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The intercom on his desk phone buzzed, and Tom Beck, the office manager, picked it up. “Mr Beck,” said his secretary Anna, “your ten o’clock interview is here.” “Ok,” said Mr Beck. “But why are you whispering?” “Well, he’s sort of an unusual candidate,” said Anna, still whispering. “Unusual in what way?” “His attire is a little odd, and he’s…he’s kind of a giant.” Mr Beck chuckled to himself. Anna was prone to exaggeration, and being a tiny woman, everyone seemed big to her. The first time he’d met her, her first words were, “My goodness, you’re huge!” At 5’10, 225lbs of pretty solid muscle, Tom certainly wasn’t small, but huge was a word he would not have applied to himself. “Go ahead and send him in, Anna.” “Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tom stood up at his desk as his office door opened. Even with Anna’s warning, he was not quite prepared for what he was seeing. The young man walking thru the doorway had to turn almost sideways to fit his vast shoulder spread into the room. Tom sized him up at a good 6’6” and at least 350lbs of muscle. He came across the room and extended his hand to shake with Tom. “Hello, Mr Beck. I’m Marcus.” As they shook, Marcus’s hand engulfed Tom’s with his beefy palm and sausage sized fingers. “Hello Marcus. Have a seat.” Marcus sat down, and made the office chair he was in look like it came from an elementary school. He was wearing a short-sleeved white dress shirt and black pants. He had a narrow black tie on, but it was loosened, and his top collar button was undone, giving his 24” neck some freedom to show. His huge arms strained the short sleeves, and his big chest strained the shirt buttons. His thighs stretched the gabardine fabric of his pants till it looked thin and shiny. His shirt pocket had a pocket protector in it. He looked like a monster nerd. Tom picked up Marcus’s resume and looked it over, giving himself some time to compose himself. He realized how Anna must feel around people so much bigger than her. It is intimidating just being in their presence. He saw that Marcus had graduated top of his class, and had been captain of his college’s weightlifting squad for all four years. “As you know,” Tom started, “we are a small marketing company representing mostly sportswear businesses and supplement companies, along with some gym franchises and weightlifting wholesalers. It helps to have a sports or fitness background when dealing with our clients. You certainly look like you keep yourself…fit.” Marcus laughed. “Does it show?” he said, then bounced his pecs under his white cotton shirt. “Geezus,” stammered Tom. “I gotta ask, Marcus, just how much do you weigh?” “385lbs this morning,” Marcus answered. Then he flexed his arms into a double biceps shot. The sleeves of his shirt got pushed back as his peaks rose up and up. As they swelled higher, both sleeves ripped. “Damn,” said Marcus. “another shirt ruined. Guess that’s what happens when your arm pass twenty-four inchs, Mr Beck. You like?” Marcus knew muscle lust when he saw it in someone’s eyes, and he was going to milk it to the max. “Holy….”said Tom. “Yep,” smirked Marcus. “ And they just keep on getting bigger. You wanna see my chest, Mr Beck?” Marcus stood up, his huge frame seeming to fill the office. “Why don’t you come over and unbutton my shirt?” Marcus undid his tie and tossed it aside. Tom knew he shouldn’t. He knew. But he stood up anyway, his heart pounding hard. He couldn’t stop himself. He was mesmerized by so much muscle mass right in front of him. He made his way around his desk. Marcus turned to face him, towering over him. “Go ahead,” said Marcus, thrusting his massive chest outward. As Tom reached up for a shirt button, his forearms grazed along the white fabric, feeling the solidness of the protruding pec slabs underneath. He undid one button, then another. The shirt had no choice but to spread open wide, and Tom could see a tattoo on the massive young man’s chest. He undid a third button, and the shirt opened up enough for Tom to see a big “ALPHA” tattoo, all in black ink, across Marcus’s upper chest. Marcus smiled as he saw Mr Beck soaking in his tat, and his swole chest. “Sixty-eight inches of chest and lats, Mr Beck.” He reached down and unbuttoned the remaining buttons, and spread his shirt open, exposing his powerful roidgut. Even though swollen and rounding out, his abs still showed through his tight skin. Marcus flexed his gut muscles and made the ridges deepen around his thick 8-pack. “Oh my god,” said Tom, as he stepped back and leaned against his desk. “Am I ‘fit’ enough?” asked Marcus. “Not too bulked for ya?” “No, no, not at all.” “Here, help me take my shirt off, I’m in the middle of my bulk, so it’s getting harder to maneuver this mass.” “Holy…” said Tom. He walked over behind the massive Marcus and reached up to his collar and started pulling it down. They both struggled to work Marcus out of his shirt, and Tom looked in awe as more and more of the massive landscape of rolling muscle was exposed on Marcus’s huge back. Finally free of his shirt, Marcus shook out his torso, and his muscle seemed to expand even more, and filling the office with the musky scent of testosterone. Tom was able to get his first look at Marcus’s backside. His huge glutes were mounded thick and high, making his dress pants tight as a drum. “God,” said Tom. He put one hand on Marcus’s big back to steady himself. “You ok, Mr Beck?” “You’re hired,” said Tom, feeling just how hard and thick the man’s back was. “What was that?” “You’re hired,” he repeated. “Yeah? Just like that? You haven’t even seen my legs yet.” And with that, Marcus turned to face Tom and began flexing his quads inside his dress pants. The fabric stretched so tightly that Tom could see the veins running up and down Marcus’s huge thighs. “Let’s talk about my salary,” Marcus said. And he flexed hard enough that front of his pant legs started to tear down the middle. “I’ll double it,” stammered Tom, staring at the pants as the swelling quad muscle pushed its way out. “That’s what I like to hear,” said Marcus. Then he shredded his pant legs with his huge muscles. Then he forced his big roidgut out, and the buckle on his dress belt snapped apart like a cheap plastic toy. He then sucked his gut into a deep vacuum pose, and his pants slid down his 37 inch quads and onto his shoes, exposing the black poser he’d been wearing underneath. He stepped out of his Italian loafers and what was left of his pants. “You’re looking a little pale, Mr B,” said Marcus. “If you think I’m big now, just wait until I’m well over 400lbs.” Then he started posing, hitting flex after flex, turning and showing Tom his back double bi, his lat spread, then turning back around and hitting side chest shot, then a most-muscular. Tom gasped at each pose, and his left eye was twitching as he watched the superheavyweight new hire swell with size. “Speaking of which,” said Marcus, continuing to flex, “I’m going to need a pretty big office…” “You can have this one,” said Tom. “That’s mighty big of ya, Mr B. You know, you look pretty jacked up yourself. I used to be as little as you, but then I graduated high school.” Marcus moved toward Tom, until his huge chest was only an inch away from, and level with, Tom’s face. “Suck my nipples, Bossman.” Tom didn’t need to be told twice. He went to work on the big nip jutting out of the huge pec. He put his hands on the bigger man’s pumpkin-sized delts, feeling the thin sheen of sweat coating the rock hard muscle. He sucked and sucked on one nipple till it was engorged. Then he moved to the other side. “Ah, yeah, you got a hot mouth, Bossman. I knew it the minute I walked in here. We’re going to make a great team.” Marcus pulled his new boss mouth off his teat, and went and picked up the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. He wedged the top of the chair underneath the doorknob of the office door. “But first, we’re going to break in my new office,” he said, stepping out of his poser and snapping it at Tom like a rubber band. It hit him in the face, and Tom held it there, breathing in the musk. He reached over and hit his intercom button. “Anna,” he said, “hold all my calls for….” He looked at Marcus. “The next two hours,” said the naked bulked superheavyweight.

Are you hinting that you'd maybe like a new chapter today?!

The phone rang again— a telemarketer. Max slammed the phone down and let out a grunt of frustration. He didn’t have the time for this and he knew it. He was a goddamn corporate manager, not some secretary with enough energy to spare to answer spam phone calls. Weren’t they supposed to filter those out anyway? Max let out a deep breath through his nose as he looked over at the framed picture on his desk. There he was, in his cap and gown, graduation from university. He still had a bright smile then, so full of hope, still optimistic. His smooth brown hair was all tousled from wearing that dumb graduation cap, yet it still looked like it was meant that way, like it was going with the flow. His entire personality fit it well. Back in his college days, Max was known to be a chill guy. He did whatever he liked and usually got it when he asked, his striking eyes and toned body were impossible to ignore. But times have changed. Things are different. What was once a six pack was now a beer belly. Beautifully styled hair was neglected in a greasy mess. He had money, sure, but he wanted his vitality back. He wanted to be powerful. The job wasn’t too bad. He had power, sure, but it wasn’t the same. Power to tell people what to do had its limits. It had its laws. But human strength, that was something he craved. Nobody could control his own body. Max stood up and stretched, pulling his arms over his head and twisting his back. “Nobody could control his body” was right. He could decide when to move or what to do; so he took a walk around the office with a stack of papers in his hands. They weren’t actual important papers, mind you, but they allowed him to move without question. Nobody asked what you were doing when you had a stack of papers in your hands. Max opened the office door and picked up his random stack on the desk parallel to his glass office wall. “Hey, Max!” Phoebe interrupted from a cubicle nearby. Although neither of them could see each other, she knew the sound of his door opening and she took her chance at his attention. “Can I get some help with this invoice? There’s some inconsistencies and—“ Max interrupted. “Sorry Phoebe I’m busy right now. Ask someone around you.” He abruptly turned to the right and strolled along the gray corridors, glancing at the posters framed on the bland walls. “Big Action Protein Powder!” “Mega Large Testosterone Booster for Men!!” ”Giant XXX Hormone Set Extreme!!!” over and over masculinity was shoved in his face. Overseeing a “men’s fitness” company was cool at first, but he was no longer 21. He was what the gay men called “daddy,” which both stung and aroused him. Unfortunately, he had been so busy with work that no men had been calling him at all for months. “Maxie! Come over here, will ya?” a voice called, this one not immediately recognizable. It was a male voice, but lower pitched than he was used to. Maybe it was a new intern. Hopefully not, however, because someone new shouldn’t be calling him nicknames already. But before Max could object, he continued. “It’s the research department! They’re having major issues.” the research department. That explained it. He nearly never had business there since it wasn’t in his jurisdiction really. He only worked on the sales floor. Nevertheless, his walk would have to wait, so he set the stack of assorted papers down on the floor and went into the elevator where the voice came from. Luckily, it wasn’t far away and the papers were out of foot traffic, so he’d be okay leaving them behind. When Max emerged from the office hideaway and through the metallic elevator doors, he nearly knocked over a poor scrawny man half his height. He must have been a little under five feet tall, and he probably weighed as much as Max’s beefy arms. His face, however, was still round and childish, defying the thinness of the rest of his body. When Max looked down, all he could really see was his cheeks and his wiry gray hair that fell past his forehead. He must have been one of those young people who were into looking like grandparents. Gray was not his color. “I’m sorry about that,” Max apologized. “What’s the problem?” the man didn’t look up but took a step back to give him more room. Then, still not responding, he leaned across the floor and pressed the bottom button on the elevator, sending it down. “You see,” he began. “Marcy had some troubles with a new supplement because the male subjects got ill at the same time and the women refuse to test it.” Max nodded along, but secretly, he had no idea who Marcy was. “Furthermore, I’ll allergic to one of the components. It’s supposed to help your...” he paused, glancing up only briefly. “Your male parts.” Max had to hold in a laugh. They worked at a male enhancing company and this man refused to say penis. “I understand sir. What do you need me for then?” ”Well,” he said. “We just need a quick trial test and then it’ll be over...” ”Fuck no. I’m not insured for this stuff! I’m not going to be stupid and agree to take whatever it is!” the man tried to stutter his way to goading him, but Max refused. When the elevator doors opened, he closed them and pressed the button to go back to sales. What he didn’t do, however, is look down at the man slipping a small piece of tape onto his black work pants. The man scuttled away into research and Max went back upstairs, picking up his papers, and finishing his walk with relative ease. He set the stack back on his desk and walked inside his office, turning the blinds so he can get some privacy, and opening up his computer. Emails. Spam. Bills. It was all the same. He looked at the clock. 5:13. Almost 45 minutes until he could leave. He shifted in his cushy black office chair and rearranged his legs. “Fuck I need to get that AC fixed,” Max complained. It was getting hotter. He shifted again in his seat and tried to get comfortable. For some reason, his balls kept on getting in the way. No matter which way he moved, they blocked him from comfort. After minutes of trying, he stood up, rearranged himself, and tried to sit back down. His chair was a gift from his ex boyfriend. It was about four feet tall, rolled well, and was always comfortable when he laid his arms on the armrests. The same armrests which refused to let his ass slip through all of a sudden. Max grunted and tried to squeeze in, but the harder he pushed, the tighter it got. He was just in it a second ago! How could it be? He started to sweat, small pools forming at his armpits, spreading along the white button up shirt like someone left a hose on. He took off his navy suit jacket and set it on his wooden desk while he tried to cool down, but it was still too hot. Taking off his black tie didn’t help either. Neither did unbuttoning his top button. Max kept shoving himself into that seat over and over again until he heard a loud rip. Slowly, he stood back up and grazed his hand across the back, anticipating the worst. To his dismay, there it was, a giant rip in the back of his pants, exposing the bright blue Lycra underwear he had on. “It’s okay,” he repeated to himself. Over and over he whispered this as he reached for his suit jacket to tie around his waist. But as he grabbed it, he heard another rip coming from his shoulder. Then when he stood up, his shirt untucked itself from underneath his pants and his belt. Max looked around helplessly, trying to figure out what was going on. Research department. It had to be. His body started warming up even more, but he couldn’t leave before he fixed his wardrobe. There was no way he’d let himself be seen with a ripped shirt AND ripped pants. A jacket couldn’t cover it all. So, with no other options, he looked around for a blanket or sheet he could use. Rummaging around a tiny office didn’t help much because he knew where everything was. There was no blanket. No sheet. Just stupid papers and knickknacks he stashed away. If he had the time, he would have looked at them a bit longer, but he was in a hurry. It was getting hotter. Max stripped off his shoes and socks and threw them against the wall with a loud bang as he resumed scrambling for anything to hide himself until he stopped growing. “Max? You okay dear? We heard a thumpy sound.” fuck. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this. “Y-Yeah! Dropped my stapler. Thank you for checking. I’m alright!” he heard footsteps dissipate into nothingness, and he let out a sigh of relief. He had more time. Or so he thought. Suddenly, without any warning, one thought , and one thought only, entered his mind— sex. It was orgasmic. His pants became tighter and tighter as he felt his bulge start to balloon, his cock pushing against the fabric as it got harder and harder. Then, with a burst of size, another rip, this time from the front. He let his gargantuan cock hang loose in his Lycra briefs, the sensation of cool finally taking over the exasperating heat. His bulge had to be the size of a basketball now, way too big for anything natural. He was a freak, but God, his dick commanded him to love every second of it. It was like the feeling of masterbation multiplying over every inch as his cock grew larger and larger. He stumbled backwards in joy, but his giant ass cushioned his fall. He had no clue how his briefs stayed on for so long. He had a basketball in front and beach balls in the back. But that wasn’t the only thing growing. His legs started to press against each other, growing so wide that they had nowhere else to grow. Of course, this turn of events led pants to be obsolete. His legs were past XXXL now, bigger than he’s ever seen on a bodybuilder. With awe, he rubbed his hands against them and felt the sheer hardness of his body. It was unbelievable. If he wasn’t so fucking horny he would have been upset at his size. But as he grew larger, so did his appetite for more. His chest puffed outwards, slowly at first, but gaining in speed as time passed. It was hardly noticeable at first over the feelings of his lower body, but as his second most top button flew across the room and his the glass, he couldn’t help but see. Max took his big hands and squeezed his pecs, ogling how they looked like the men he advertised on poster. But they didn’t stop there. Eventually they became like the WOMEN he saw on advertisements. And then even more as his chest popped another button down the line. And suddenly, another. Then one more. Another. Another again. Over and over until his pecs covered his vision. Max let out a mighty roar as he flexed his biceps, tearing out of the cotton shirt like it was paper. His arms bulged and swelled with power as they peaked above his head and kept rising towards the ceiling at an alarming rate. They grew in every direction, his arms expanding both up and down with muscle until he could hardly move them anymore. More and more he gained, until the floor started to bend. Someone outside of his office screamed “earthquake!” And everyone yelled and ran. But not Max. Max stayed put. That is, until the floor caved in and he crashed down, his giant ass once again cushioning his fall. His briefs were long gone now. Max was a being of pure mass, tons of concentrated muscle in one spot. The building couldn’t handle it. As he inches bigger and bigger, he fell down another floor. Then another. His cock couldn’t handle the sensations. He kept it growing. What was once a rather pitiful 4 inches became 4 feet. Then 8. 10. 20. 50. 100. 1000. It stretched across the building and onto the one next to it. Fuck he would have felt awful. Max would have been traumatized. But he couldn’t. All he felt was lust as he outgrew his very office building. Over ten stories high, international news reports told of the Monster of California, wreaking havoc over the west coast. Which, luckily for Max, he outgrew in a few minutes. His cock stretched across the Midwest. His balls sunk into the Pacific Ocean. His biceps scraped the ozone layer. And God, was Max happy. “More!” Was all he could chant. And that’s what he got. Never ending, never slowing. Each time he demanded it, he got it. But hey, it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t insured for this type of thing

Well, you know - this night in Bristol is still young. Anything could happen.

C’mon Woody, just kiss him already for fucks sake!!! We can’t take much more of this!!!

“Professor Hutchens, something's wrong. I don’t think it's supposed to be bubbling like this,” says my assistant Josh, a heightened concern in his voice. "Ignore it and just follow the directions. I've been working on this particular formula for months and checked the calculations this morning. Don't forget, I've been doing this for over a decade," I say in a huff. I am too busy grading my students' papers to walk over to the other side of the lab and check on his work. I had been up all night perfecting this latest batch, and had done my due diligence in double-checking the formula this morning. So what if I got zero sleep last night. I had to make my deadline. Associate professor positions pay shit money and I have to pay the rent somehow. So here I am covertly using university time and lab equipment to perfect a serum for a private biomedical company who has contracted me for a secret project. It's a project I can't truly talk about — you wouldn't believe the number of NDAs I had to sign to get the contract — but at its essence, it's a formula that will boost human potential by unlocking the confines of human strength and capability. "Alright, professor. Whatever you say. I'm just saying. It looks funny," Josh replies. Ah, Josh. Ever the simpleton. But that's why I hired him. He can follow orders well enough and better yet, has no idea that what I'm doing is illegal. He just needs the money as bad as I do. He's handsome in a boy next door kind of way — square jaw, a smattering of freckles, and sweeping brown bangs that highlight his soft green eyes. Oh, and a body that's in pretty good shape for a 20-year-old who cares more about partying than pretty much anything else. An inch or two shorter than me at 5'10", I would guess he weighs around 180 lbs. Despite the unshapely lab coat, I can tell that his muscles are developed. Actually I know this for a fact since I creeped on his Instagram late one night and saw that shirtless pic of him at the frat party. He doesn't have washboard abs, but they're peaking under a thin layer of fat and good lord does he have a bubble butt to die for. Round and juicy. Geez, I'm getting distracted. At the end of the day, he gets me what I need: someone who will take orders and ask as few questions as possible. **glass shatters** "Professor, professor!" Josh yells. I look up and a crimson colored plume of smoke is quickly enveloping Josh's work station. I run over to survey the situation, stopping to grab a fire extinguisher in case of an open flame. Josh continues to shout as I arrive at his desk. To my surprise, there is no flame, just a broken beaker. The plume of smoke has dissipated. "Josh, are you alright?" I ask. Internally I'm freaking out. Where did the smoke go? How much of it did he inhale? If something serious happens to him as a result and the university finds out... My racing thoughts are cut off by a groan from Josh. "I don't feel so good," he exclaims. With another groan he reaches out and grabs the lab counter, slightly bent over. He looks queasy. "Maybe take a seat over..." I start to say before I am interrupted by an even louder moan. "Ohh... ughhhhh, ohhh..." he groans. And that's when I noticed that Josh was sweating through his clothes. This isn't good. "Fuck, it's hot. My skin is burning." Josh exclaims, clutching his stomach. "Water, I need water." I run over to the sink and fill a sterile beaker with water from the tap, but notice that Josh's breathing has slowed and that the moans have ceased. "Hey Josh, how are you feeling?" I say with concern in my voice. "Okay now. My skin is still a little warm but it's not so hot anymore. Just a little tingly." he says. "Okay, well let's drink this glass of water and maybe get you out of that soaked lab coat." I reply. "I'm feeling really tingly now, Professor Hutchens," he says, straightening up. I start to help him get out of his lab coat and that's when I notice that we're eye-to-eye. "How tall are you, Josh?" I ask. "Five foot ten, why do you ask?" he replies as he wipes the sweat from his brow. "No reason." I reply. If I'm just over six foot, there's no way... "Fuck," he exclaims. "I need to get out of this lab coat, it's feeling really tight." **rip** The back of Josh's jacket suddenly rips along his lats. I can see his sun-kissed skin poking through the stark white of the coat. "We need to get my pants off too, fuck they're tight." **rip** Josh blows out the back of his pants. Holy shit, I think. His ass is impossibly round and firm. What I would give to... Josh cuts me off. "Ugh. What the hell is happening to me, professor? Why are my clothes so goddamn tight?" Josh asks, anger rising in his voice. It's then that I notice Josh is clearly looking down on me. He notices it too. "Holy shit, I'm growing," he says in surprise. "Ugh, it must be a reaction with the compound you were working with, I'm sure there's no cause for worry." But I'm worried the fuck out. This was an untested batch of the formula. "I'm definitely getting bigger," he says surveying his growing body. Just then, Josh's shoes make a popping noise and start to rip at the toe. First his right foot, thick toes peek through as they lengthen. Then his left. Previously a sensible size 11, he was now clearly pushing size 15, maybe 16. Bigger and more powerful, each toe grows menacingly large. Josh takes a look at his hands, and they slowly lengthen and thicken before his eyes. It's then he notices that his lab coat is now straining helplessly across his broad chest. With one fell swoop, he grabs it and rips it to shreds. He groans. Tossing aside the sweaty, ripped remains, Josh's upper body is now on full display. Thick, dark, quarter sized nipples increasingly point downward as his pecs heave forward. Rounder and firmer they grow, hovering over his abs. Whereas only a faint outline could be seen before, the top two rows of abs jut out as fat melts away. Sex lines begin to appear above the waist of his now impossibly tight jeans. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm going to be in so much trouble. But then again, the formula clearly works. Better than I imagined it to. Also I'm hard as hell. Josh was quickly pushing 6'4" and there was no sign of the growth stopping. "FUCK, this is amazing. I'm going to be huge!!" Josh yells, his voice now deeper and filled with cocky confidence. He rubs his thick, meaty hands across his broad chest. Tweaking his nipples, a guttural moan escapes his lips. Grabbing the top of his jeans, he rips them open, buttons flying. Holy shit, he's strong. Pre-cum soaks through my pants. I take in Josh's bottom half and notice that round veiny calves anchor his now inhumanely thick legs. Meaty thighs quiver and thicken as Josh's white, sweat-soaked briefs strain against growing frame. It leaves nothing to the imagination — Josh is packing. Half-hard, his cock already appears to be ten inches and thick. I can't imagine how huge it is at full mast. Actually, I can and the stain of pre-cum on my pants grows larger. He grasps his dick through his underwear. Goddamn, that's so hot. Josh turns around to take a look at himself in the mirror and I get a glimpse of his back. Wider and wider his lats spread, as pound upon pound of muscle is added to his frame. His traps, growing thicker by the minute, give him an imposing air. Triceps flaring, I'm starting to get scared. Josh is quickly turning into a god among men, and a cocky one at that. "How fucking big am I going to get, doc?" he barks at me, cupping his growing pecs as he admires his own reflection. "I want to know. How fucking big?!" "I... I don't know. This formula has never been tested before. This is... more than I could have ever imagined." I stammer. "I hope it doesn't stop. I want to grow huge," he grunts as he gains another inch in height. He turns back around. Josh's underwear is hopelessly clinging on for dear life. Escaping the confines of the strained cotton briefs and snaking halfway down his thigh, a giant cockhead the size of a small apple stares at me. Fabric taut, his briefs are looking more and more like a thong by the minute, riding up an impossibly round and juicy bubble butt. **snap** Josh's underwear gives way under the pressure of his growing muscle ass. At this point, he's rock hard and stroking his cock with his meaty hands. I'm mesmerized. Never in my wildest dreams could I picture something so insanely thick and long, coursing with raw masculinity. Two large balls the size of lemons, quiver with young stud cum. The naked jock stares down at me, a hunger in his eyes I've never seen before. He had to be 6'8" by now. "Suck my cock," the giant demands. "What... do you... mea..." I studder. "I said suck my cock. I can see that my body is turning you on. And I'm horny as hell. Suck my fucking cock." he growls. I don't know what to do. On one hand, I've never been hornier in my life. On the other, Josh's cockhead alone is big enough to fill my mouth to capacity. I don't think it's even possible to take the whole... Josh grabs my head and shoves me to his crotch. Sweaty, I'm enveloped by his manly musk. "I said, fucking suck it!" he commands. I lick the head. His pre, salty and thick, is unlike anything I've ever tasted before. I open my mouth wide as Josh's places his baseball mitt sized hand on the back of my head and shoves me onto his growing member. I can only get my mouth around four or five inches of the shaft, it's much thicker than a soda can. "Yeah, you little bitch." Josh moans. "You turned me into a god, and now you'll worship me like one." I can't believe this is happening but I'm lost in the moment. He's right: my formula has turned him into a studly beast. Even though I can tell the growth is slowly, he must be pushing 7' tall at this point. And god, the muscles. They're unreal. Josh's cock surges in my mouth. Not done growing, I guess. I work his tool as best as I can. Tears stream down my cheek as I strain to take it in. I grab his round muscle butt for leverage and realize I can't hold on any longer. I blow my load in my pants. Josh's groans from the growth slow, and are replaced with increased moans as I service his cock. I lick and suck and spit, working the 16" rod with all my strength. "Ugh, I'm gonna shoot!" Josh roars unexpectedly. **pump** **pump** **pump** Rope after rope of thick, virile stud cum shoots down my throat. **pump** **pump** **pump** His dick quivers with each pump. Holy shit, this is a lot of cum. **pump** **pump** **pump** Josh continues to moan like an animal in heat. I struggle to take it all in and cum starts escaping from the corners of my mouth and drips onto my clothes. I shoot another load in my pants. **pump** **pump** The seemingly endless stream of cum slows. Josh's breathing, while labored, calms down a bit. Two more pumps and he's done. My mouth full, I swallow the last of his load. I've never sucked down so much cum in my life. "FUCK," he exclaims, pulling out his cock and leaning his huge frame on one of the tables. The growth has stopped. "I'm starving," he says as he grabs his torn lab coat and ties it around his waist, a futile attempt at modesty given his hulking frame. "I'm going to find some food." And with that, he walks away from me and heads to the lab's exit, ducking through the doorway. I'm at a loss for words, unable to make sense of what just happened. A dull, but noticeable tingle spreads across my body and I notice I'm soaking through my own lab coat. I'm covered in Josh's cum, yes, but also soaking with sweat. I should probably get out of these clothes, I'm feeling restricted because they feel... tight against my frame. God, it's hot in here. My skin's on fire. *RRIIPPP*

At this rate one of us might barge in to the pub and make a pass at Luke - or Woody! Anyhow - it’s all such good stuff so far!

Ha!

Hahaha, too real! I typically work 50-60 hours a week, so writing can be a bit slow. But Part 2 is coming along real nice! A lot more growth. A little more measuring. Some freaky side effects. Should be good!

Nineteen The first thing I see when I wake up the next day is Luke’s face resting on the pillow next to mine. We went to sleep with our backs to each other and we’ve woken up in this position. Luke’s still asleep, his eyes closed. This warmth washes through my body as I lie next to him and take in his face. His little nose. His cheeks. His hair which looks fluffy and messy like it always does in the mornings. It hits me in that moment. That everything feels better when I’m with Luke. The world feels like a nicer place somehow. It’s crazy how someone who takes up so little space in the world can have such a huge impact on what I think and how I feel. Luke stirs and I feel a sharp panic and quickly shut my eyes. And now I’m just lying here with my eyes closed, my heart beating faster, wondering if Luke’s awake and if he’s now watching me sleep the way I was just watching him. What if I were to just suddenly open my eyes without warning? Would I catch him looking at me? I’m so tempted. But I couldn’t do that to him. So I stir a little and then gently open my eyes and oh my God, I catch him. His eyes immediately veer away, but there’s no question about it - Luke was watching me sleep. “Morning!” I say to him, my heart feeling like it wants to escape from my chest. He looks back at me and his mouth curls into this happy grin. “Hey!” And now I’m smiling back. And his smile gets wider and giddier and we’re looking at each other and smiling and oh my fucking God! What would Luke do if I leaned in and kissed him? I know he’d be shocked. But would he kiss me back? Would he just lie there with his head on the pillow kissing me? His nose rubbing against mine? Would he tell me how much he’s been dying to kiss me? That he’s wanted to do it since the day we met? That he wasn’t sure if I liked him back? That he never thought a bodybuilder like me would be interested in a guy like him - just like he said on the night we went to Glasgow? And what would happen after that? Everything would change for sure. I know that much. “Happy Birthday, Woody!” he says, still smiling. “Or is it Seb?” he teases. “Just as long as you don’t call me Sebastian!” He looks like he’s about to say something in response but stays silent. Like he’s thought better of it. There’s a knock on the door and my heart suddenly drops. Because I kind of just wanna stay here lying next to Luke for a bit. When Emily pops her head round the door I feel immediately guilty for feeling disappointed. “Are you guys decent?” “Mmmm!” She walks in and comes over to the bed. “Happy Birthday, Seb!” she says, kissing me on the cheek and sitting down. Then she hands me a card and my present; a gift experience for an indoor skydiving lesson for two. Emily always gets me awesome presents. “No obligations to take me!” she says, giving me this look and glancing her eyes to Luke. What the fuck? Did that just happen? I have no idea what to do or what to say. I know it was meant with good intentions, but I can’t seem to bring myself to look at Luke right now. “Did you sleep okay, Luke?” Emily asks. Luke nods and says, “Mmmm!” “Right, get showered,” she orders, “I’m taking you both out for breakfast!” “Sounds good. Oh and Luke’s got just the outfit!” I tease, referring to the shiny pink posers hiding in his holdall right at this very moment. I look at him and he’s rolling his eyes, but smirking too. Emily looks at the two of us, smiles and bites her lip. My stomach immediately somersaults in response. I know at some point she’s going to ask me about me and Luke again. What are the chances I can somehow manage to avoid being left alone with her for the entire day? Half an hour later and I’m showered and dressed and sitting on Emily’s bed. Luke’s getting changed when my phone beeps. “Text from my dad!” I tell Luke, looking at my phone. He smiles as he puts on his Dom and Cole In The Land of Ug t-shirt. I read from my screen. “Happy Birthday, champ. Present waiting for you when you come back home. Hope you have something fun planned with your mates!” I roll my eyes. My dad knows nothing about my “mates”. He’s never asked me one single question about the other lads at Montgomery. Including my roommate. I carry on reading. “HA! Feel feel to use my Uber account!” I look at Luke and he’s grinning. “Oooh I wonder what your present is?” I shug, pull a “don’t care” face and throw my phone on the bed. “Maybe he’s got you a Bentley!” Luke teases. “Nah. I got one of those for my 18th!” Luke smirks. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not!” I just shrug and smile at him, trying not to give anything away. Luke’s expression changes as he bends down and starts rummaging through his holdall. I can’t help noticing that he even looks a little nervous. I don’t know why but I feel a sudden pinch of nerves. “Are you getting your pink posers out to put on over your jeans?” Luke smirks and shakes his head. When he stands up, he’s clutching something in his hand. A present wrapped up. Fuck! My stomach clenches as he nervously comes towards me, an awkward and slightly embarrassed look on his cute little face. “It’s not a Bentley! Sorry!” he jokes as he hands me the parcel. It’s soft and square shaped. My heart swells as I look down at it. I have no idea what to say. I’m fucking gobsmacked. I never once thought that Luke might buy me a birthday present. “You didn’t have to get me anything!” I say. Luke pulls a face and awkwardly shrugs. I can tell he’s really nervous. Which is so fucking adorable. I feel a rush of excitement as I rip into the package and Luke sits down next to me on the bed. It’s something blue. It looks like a t-shirt. I flip it round and hold it up to see what’s on the front of it. “Oh my God!” I look at Luke sitting next to me. He’s biting his lip and smiling. He looks all pleased with himself. And he should be. Because he’s only bought me a Johnny fucking Bravo t-shirt! “This is so cool!” I say, laughing. “There’s another one in there too!” Luke says, signalling to the wrapping paper on my lap. He suddenly looks a little nervous again, but excited too. I put the t-shirt aside and see the second present hiding in the paper. I pull it out and I can’t fucking believe what I’m looking it. “Harry Potter boxer shorts!” I exclaim as I lift them up. They’re similar to Luke’s, but they’re bright red. “Gryffindor ones too!” he says, beaming at me. “Can you imagine if I wore these to Posing Practice on Monday?” Luke shrugs. “What would be wrong with that?” I laugh. “When did you get these?” “I ordered them online. They came the other day!” I can’t believe Luke bought me these presents. I love them so fucking much. “No pressure to wear them! They’re just, you know … more joke presents than anything!” But it doesn’t feel like a joke. It feels like an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gesture. “Are you crazy? I am definitely wearing this!” I say, clutching the t-shirt. “In fact …” I stand up from the bed and take off the t-shirt I’m wearing. Luke looks excited. He’s also got that slight look of awe and intimidation on his face he always does whenever I’m topless and near him. God I love that expression. I put my new, navy blue Johnny Bravo t-shirt on it’s in place. It’s a little tight but it still looks fucking awesome. I can totally pull it off. It doesn’t matter anyway, because Luke bought me this t-shirt. And that makes it perfect. “I’ll wear the boxers tomorrow!” I tell him. He’s just looking at me with this giddy grin on his face. “Actually ...” I hand Luke my phone. “Take a picture!” I pose in the same way Johnny is in the graphic on the t-shirt, flexing a front double bicep and pulling a stupid face as Luke takes a picture. I expect him to be rolling his eyes at me when I stop posing, but he’s not. He’s just got this happy grin on his face. I tap away on my phone and upload the picture to Instagram with a caption. Love my new Johnny Bravo t-shirt. Check the pecs! BEST Birthday pressie ever! #muscleuniversity #lookatthoseguns #checkthepecs #woodybravo #mani’mpretty My stomach clenches as I hand my phone to Luke to show him the post. I’m suddenly wondering if the caption was too much. But his mouth just curls into this sheepish (and fucking adorable) little grin as he reads it. As we make our way out of Emily’s bedroom, I feel a surge of bravery. “Now we just need to get a picture of you in your new trunks for your Instagram!” I suggest. I turn my head to look at Luke’s expression. He’s shaking his head and smirking. Although I’m clearly joking about the Instagram thing, I’m now wondering what the chances of Luke trying on his new pink posers for me are. I mean, he tried on his blue ones for me, so why not these? But will I be able to hide what I’m thinking this time as I sit there looking at Luke’s insanely cute arse spilling out of his brand new shiny pink posers? I feel like it could happen though. That I could persuade Luke to try them on. I just need to find the right moment. Maybe tonight when we’ve come back home from our night out. Both a little drunk. Me brave enough to ask him. Luke brave enough to actually do it. And who knows what might happen then. Luke standing in front of me in Emily’s bedroom wearing nothing but his shiny pink trunks. The atmosphere changing like it did that day in our dorm room when he took a picture of me flexing topless after the gym. Who knows what I might say. What the fuck I might just do. Emily squints, looking at my chest as we approach her downstairs. “New t-shirt?” I nod. “Present from Luke!” I say proudly. She smirks, that look on her face again like she knows something’s going on between us and my stomach twists. “Very cool!” she says, nodding. “You used to love that show when we were kids!” “Oh and he bought some Harry Potter boxer shorts!” Her eyes widen in surprise. “Since when did you like Harry Potter?” I shrug. “Luke’s converted me. I bet you didn’t know that I’m a Gryffindor!” Emily turns to Luke. “Are you turning my best friend into a geek?” Luke looks from me to her with a cute grin on his face. “Hmmm. Go ahead,” Emily says, “any change would be an improvement!” Later on that evening, the three of us are sitting on Emily’s bed drinking vodka and coke and getting ready to go out. Me and Emily have been telling Luke about how we both came out to each other at school. I don’t know if it’s because of last night or this morning, but somehow Luke’s looking even nicer than usual today in his Dom and Cole t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. “Woody was actually the first person I ever kissed!” Emily tells him. “Wait - so kissing Woody turned you into a lesbian?” I laugh. “Hardly!” I reply. I look at Emily and she gives me a knowing smirk. “Emily went through a phase where she thought she was in love with me!” I explain. “It’s true!” Emily confesses to a surprised looking Luke. “I was a very confused teenager! It was only for a brief period though,” she explains. “It stopped when I watched The L Word for the first time and fell in love with the girl who plays Shane instead!” I shake my head. “Sorry. We have no idea what you just said. We don’t speak Lesbianese.” “Oh, I told my friend, Max, he could come out with us tonight,” Emily says, looking at her phone. “Is that okay?” “Which one’s Max?” “He came out with us on New Years!” “Oh - the cute ginger guy?” I ask, suddenly remembering who Max is. Emily smiles and nods. And then I look at Luke and he’s got this weird look on his face. Like something’s bothered him. Wait - is that because I described Emily’s friend as cute? Fuck. My chest swells at the thought. “So what would you guys be doing right now if you were back at uni?” Emily asks me as she pours me another drink and hands it to me. I look at Luke and he gives me a knowing smirk. “Well … we’d either be watching Johnny Bravo, that weird Dom and Cole shit or … a Harry Potter film!” I explain. Emily pulls a face. “Wow! You guys know how to go crazy!” “It’s not our fault the campus is the middle of nowhere!” “We did go to Glasgow last week!” Luke tells Emily. He says a little too eagerly, which is really fucking cute. “Woody had a few admirers in the gay bar we went to. Especially that drag queen on the door!” I pull a face and shrug. “What can I say?” Emily smirks and rolls her eyes. “That’s nothing new. Every time we go out here someone asks if they can feel his biceps!” I breathe a deep sigh. “The price of being a huge, sexy bastard!” “I take it he wasn’t always this cocky?” Luke asks Emily. She shakes her head. “It started after he competed in his first bodybuilding show!” I pull a face. “Did it? Hmmm. Can’t remember. Anyway, I don’t think of myself as cocky. I think of myself as … a realist!” Luke and Emily give each other unimpressed looks. “I’m hot! Facts are facts! I mean, look at these bad boys!” I say, looking down and bouncing my pecs. Maybe it’s because Luke’s sitting next to me, but I’m feeling extra mischievous. “Not to mention my arse!” I get on my knees, turn around, pull my t-shirt up and stick out my bum. “I mean, come on - that is one hot ass!” I say, giving it a wiggle. Luke’s rolling his eyes and shaking head but he’s smiling like crazy. “Sorry! Not doing anything for me, I’m afraid!” Emily says. I sit back down next to Luke, feeling a rush at knowing he approved of my display of playful cockiness. “Max says is it okay if he brings a mate along tonight?” Emily says, reading off her phone screen. I shrug. “Fine by me! More admirers to feel my biceps!” Emily rolls her eyes and pours another vodka and coke. “We probably should get a move on,” she says, handing me the glass. “Do you guys need to change before we go out?” Luke says yes. I look down at the blue Johnny Bravo t-shirt he gifted me this morning. I think it’s possibly my favourite t-shirt I’ve ever owned. “Mmmm. Dunno if I can be arsed to change!” I reply. But I’m not really keeping my birthday present from Luke on out of laziness. I just don’t really want to take it off. I look down at my chest. “What do you think, boys? Shall I keep my Johnny Bravo t-shirt on? Bounce twice for yes, once for no!” Then I bounce my pecs twice. I look up at Luke, who’s beaming and biting his lip. Dimples out in full force. “The pecs have spoken!” One Chinese restaurant later and the three of us are walking into a darkly lit gay pub. It’s unpretentious with a slightly older crowd with very few girls. Heads are turning. Even more so when I take my bomber jacket off. There’s a group of three guys not far away from us and all of them are literally just staring. Luke and Emily are exchanging knowing smirks. As usual, I’m fucking loving it. “Don’t you ever get bored of people staring?” Emily asks as we sit down at a table in one corner of the pub. “Nope! Anyway, this is a rarity. I get zero attention back at Montgomery. Trust me!” “That’s not strictly true!” Luke says, with one eyebrow raised. I smirk and look at him confused. “Deano and Shaun have been giving you plenty of attention lately!” “Ugh!” I say, taking a swig of my drink. “Deano and Shaun are these two absolute fucking knobs!” I tell Emily. “They’ve been giving me a hard time because I … may have made a couple of flirty comments with some gay guy on Instagram!” Emily screws her face up. “And?” “Exactly!” I say to her. “Honestly, it’s like being back at school sometimes!” “You two can’t be the only gay guys at your uni!” I look at Luke and he gives me a little grin. “I really wouldn’t be surprised if we were!” I reply. “You should start an LGBTQ+ society!” Emily suggests. I laugh. “I think Montgomery might be missing a few of those letters! Like everything but the G. Although there could be a few closeted B’s there I suppose!” “Okay … a GB society then!” Emily says, grinning. “That would just be me and Luke hanging out and going to the SU bar. Which is basically what we do anyway!” A little later on and I’m re-joining the table after having used the toilets. Luke and Emily have both got suspicious smirks on their faces. Like they’ve been talking about me. “What?” I ask the both of them, feeling a flutter of excitement. Luke shrugs as if to say nothing but they carry on smirking at me. “So, er … you never told me what colour your Bentley was!” Luke says. I shrug. “Which one?” Emily smirks and rolls her eyes. “He can’t even drive!” Luke looks surprised and smiles. “Really?” I shrug. “What’s the point? I can just use my dad’s Uber account!” I turn to Emily. “Luke thinks I’m some super spoilt rich kid!” She pulls a face. “Well …” she teases. I feel a tug in my stomach. “I’m not spoilt!” I protest. Emily pulls another face. What the fuck? “I know!” Luke says, “don’t tell me - you had a job back home and everything!” Emily looks confused. “What job?!” My stomach clenches. “At the restaurant!” I say, defensively. “You quit after two weeks ‘cause you didn’t like being told what to do!” What the fuck? Okay now I’m pissed off. “Erm, actually I quit because I was prepping for a bodybuilding show and didn’t want any distractions!” Emily looks at Luke, and suddenly there’s this tension. She clearly knows she’s pushed me too far. Luke suddenly looks a little awkward. “Okay!” Emily says, with her hands up, trying to lighten the mood. But it doesn’t work. And now I’m in a bad mood. They start talking about something else, and I offer to get the next round in, not making eye contact with either of them as I go to the bar. I know what Emily’s saying about me. She’s probably telling Luke that I’ve got the hump and that I’ll snap out of it. When I get back to the table Luke’s excused himself to the bathroom. I’m still pissed off. “What’s up with you?” Emily asks. I shrug and take a sip of my drink. Then I make eye contact with her and she’s giving me this look like I’m being stupid. “Seb! Come on!” I feel myself softening. “I just … don’t like people thinking I’m this spoilt rich kid!” I sigh. “But Seb - you were the one who used those words. Not us!” “I know, but … people get weird when they find out my parents are well off. And …” I pause and shrug, “I just don’t want Luke to have that impression of me!” “Seb, I don’t think he cares!” “But why did you have to say that about me quitting my job?” She looks a little guilty. “I was just winding you up. Sorry!” She gives me a warm smile and I cave, roll my eyes and smile back at her. I look in the direction of the mens toilets to check Luke’s not coming back. “I just keep ...” then I shake my head, “doesn’t matter!” “What?” Emily asks. My stomach clenches. I know I’m veering into dangerous territory talking about Luke. “Tell me!” she gently orders. I shrug and say it like it’s not a big deal. “I just keep thinking Luke’s gonna suddenly come to his senses!” She looks at me with a confused expression but I can see her mouth starting to curl. “What do you mean?” Oh God. This is definitely dangerous territory. What am I doing? I’ve been dreading talking to Emily about Luke. About revealing my feelings for him. But at this very moment, ironically, I actually think I want to talk about it. I sigh and shrug. “Like he’s suddenly gonna wake up and realise that … I dunno, I’m a twat!” I confess, rolling my eyes. She shakes her head at me like I’m being stupid, now giving me this knowing, ominous smirk. As if she can read me like a book. Like she knows the real reason I’m so worried about what Luke thinks. Because of course she bloody does. “I never thought I’d see the day!” Oh God. My stomach twists. “What?!” I ask, pleading ignorant, though I really don’t know why I’m bothering. “You know what!” she says gently, still smiling. “You’ve got feelings for him haven’t you?” It’s totally unexpected but I suddenly feel my eyes water. I cover my face with both hands and let out a dramatic little groan. It’s like I don’t want her to see my face. Like I’m scared she’ll see my vulnerability. “You actually like someone!” she says, grabbing my wrist and giving it a little squeeze. I cautiously take my hands away and she’s giving me this warm, happy smile. I let her carry on gripping my wrist. And now I’m feeling something else. Something I definitely hadn’t expected to feel. This wave of relief. That someone actually knows. That I can actually talk about what’s been constantly on my mind for weeks. I let out a sigh. “I can’t stop thinking about him!” I confess, shaking my head. “Is that ... normal?” Emily’s smile gets bigger. “Yes!” “I go to bed and I’m thinking about him. I wake up and the first thing I wonder is whether he’s still asleep!” I don’t know what’s gotten into me. But I can’t seem to stop myself from talking. “I’m in class and I’m wondering whether he’s gonna be sitting in the room when I get back. I keep thinking of excuses to sit with him on his bed. The other day he wasn’t home and I actually did sit on his bed! I didn’t know what I was doing! I was just sat there. I knew it was wrong. But it felt … I dunno, nice, just sitting on his fucking bed!” I don’t tell Emily that on that particular occasion, I also picked up one of his pillows and buried my face in it because I knew it would smell like him. I don’t tell her that I keep wearing the Muscle University hoodie I leant him because I can smell his aftershave on it. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” I ask her, shaking my head. She bites her lip, continuing to give me that warm, happy grin. “There’s this part of me that kinda hates it though!” I confess. “Is that normal?” Emily pulls a face and shrugs. “Hmmm. Dunno. Maybe that’s just you freaking out? And maybe, you know ... not feeling like you’re in control?” My stomach twists and I breathe a heavy sigh. Sneaking around sniffing boys pillows because they smell like them. I’d say that’s out of control. I’d say that borders on pretty fucking crazy. And then Emily says something which makes my whole body feel like it’s been set on fire. “You know he likes you back, right?” Fuck! “Mmmm. I dunno!” Fucking, fuckity fuck. “Oh come on, Seb!” It feels like my heart’s blowing up in my chest. I glance around to make sure Luke’s not on his way back to the table. “How do you know though?” I ask Emily, lowering my voice. “Because he looks at you the same way you look at him!” Oh my God. Emily’s right. I know she’s fucking right. I think I’ve known that Luke likes me for a while. Whether it’s anywhere near as much as I like I don’t know. I feel this sudden rush of excitement. But I’m kinda terrified too. “So what do I do?” She smiles and shrugs. “That’s up to you!” I look around again to make sure he’s not coming back to the table. “I think half of me just wants to ignore it. See if these, you know, feelings,” (I roll my eyes), “or whatever, go away!” “And the other half?” My insides clench and I smile at her. Then her facial expression suddenly changes and I know exactly why. I turn my head and, sure enough, Luke’s come back to the table. Both me and Emily try and act normal as he sits down, but there’s this unspoken tension. Luke looks a little suspicious. And also seems a bit nervous. God - I hope he doesn’t suspect that we were just talking about him. “Luke - Seb was just saying he wants to sing you another one of our Two The Same songs!” Emily says. “Erm … no, Seb was fucking not!” I reply. I look at Luke and his mouth curls into this big, cute, dimple showing grin. God I love those dimples. “Ooooh. There’s Max!” Emily says, looking over my shoulder. I turn around I can see cute, ginger Max with another guy. Emily gets up and goes towards them, leaving me sitting at the table with Luke. That tension is still there. I’m thinking about what Emily just said. That Luke likes me. I don’t know how much, I don’t know how deep those feelings go, but I know he likes me. And I have absolutely no idea what to do. I’ve never been in this situation before. Someone likes me who I actually like back. What if I kiss him and it’s nothing like I imagined? What if we act on our feelings and we realise it was one monumental mistake and then our friendship is ruined? What if I do something stupid and reckless and completely fuck things up? But what it, just what if, I kiss Luke and it’s fucking amazing? What if it’s everything I’ve imagined and bloody more?

Adventure Number Three As I walked to the gym I began to realize that ripping a bench loaded with four big guys out of the sidewalk had been easier than I would have thought. It didn’t even register to my toothpick arms that concrete was being torn apart as I easily yanked steel bolted to the ground into the air. And then pushing the steel column of the lamppost with what people would call a wimpy forefinger had been so unbelievably simple that I went slow just to make sure I didn’t slam the thing into the ground or easily snap it in two. I was getting stronger – much stronger – just as I had noticed with the hammer in the jock’s room earlier. What did it mean? When would my power stop? When I had my first wet dream at age twelve, I woke up the next morning and threw out my arms in a big yawn and stretch – but my fist was aimed for the headboard. I pummeled through the heavy wood with no problem, but then my fist went completely though the wall, too. All the way to the outside. You could see my neighbors’ house through the big hole – I had busted through drywall and concrete. That day I crushed seven door knobs, I shoved my brother to get out my way and he flew across the back yard, I ripped two doors off the hinges and away from their frame, and then I threw a dodgeball with a little too much strength and accidentally sent our coach and P.E. instructor soaring into the bleachers when I accidentally hit him with a bad throw. Luckily, nothing was broken. That was in junior high. I had become stronger every year since then and now I was a freshman in college with so much strength that I actually didn’t know just how powerful I truly was. This day’s feats had been a breeze, child’s play for me. I could feel the fact that, even though I was very thin, my body was now so thick – so dense – that even a speeding truck would be totaled if it hit me – and I wouldn’t move a bit. What was next? Super breath, able to blow down a building. Would I get x-ray vision, be able to change into fire or grow huge and green when I got angry? All of it was still a mystery to me, but I was damaging too many things by accident. I shook the hand of my big burly mechanic the other day, forgetting to shake lightly – mainly because he’s such a handsome dude – and sent him to his knees because I gripped too hard. A mechanic depended on his hands for his job, too. Was I eventually going to get too powerful to do normal things like hug someone or give a ‘high five’? Would blowing someone a kiss send him through all the walls of the house? And then there was the fact that I still looked like a dorky shrimp to everyone else – even to myself when I looked in the mirror. But that’s not the way I felt on the inside. I felt immortal. I felt like I towered over everyone and could intimidate others just by a slight movement of my arm. But I wasn’t as huge as the Hulk – even though I was just as strong. I was this runt of a fella that could lift the back of an SUV with one finger, toss a guy high enough for him to catch the plane he had missed, and forget about memorizing combinations for bank vaults – I could rip the huge thing open with a simple tug. I had adjusted to my new strength pretty quickly when I had been younger, but now it was getting so difficult to keep up. I was terrified I’d hurt people by accident. At the same time, however, my body’s strength turned me on so much that I could probably take out a row of tanks if I allowed my ejaculations to explode normally. I had to curtail them by tightening my cock or even holding it with a firm grip when I came. I still took out chunks of my dorm room walls and ceiling, but, at least, I didn’t bust out a gaping hole three-stories up, since I lived on the bottom floor. So, here I was - a childlike guy with the strength of superman. It just wasn’t fair, was it? I didn’t really mind about my size when I was using my strength – it just didn’t seem to matter I was small when I was lifting the back of a bus or ripping massive trees from the ground. It would have been cool, though, to have a body that made people anticipate my power. Although, I might not have gotten the chance to show off as much – people would be freaked out before I even did anything. This way, the surprise was half the fun. The big glass windows of the gym enabled me to see our three bully-stooges before I even entered. I recognized them immediately – mainly because they were presently picking on the sole other patron in the facility. They had obviously put the smaller guy on the floor and placed an unmovable weight-loaded bar on his stomach so he couldn’t move. It probably had taken two of the big dudes to lift the bar. They were all standing there looking at the little guy struggling with the bar and laughing. This only made me want to teach them a bigger lesson than before. The first thing I needed to do was get the little guy out of there, so he wouldn’t be a witness to the damage I was going to do. I didn’t need him to be accused of being an accomplice or even knowing about my abilities. When I got to the door and found it locked, I instantly turned super excited because I was going to be able to make a stupendous entrance, which was always a plus. My fist plowing through the metal door must have been as loud as a shotgun blast in the big room. I’m sure it scared the hell out of everyone. It felt like I was poking through tissue and I left a hole the size of a microwave. I’m sure it took the guys a while to figure out what happened, since it was probably hard to make out my skinny arm from across the gym. I pulled my hand out of the hole and admired how I had made all the metal look like jagged cardboard. I then took the butt of my palm and slammed it against the door – lower than the hole. The entire thing, frame and all, went shooting into the gym and banged against the wall on the other side. I think that got everyone’s attention. I couldn’t imagine what it must look like to see a little guy in a white short-sleeved shirt, glasses, pocket protector with two pens inside, and loafers walk in after that. “Well look, there’s a party and I wasn’t invited. I guess my invitation got lost in the campus mail. Sorry to bust in like that fellas, but for some reason the door was locked and I don’t really like locked doors. Haven’t met a lock, yet, that can keep me out, though. Care if I join in the fun? It looks like someone doesn’t actually want to be here.” I had continued to walk through the gym as I blabbered on. There was a definite tightening of my balls when I saw that the three bullies were all huge – members of the school wrestling team, I was sure. Showing off my strength to them was going to be fun. I just needed to help their victim head home, first. No one moved because they were still trying to figure out what was going on. One guy still stared at the destroyed door – imbedded in the wall. “Oh look, someone dropped some weights. That could be dangerous. I think I’m going to have to do some tidying up in here.” I reached down and grabbed the bar that stretched across the smaller guy’s body, pinning him to the floor. I did not, however, take hold of it in the middle. I grabbed it more at one end. When I lifted, though, the bar stayed perfectly straight, my strength easily capable of handling what must have been really hard for two of the big guys to even carry. I smiled at the freed captive and motioned to the destroyed doorway in the corner. The dude was on his feet and out of the gym by the time I tilted the weight bar up in the air as easily as I would a pencil and turned toward the baffled threesome. They were desperately trying to figure out how I was managing such an amazing trick with the weights. Clearly, I wasn’t strong enough to lift the things on my own – not to mention burst through a metal door so easily. As I talked, I waved the loaded bar around like I was some kind of peppy blonde drum major with a baton. I contemplated tossing it spinning in the air, but decided that was too much showing off – even for me. The three bullies watched me, dumbfounded, and ducked whenever I swung the bar near them. “So, fellas, it’s time you picked on someone with equal strength . . . well, not equal exactly. I think you’ll come to realize that even multiplying the three of you each by one hundred men wouldn’t come near to being the same as my power. Gosh, the looks on your faces makes it clear you think this bar is pretty heavy. Did you guys have trouble lifting this, because I find it as light as a toothpick. Seriously. Here, catch.” The three men dropped to the floor immediately – scared to death that I was going to toss the heavily weighted bar in their direction. They also screamed like terrified preschoolers. I smiled and held the bar so it stuck straight up. To freak these guys out like I was doing was the best feeling in the world. They were musclebound behemoths frightened of little ol’ me. I wasn’t done playing with them, though. Not by a longshot. It was time to up the ante some and make them even more nervous. I balanced the end of the bar on my forefinger – holding it aloft by moving my hand around. “Look at that, fellas. I’m holding all this weight with just one finger. Pretty awesome, huh? I’m also thinking this gym could do with some new artwork. It’s a little drab, don’t you think?” As I spoke I grabbed the end of the bar closest to me and swung the thing with a fraction of my full strength. The weights on the other end ripped the security bracket in two and went flying across the gym at a speed so fast it was hard to follow them. When they hit the wall, however, the sound of the impact was deafening. Six metal plates slammed into the concrete so hard they just sank into it – instantly fused together by the impact. It did, indeed, look like someone had put a painting of a weight on the wall. I was impressed with my work. The three bullies, however, were terrified by what I had done. “I think we need a matching piece on the other wall,” I said smiling. This time, I let the bar slide down until my hand met with the first plate secured at the end. I then turned it sideways and put my other hand on the outside plate. Then, I squeezed. I looked like some bizarre accordion player – but when I pressed in with both hands metal had no option but to submit to my power. I compressed the weights until they were one big unit – like pressing hamburger meat together to make bigger patties. The sound it created equaled two bulldozers slamming against each other to win some mechanical battle. To say I was now erect would have been an understatement. I was so hard off of my own strength I could have punctured the compressed pates with one poke of my super strong rod. I was pretty sure the fellas didn’t notice my hard-on because they were too amazed by what my wimpy-looking arms had done to the weights. I pushed the deformed mass off of the pole – demolishing the safety bracket the same way someone rips a bow off of a present. I then held the big blob of smashed plates like a discus and flung it in the opposite direction as last time. The thing looked like a flying saucer zooming through the air. It hit the other wall with the same amount of force as my first throw and the plates sliced into the concrete like a ninja’s shuriken piercing wood. Half of the manmade contraption stuck out into the room – again, looking like some wild muscleman’s artwork. When the sound of the wall being plowed by something stronger died down, I turned to my three new friends. As I spoke I slowly took the bar, which once held the weight, and started rolling it up like it was just a towel. “Man, I love the creative process, don’t you, guys? So, let’s get some things straight. I’m super strong and you’re not. I could toss all three of you through that concrete wall with no problem, at all. But, you see, I’m not like you three. I’m not a bully. I’m simply a guy that wants to make sure everyone’s being nice – everyone’s treating each other with respect. When I got to this little party, earlier, it looked like the three of you were treating a fellow student unkindly. Part of me thinks I should squeeze a few of these machines together with my powerful arms and then rest the thing on top of you three just to show you how our little friend felt earlier, but I think I’ve already ruined enough school property – the door, the plates, and this bar that is now rolled up like a garden hose. Watch as I flatten it into something resembling a pizza.” I noticed the biggest guy of the three slowly moving his hand toward a 15 kilograms dumbbell on a rack beside him. I did not let on that I saw what he was doing. Having thirty-three pounds of iron coming at me was going to be too much fun to not let it happen. As soon as he swung the grabbed piece of iron towards my head, I turned so it would hit me square in the face. Luckily, I had taken off my glasses when I had been swinging around the barbell earlier. My nose stopped the flight of the dumbbell with an abruptness that matched a flyswatter stopping a fly with a direct hit. Iron met something stronger – my face – and the reverberations of the halted mass sent pain through the guy’s hand and arm, causing him to drop the dumbbell on the ground and scream loudly. My neck was so anchored to my powerful body that I hadn’t budged at all – the big weight just kind of bounced off my tough-as-hell nose. I reached down and grabbed the dumbbell. “What did you think you were going to accomplish with that move, dude? You knew this thing wasn’t going to hurt me at all. Did you just want to see my face easily deflect it? Look how my nose made a big dent in the iron, fellas. Kind of hot, isn’t it. God, I love how even something this thick and sturdy gets abused by my body. Now, let’s imagine this was your head, man.” I put my small hands on either ends of the big weight, not being able to wrap my little fingers around the thicker part. I then started pushing in with my palms. The handle in the middle buckled immediately and the two ends banged into each other. I kept pushing. Iron compressed together – something much stronger than it was making it yield, easily. Soon, I had the dumbbell pressed into something as thin as a small paperback book. The iron had spread out more to accommodate what my power was doing. I could have probably molded it into a plate for a bar, but folding it up like a piece of paper seemed like more fun and watching the trio of shaking wrestlers get freaked out more was worth it. “So, if I can squeeze the hell out of this iron dumbbell with the use of very little of my strength, just imagine what I could do to that head of yours. Now, I’m sure you’ve figured out I wouldn’t do that to you, but I wanted you to know I could. Like I said earlier, I’m just here to put you three on a straight and narrow path. Clearly, you three weren’t disciplined enough as children and you think your size and strength give you the right to pick on others. Now, as fun as it would be to turn each of you over my knee one at a time and give you a spanking you’d never forget – and would feel for weeks to come – I just think I can convince you to be nicer by shocking the hell out of you with my strength. I’d hate to have to meet up with you at a later date because you didn’t get my message the first time, but know that I’d do it. I’d bring a few of these bars with me and make sure I twisted them so tight around your body that’d you’d be wearing them until I thought you’d learned your lesson. So, you see my over-muscled friends, it’s the little geek that’s putting you in your proper place tonight. Now, I think there needs to be a little pain – to help you remember our little chat – so I’m thinking the four of us need to wrestle. Oh no, don’t argue about it, fellas. I’m sure you know it’s not an even match, but I promise to go light on you.” I had already noticed mats on the floor in a corner of the room nearby. With speed that surprised each guy before he could do anything, I grabbed them one by one at the front of their sweatshirt and sweatpants, powered them over my head, and then launched them into the air over a couple of machines so they all landed with a loud thud in the center of the mats. I walked slowly and with as much cockiness a little guy can muster toward them as they laid there, still wondering what had happened. I removed my shirt, shoes, and pants, carefully laying them across a bench. I then stood there in all of my short, waif-like glory – making sure they fully grasped that this little guy, this mighty mouse, was the one about to whoop their asses. “I’ll try not to forget how strong I am, gentlemen, and do any permanent damage. I can get carried away, sometimes, and forget normal guys can’t tie a crowbar into a knot, shove a cement truck a half of block down the street, or rip apart cinder blocks for fun. I can’t help myself a lot of times because I just get so turned on by what this scrawny body can do – like tossing each of you through the air as if you were just a pair of balled-up socks. You fellas look scared. That’s a good thing. It means you’re learning the lesson I’m trying to share with you. We could probably stop right now, but where would be the fun in that. I need to show off more. Here, look at my flexed twig of an arm and remember it’s what caused you pain.” I flexed my little arm and all three guys stared at it. By the look on their faces you would have thought I was a seven-foot muscled monster, which I wasn’t. It was just that they fully knew what my arms were capable of. This was going to be fun.

Okay, doing something a bit different with this next chapter. Because it's so long and the end part needs some work I'm splitting it up into shorter parts. I should probably say I don't think I'll make a habit of doing this just in case anyone has any strong objections to me sharing the chapter this way. Eighteen I wake up to the sound of the shower running. Today’s the day me and Luke go down to stay with Emily in Bristol. I’m excited but I’m a kinda nervous too. I’m sure Emily and Luke will get on fine, but I don’t know how I’m going to act around the both of them. I’m a different person when I’m with Emily. We’ve been friends since primary school so I don’t really have to put on a front with her. I’m also worried that she’s going to see straight through me and will be able to tell that I like Luke. The thought of which makes me pretty fucking anxious. I’m not really sure if I’m ready for that. Emily was fine about Luke coming. I think she was surprised more than anything. She knows I don’t exactly fit in here at Muscle University. Plus, the last time I mentioned Luke to her I was seriously pissed off about having a new roommate. I told her that we’d become friends and that Luke was “one of us”. Then she text and asked me if he was cute. Which made me feel kinda nervous. But also partly made me want to reply telling her that yes, he’s so fucking cute that I literally think about nothing but how much I want to kiss and cuddle him. So much so that I sometimes think I might explode if I don’t. Instead I just text back with, “I guess so?”. So right now Emily knows nothing about my feelings for Luke. Whether that will last, I have no fucking idea. I roll over to face Luke’s side of the room and oh my God, I can’t fucking believe it. My heart seems to have jumped into my throat, because pinned to the wall above Luke’s bed is the illustration I drew of Tommy “The Tank” Foster. The one he asked if he could have the other day when I showed him my illustrations for the first time. I still can’t believe he asked if I could have it. And now he’s put it up on the wall above his bed where he can see it when he opens his eyes every morning? Fuck. Okay - that has to mean something, right? It just has to. He comes out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. Helloooo cute, little abs. “Morning!” he says cheerily, with a little smile. “Hey!” I reply, still lying in bed. “When did you put the illustration on your wall?” My chest tightens. “Oh. Erm … this morning!” he says to me, a little sheepishly as he walks over to his bed. “Sorry. Do you want me to take it down?” I can’t help but smile. “Don’t be daft!” He gives a cute little grin in response and my chest swells. Argh! What is he fucking doing to me? When Luke goes to his A History of Bodybuilding lecture, I get showered and dressed, fill out the online entry form for the end of term bodybuilding show where there’s a fairly good chance that I’ll kick Deano’s big, round bubble butt, then book an Uber to take us to the train station. “Does your dad know you’re using his Uber account again?” Luke asks me a little later on as we’re making our way out of the room with our holdalls for the weekend. “How many more times, Luke. He won’t even notice!” He’s wearing his white Marvel t-shirt and bright blue downs jacket again. I’m so excited. Me and Luke embarking on another adventure. Only this time it’s not just for one night. This time it’s for the whole weekend. “Oh, I keep meaning to ask. How are your new pink posing trunks?” I ask him as we make our way through Hanson Hall. Luke rolls his eyes and gives me a sheepish smirk. “I’m … building up to it!” he says. Fuck! It sounds like Luke actually might fucking do it. That I actually might get to see what his insanely cute arse looks like in a pair of pink trunks. “Luke - you’re not nervous about buying pink posers are you?” I tease. He pulls a face and shrugs, clearly not wanting to admit that he actually is nervous about the prospect of buying pink posers from the campus store. Which is so fucking adorable I think I could cry. Maybe all Luke needs is a little push from someone? Hmmm. Maybe I should be that very person to give it to him? I look at my watch. We definitely have time to make a detour. Should I? Could I? Fuck it. “Right, come on!” I say, suddenly stopping and turning around to walk in the opposite direction. I can’t quite believe I’m doing this. “What?!” Luke asks, looking genuinely baffled. “You’re getting those pink trunks!” Oh my GOD! “What, NOW?!” This might be the single greatest thing I’ve ever fucking done. “Yes, now!” I tell him, walking briskly in the direction of the campus store. He has no choice but to follow. He looks a little nervous. Kind of embarrassed. But I can tell he’s excited at what’s unfolding. As am I. I’m leading Luke to buy a pair of shiny pink posers like the ones I’ve been imagining him wearing all week and my whole body is fucking buzzing. “You’re overthinking it, Luke. You just need to act!” Luke pulls a face but now he’s smiling at me. This giddy, excited little grin. Hmmm. Maybe I should take my own advice. Maybe I’m overthinking these feelings I’m having for Luke and I just need to act on them. Maybe I need to kiss him right fucking now in the middle of the hallway in front of a dozen passing Muscle University students. Not long after and once again I’m standing next to Luke looking at the magnificent display of beautiful posing trunks in the campus store. It’s crazy how far we’ve come since we were last stood in this very spot just a few weeks ago. And how much things have changed between us. Luke’s just standing there looking a bit awkward. I’m glaring at him wide eyed and nodding towards the insanely hot pink posers on the display, but he’s not making the move to reach for them. I groan. “For fuck’s sake!” I say. I shake my head, step forward and reach for the peg of pink trunks to find Luke’s size. As soon as my fingers meet with the shiny trunk material, my dick starts to swell in my jeans. When I find a pair in Luke’s size, I bring them down and thrust them towards him to take. His face is a fucking picture. He still looks a little embarrassed, but I can tell he wants them. Like, really fucking wants them. He takes them from me and his mouth curls into this big, excited grin. I wish I could just pause time and take a picture of this moment. Luke’s giddy grin as he clutches a pair of his first pink posing trunks. I guess I don’t really need a picture because I have a feeling I’m not gonna forget this memory any time soon. Luke looks so sheepish as he hands the pink trunks to the mountain of third year man muscle behind the counter. The guy raises an eyebrow as he looks at the trunks but doesn’t say anything. All the time I’m standing next to him biting my lip and giving him a teasing smirk, while wondering if it’s possible for anyone to be any more fucking adorable than Luke is being right now. “Was that so bad?” I ask him as we leave the store. He rolls his eyes at me and gives me a sheepish smirk as he stuffs the little blue bag containing his brand new trunks into his holdall. I wonder if I can persuade Luke to try them on when we get to Emily’s in Bristol? “You do know what this means, right?” he says to me as we head back through the halls. “What?” I ask, confused. “Our deal? Now you’ve gotta wear your pink trunks to Posing Practice!” I pull a face like I don’t know what he’s talking about. “I … do not remember any such conversation!” I tease. Luke’s mouth hangs open a little and I mischievously smirk at him. “What if I go one better?” I say, my chest fluttering. “What if I wear them to the end of term bodybuilding show?” What a fucking thought! I’m not sure if I would actually have the balls to do that. I don’t know though. If it would impress Luke then I think I actually might. Luke bites his lip and grins. “Wait - did you fill out the online entry form?” I nod. “This morning!” He gives me an excited grin. “Are you gonna come and watch?” I ask, feeling a twinge of nerves. “Hmmm. Might be fun to watch Deano kick your arse, I guess!” And now I’m looking at him with my mouth hung open. The little fucker. He’s giving me a teasing smirk and now I’m smiling back. A little later on and we’re sitting opposite each other with a table in between us on the train to Bristol. Luke’s little biceps are bulging out of his white Marvel t-shirt. “Well at least now you’ve got your outfit for tomorrow night sorted!” I tell him. Luke furrows his eyebrows at me in confusion, clearly not getting it. “Your new pink posers!” I explain. Luke smirks and shakes his head. “God knows where I’m gonna wear those!” I shrug and pull a “so what” face. I consider making a joke about how the two of us could throw a pink posing trunk party in our dorm room. And now I just have an image in my head of me and Luke hanging out on one of our beds wearing nothing but our shiny pink posers. And I’m getting a fucking hard on underneath this table! “So I take it your friend, you know … knows about you?” Luke asks. “Well it would be a bit pointless pretending to be straight considering she’s a lesbian!” Luke smiles and nods. “So did you come out to each other at school?” “Yep! We even went to our first gay pub together!” Luke grins at me. “How old were you?” “Erm … seventeen, I think?” “Were you already competing in bodybuilding shows by then?” “Ummm … yeah. I was!” Luke’s mouth curls into an ominous grin which for some reason makes me feel a pinch of excitement. Then he looks over my shoulder, like he’s deep in thought. “God!” he says, shaking his head. “What?” He looks me in the eyes and smirks. “You must have been popular!” Wow. It feels like someone’s pinched my heart. And I’m completely failing to hide the smile on my face. Because Luke just paid me a compliment. I pull an indifferent face and just shrug. “Well … what can I say?” I reply cheekily. Luke rolls his eyes, still smirking at me. “So … did you have, like, boyfriends back home?” he asks, suddenly seeming a little nervous. “No!” I scoff, like he’s just asked me a stupid question. Luke furrows his eyebrows at me. “Okay! Bit of a weird reaction!” I shrug. He continues to look at me. Then his face falls for a second and something flickers in his expression. “What … no one lived up to your standards?” he says. For some reason I feel a sudden panic. “No! It wasn’t that!” I say, feeling a little defensive. “I mean, there were a couple of guys who I was kinda seeing for a bit. I dunno, I guess the boyfriend thing just didn’t happen for me.” Because none of those guys back home gave me butterflies like you do. None of them occupied my mind constantly the way you do. None of them made me feel like I might go crazy if I didn’t just grab them and fucking kiss them soon. “So ... you were just a massive slag then?” Luke jokes. I laugh and my mouth hangs open in shock. “What about you? Any boyfriends?” I ask, feeling a twist in my stomach. Luke nods. “Yeah. Just the one! We were in the sixth form together at school.” I nod. Huh. So Luke’s had a boyfriend. “So …. what happened? Did he not approve of your goal to become a shredded muscle freak?” He gives me this big, giddy grin and bites his lip. Then his expression turns more serious. “Hmmm. Well … we were both going to different universities.” I nod. It’s funny, now that I know that Luke had a boyfriend at school, he suddenly seems a little different somehow. More mature I guess. “It wasn’t just that though!” Luke says. He turns his head and looks out the train window in thought. “Oh-kaay!” I say, wanting to hear more. He looks back at me. “I think I kinda realised that … in the end, I dunno, I thought of him more as a friend? Like … ugh, this sounds really awful, but I think maybe wanted to like him more than I actually did?” I nod. “I can relate to that!” I tell him, failing to hide the massive grin on my face. My God, can I relate to that! He smiles back at me and then he looks out of the window again. “It’s kinda weird when you think about it!” he says, mysteriously. “What?” He turns his head to face me again, this little smirk on his face. “Well … you’ve never had a boyfriend and I have. I kinda feel like it should be the other way round!”

So happy to hear, dude! I re-read a bunch of his work in preparation. Even for a guy who’s mostly straight, geektofreek’s description and detail of muscle was banana popping.

Hell yes. More FMG!

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