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Twenty Six “Okay, lads, I’ve done you a gym schedule for your training!” Johnny says, handing Deano and me a list each. Like yesterday, we’re back in his office going through the details of what’s expected for this joint bloody coursework we’re being forced to do together for the end of term bodybuilding show. I look at the schedule. For fuck’s sake. I have to train with Deano practically every day for the next two weeks. At some point we have to go through each other’s posing routines to try and make improvements too. And we also have to film videos of each other posing. I guess that won’t be too bad. I wonder if Luke is allowed to watch? The only thing getting me through his little meeting Johnny has set up is thinking about the fact that I woke up with my arms wrapped around Luke again this morning. And that we spent the little time we had in his bed with him cuddled into me, his cute little head on my chest and his arms wrapped around my waist as I squeezed him and gently planted kisses on his head. “Right then, boys ... everything clear on the coursework?” I look at Deano sitting in the chair next to mine. He nods at Johnny, looking disgruntled. “And Deano … there’s one more thing you’re required to do!” He looks confused. “Woody, where’s Luke likely to be right now?” Huh? Now I’m as equally confused as Deano is. “Erm … probably back at our dorm room?” “Perfect. You can take a detour there before you do your first gym session together. Deano - I want you to apologise to Luke Henderson!” Oh my fucking GOD YES! I couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face right now even if I wanted to. “What for?!” Deano asks, almost like he’s outraged. I scoff loudly. Did he seriously just ask that fucking question? Johnny just gives Deano a stern glare. “Fine!” he mumbles, defeated. God - Deano apologising to Luke. Now this I can’t wait to fucking see. Even if it does involve Deano coming to our dorm room, which will - UGH - probably be really fucking awkward and weird. I check my phone as I lead Deano to my dorm room and find myself smiling when I see Luke’s name on my screen. He’s sent me a text message. “Are you on your way back?” It’s a little odd. He’s never texted me like this before asking where I am. Maybe he just really wants to see me? I tap away on my phone and type a reply. “Yes! Be there in 2 mins (winky face emoji).” I should probably warn him what’s happening. But it might be kind of fun to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face when I turn up at the door with Deano in tow. “What did Johnny mean yesterday?” Deano asks me in an almost aggressive tone, his face screwed up. Jesus. It’s like he’s incapable of talking to me like a regular fucking person. “When?” I ask, confused. “When he said you had ‘other training commitments’?” “Oh! Erm … I’ve sort of been helping Luke out,” I reply, my stomach suddenly clenching. Shit - I’m not really sure if it’s okay for me to tell Deano that. It feels like a sore point between me and Luke. Not that we’ve actually discussed it since it all came out into the open a few days ago. “No offense, but … I’m not sure it’s really working!” Deano says, pulling a face. “I’ve literally taken him to the gym once! He’s not exactly gonna turn into a monster over night is he?” Deano shrugs. “I could turn Henderson into a monster easily! Give me … six months tops!” “Sure you could, Deano!” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m serious. I did personal training at my dad’s gym back home.” And for the first time ever I think I’m actually mildly interested in something Deano has said. I’m sure it won’t become a habit. “Where’s that?” “Brighton.” I nod, resisting the urge to point out the irony that someone who’s spent the past few weeks making jokes about my sexuality lives in the gay capital of the country. And then something clicks. “Wait - isn’t there a bodybuilding gym down there called Deano’s?” He nods, trying to act cool. But he’s failing to hide a smug smirk. “Your dad named his gym after you?” I ask, screwing up my face but secretly impressed. Wow - Deano must have a pretty fucking great relationship with his dad for him to have named his gym after him. I feel a weird tug in my stomach. “Not … exactly!” Deano says, suddenly seeming not so smug. He rolls his eyes. “My dad’s called Deano too!” HA! I nod, suddenly finding myself smiling. “Wait - so there’s two of you? Jesus!” And now we’re at the door to mine and Luke’s room and I feel a sudden pang of nerves. This is one scenario I never thought I’d find myself in. Taking Deano Watkins to my dorm room. What the actual fuck? And yet - I suddenly find myself smiling. Probably out the sheer fucking absurdity of the situation. I open the door and oh my fucking GOD! I panic and slam it shut again. Because I just caught a glimpse of Luke standing in the middle of the fucking room flexing his biceps and wearing nothing but his shiny pink posing trunks with a cheeky grin on his face. WHAT THE FUCK?! “What are you doing?!” Deano asks, glaring at me with a confused expression. It doesn’t look like he saw Luke behind my back. Thank GOD. “He’s … half naked!” I say, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of what just happened. And also because I absolutely love the fact that Luke wanted to greet me in such a cute, funny (and fucking sexy) way. So that’s why he texted me earlier to ask if I was on my way back? “So?!” Deano scoffs. Oh shit. Deano sees Luke wearing nothing but his posers every Monday morning in Posing Practice. “I mean … he’s naked naked!” Deano pulls a face like, what the fuck? “Dangly bits … flapping about!” “I GET IT!” I text Luke. “Deano is with me!! P.S. PHWOAR! (One eye closed, tongue out emoji).” I look at Deano, biting my bottom lip and trying to act casually. Luke texts back. “Oh shit! 2 mins! P.S. Hehe! (Blushing and smiling face emoji).” I try not to smile too much as I read Luke’s text, because a weirded out and slightly suspicious (fuck!) looking Deano is still just glaring at me. The dorm room door opens. “Sorry!” Luke says, now fully dressed and looking flustered and awkward. “I was just getting changed!” I’m trying so fucking hard to wipe the smile off my face as I lead Deano into our room. “Alright, Deano!” Luke says, with far more politeness than the guy deserves. “Henderson!” he replies, with a little nod. I shut the door and the three of us are just standing there looking at each other. God this is awkward. But clearly more so for Deano. He looks so fucking uncomfortable. He’s looking around the room with his nose turned up. “My room’s way bigger than this!” I roll my eyes and sigh. “Good for you, Deano!” I say, giving Luke a look. “So what do you two do in here all day?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. Oh my GOD. I can’t help sneaking a quick smirk at Luke. “Well, mostly we just watch Harry Potter films wearing nothing but our Hufflepuff and Gryffindor boxer shorts!” Deano pulls a face, looking completely weirded out. Meanwhile, a shocked but clearly amused Luke gives me a wide eyed look. And now there's an awkward pause. None of us are saying anything. I look at Deano wide eyed, and then nod to Luke pointedly but he’s not saying anything. He looks so uncomfortable right now and I’m loving every fucking second of it. I fold my arms across my chest and clear my throat loudly. “Deano … was there something you wanted to say to Luke?” I ask in a teasing, patronising manner. Luke looks confused. Deano breathes a deep sigh. “Johnny wants me to … apologise to you!” he says, rolling his eyes. “Oh right!” Luke says, surprised. And now his mouth starts to curl into an amused little smirk. “For ... you know, what happened yesterday at Posing Practice!” Luke gives him a little nod and I shoot him a knowing grin. We’re both looking at Deano, waiting for him to continue, but he’s not saying anything. I glare at him wide eyed again. “What?!” he asks me, annoyed. “Go on then. Apologise!” “I just did!” I groan and shake my head. “That’s okay, Deano!” Luke says in a manner that’s both patronising and funny as hell. And now Deano seems to be looking at something behind Luke, his eyes slightly squinted. “Did you draw that?” he asks Luke, pointing to my illustration of Tommy Foster pinned to the wall above his bed. Oh shit! My stomach clenches tightly as Deano walks towards the picture and leans on Luke’s bed with his hand to get a closer look. I shoot Luke a wide eyed look and nod for him to say yes. “Erm … yep! Yeah, I did!” Luke says, pulling an eeek face at me over Deano’s back. “WOW!” Deano exclaims, studying it. Fuck! I was not expecting that reaction from Deano. Luke looks surprised too. “What do you think of it?” Luke asks Deano, giving me a mischievous smirk. I suddenly feel oddly nervous. “It’s … really fucking cool!” Deano says, with complete sincerity. And now my chest is fluttering. Wow - I never thought I’d feel like this from anything Deano Watkins said to me. He stands up straight again and backs away from the wall and I try to act cool. “Right then, Draco Malfoy!” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder, which, I have to admit, feels really big and ridiculously solid. “Ready to get pumped up?” “Sooo … what’s the plan for today?” I ask Deano, on the walk to the Watson House gym. He looks at me and pulls a face. Fuck’s sake. He’s such a dick. I could be lying on Luke’s bed right now cuddled up to him. Instead I’m being forced to hang out with fucking Deano. At least watching him squirm as he was forced to apologise to Luke was funny. I won’t be forgetting that in a hurry. “Like … you know, what are we training?” I ask, with a sigh. Deano shrugs. “It’s arm day for me!” I roll my eyes. I really can’t be bothered to argue with him. “I guess I’m doing arms then!” I look over at him. He doesn’t say anything but his face has softened. I’m sure I can even see a hint of a smug grin emerging. Like he’s got one over on me. “I bet fucking Mafra’s doing the show!” he says, disgruntled. “Mmmm. Probably!” Eric Mafra is hands down the biggest first year at Montgomery University. Maybe they have better roids back in Brazil because the bastard is fucking huge. “How the fuck am I supposed to compete against him?” Deano say, clearly riled up. I could say something complimentary about Deano’s short stacked pocket rocket physique. Hmmm. Fuck that. “They should have two height classes for the first years!” he continues. “Yeah, but you’d be the only one in your height class!” “Exactly!” he says. And I have to admit, that makes me smile. Ugh. Deano just said something that I found funny. God I hate this! I look across (and down) at him. “You are … freakishly short! Is it just the one parent who’s a dwarf?” He looks at me and gives me a fake sarcastic smile. But when it fades, I see the unmistakable hint of a real smile there in it’s place. At least I can have fun with the put downs while I’m being forced to train and hang out with Deano. And for a moment there I think that maybe our first training session won’t be a completely terrible experience. But I’m wrong. So, so fucking wrong. Because it’s mostly horrendous. As soon as we hit the weights, one thing becomes abundantly clear. Deano does not understand the concept of compromise. It’s his way or the fucking highway. Almost every single thing I suggest, every single way I train, Deano has a better fucking way of doing it. And is there any teenie tiny possibility that my way could actually be better? Is. There. Fuck. Like when I tell him that I don’t like a certain way of doing my bicep curls, he goes on and on about how you get a better pump. He fucking insists on it. Like it’s a scientifically proven fact. Rather than just his opinion. ARGH!! There’s one slight benefit though. I find that I’m pushing myself just that little bit harder, lifting just that little bit heavier. Not to impress Deano. But to compete against him. And I have to admit, part of me sort of does enjoy that aspect of it. Is it worth all of the other crap I have to endure and having to train with someone who is an obnoxious, ignorant prick? Fuck no! But maybe (just maybe) I’ll actually come away from these painful training sessions with my twat faced arch nemesis for the better. *** And how's this for an Easter egg - Deano's Gym was actually referenced in a story I wrote a few years back called "Have You Seen These Posing Trunks?" (which you can read on the board here). It was described as a hardcore bodybuilding gym located in Brighton, which is where that story was set. Liam "The Guns" Watson (also referenced here) was the bodybuilder featured in that story and was also referenced and featured in "AJ & Noah" (he competed in the bodybuilding show AJ guest posed at).

He threw the trophy to the floor. The muscular head cracked off the figure and the plastic plinth it stood on smashed into pieces. “Second place? Second fucking place” - he knew he’d been robbed. Years of hard work, early mornings in the gym, the diet, the sacrifices ... the roids. He knew he was worth more than second place. He stood in the bathroom backstage, his body pumped, vascular and as big as it had ever been. Wearing only his deep red posing trunks which struggled to hold his leviathan back, he scanned his body. His pecs were full, round and a huge deep crevice between them dripped with sweat. Quads were massive, smooth and pushed his cock forward making it seem even bigger than it was. He looked good and he knew it. Ever since he’d taken up bodybuilding, he’d become sexually aroused by his growth. With every new growth spurt, it had sexually charged him, pushing him to want to add more size. He’d no need of a partner because looking at his bull like reflection turned him on - self worship was all he needed. He lifted his hulking arms up into a double bicep. The veins bulged like newly laid cables. He couldn’t resist - his tongue found the peak and it explored every inch. Next - down into a most muscular. “Fuck” he thought - “I’m a fucking GOD”. With that, the leviathan awoke. Uncurling itself from its sleep, his bulge grew bigger and bigger “yes, fuck - look at how big I’ve become” he roared. Now at full mast, the posing trunks could hardly contain the granite structure it held. His fingers and thumb felt along the elastic strap of the trunks, it was stretched to its capacity. His thumbs now under the strap hardly needed any help as he pulled them away from his body. The elastic gave way and his monstrous cock smashed against his abs. The posing trunks fell to the floor, ripped and ruined. Now totally naked he could explore his body further. His left hand slid down across his ridged steel abs to where his fingers could cup his avocado sized balls while his thumb stroked the heaving sack. His right hand grabbed the shaft and it began rhythmically stroking his member. His fingers rubbing the ridge of his mushroom while his thumb coaxed the precum from the slit. His body was tanned, huge and he knew he should have come first. He didn’t even notice the door to the bathroom close - he was too intent on worshipping his body. “What the fuck are you doing mate” - a voice called from behind him “This is a public bathroom - you fucking freak” - the voice continued. He couldn’t hear him - his body was all he could focus on. The voice came closer “Hey mate fucking stop that - that’s ..” But that’s as much as the voice said His left elbow smashed backwards into the guys jaw - momentarily leaving the comfort of his ball sack. The trophy the guy was carrying fell to the floor. He turned, naked, pumped and a mix of horny and angry. “Why the fuck they gave you first place ill never know” he said With that, his right hand stoped the rhythmic pumping of his cock and now in a fist - it hit him on the guys right cheekbone making a cracking sound as it did. Almost defiantly crushing the eye socket. The guy fell to the floor, catching his posing trunks on a door handle as he went, tearing them from his body. Writhing in pain, blood pouring from his cheek and nose, the guy was now naked and unable to move. “And that’s what you call an excuse for a dick?” He said staring at what looked like a prepubescent cock. “I’m bigger, I’m stronger and my dick is superior to yours” He stood over the guy in a most muscular pose, a string of precum from his abs to his cock. His right hand in a first again and this time it landed square in his already damaged jaw, cracking it as it came down. The guys tongue lolled out of his mouth, unable to speak, half dazed, half dead. The mighty bodybuilder was slain. He knelt down next to him, his throbbing cock in need of fulfilment. He took the guys head in one hand and with the other, fed his snake of a cock into the guys mouth. Now in a squat position and his member in place, both hands took control of the guys head. He forced it into and out of the guys mouth. Thrusting it with immense power and strength. Feeling the broken jaw cracking and being in control of such a huge muscular man, turned him on. His dick swelled with pleasure, knowing he’d now had taken out his opposition. The guy gagged and feebly tried to stop the rhythmic movement of his cock - but failed. He turned and looked in the mirror. Seeing the guy slumped on the floor and how his massive body had conquered it made his balls tighten - he was ready to unload. As if sensing it, the guy made a final attempt to stop him from ravaging his mouth - but failed. A hot stream of protein and roid cum pumped into the guys mouth. The guy began to choke. but this only spurred him on. Deeper he thrust his member, making sure the guy got one final and privileged protein shake before he died. Anabolic cum spewed into the guys throat and he was unable to resist. The guy inhaled and began to choke. With one final spurt it was over. He withdrew his satisfied cock and wiped the remainder of his cum on the guys cheek. He stood up and placed one foot on the guys chest. With a deep roar he pushed his foot down, his arms in a double bicep pose - the guys ribs cracked under his immense size and strength. The guy was finished, he’d taken his last breath. He looked in the mirror. He was victorious at last - as it should always have been. He walked over and picked the guys trophy up from the floor - it was his now and now the competition had been taken out - nobody else could stand in his way. He was the ultimate human being, a superior bodybuilder, a true muscle god.

You would be, indeed. But don’t let that stop you!

Can they actually be friends???? This was amazing and a great affition to have more of deano

Once again, another amazing chapter! I check daily...sometimes multiple times a day...love it! Side note...I really how you are weaving an actual story instead of just growth and muscle porn. Can’t wait for the next installment!!

Finally Deano's fanbase will be feeded! Amazing chapter as usual

Awww! Thanks, mate - that's really sweet of you. Another Deano fan?? So we're up to about 4 people now?

Hehe! Thanks, mate. That's probably one of my favourite Woody lines. The dialogue between him and Deano in general was really fun to write.

Would I be a massive tease if I said I had an idea for a whole Deano spin off story in my head where we get to meet Deano Snr and his older bodybuilding brother (both of whom are also piss taking, twat faced pocket rockets)?

You hit the nail right on the head. That's what puts muscleaddict's writing head and shoulders above the norm.

Sometimes even the nice guys among us feel the need to engage our dark sides. It's a healthy outlet to keep us sane. Some people get all bent out of shape about stories such as these, but I don't see how they are any worse than slasher films that remain popular. You like to see someone killed by muscle in a story and you're a deviant. Seeing them sliced in half by a chainsaw is a Saturday night excuse to sell popcorn. Go figure. BTW, this was awesome! My only wish, not a criticism of this story, would be to see a story that combines the elements of growth with the snuff somehow.

Yep - lots of Deano bits coming up over the next few chapters to keep fans of the twat faced pocket rocket happy (so erm...basically you and @reeddune)! If you like the idea of something making him squirm then you should like the next one!

Dylan’s Muscle Growth BY LORUS My name is Dylan. Dylan Mass. Can you actually believe that’s my surname? What were my parents thinking? My dad took part in some secret government experiment back in the early ‘90s and changed his surname from ‘Grady’ to ‘Mass’ in anticipation of “big changes” to come. Alas, the experiment was a failure. Or so the powers-that-be initially thought. One hundred men signed up for the trial of this serum connected to Area 51, or some shit like that. I don’t have all the details, as all records of the program were destroyed when the secret facility “accidentally” burned down. My dad, along with ninety-nine other suckers, were told their bodies would be transformed into supermen: Metazoans, to be exact. But it never happened. The 100 men went their separate ways and everything was forgotten over time. Until I and several dozen others were born some years later. And now most of us are in our late teens or early twenties, and things were very different for us. Before I continue my story, let me explain what Metazoans are. We’re super-HUGE bodybuilders, one and all. Of coure, we’re not all exactly the same. This is determined by when our genetic gifts passed on by our gay fathers – yup, you heard me – actually kick in. The guys who develop early into puberty have all that extra adolescent growth hormone to help them grow not only massive muscles, but reach huge heights, too. There’s one guy in America, Ronny Fortuna, who is over 12-feet tall, and weighs over 5000 lbs. He’s the biggest documented Metazoan in the world. Huge, yes, but it’s not just about height versus weight and the overall distribution of muscle mass around the body. It’s got to do with muscle density. That’s what all we growth-freaks focus on with our eating and training, as well as how much Metazenic activity is happening in our bodies’ cells. The lucky ones – like me and only two others in the world – were late bloomers. Sure, we went through adolescence like any other bloke, but we knew we were special because we were naturally big and athletic from late childhood onwards. But our heights developed more or less just beyond the natural threshold, so all three of us are pretty much of equal height . And, like all Metazoans, we were encouraged – with help from the Cyrus Redfern Institute of Metazenic Research – to bodybuild like fucking crazy, so that when our Metazenic genes finally kicked in post-puberty, our muscle gains would be crazy. I stopped gaining height when I turned 18. 6 feet 6 inches is really a terrific height for a bodybuilder. I may not be anywhere near Ronny Fortuna’s weight. But I’m half the height he is and, well... let me start at the beginning. Lots of good stuff here. And it’ll have you cumming like a fucking rutting bull, I guarantee it. So back then I stopped gaining height at 18. Which was fine. It meant that I could concentrate on packing on as much muscle as possible, which to guys like me, really is to grow without limit. The feeling of my muscles getting bigger and bigger and bigger with no end in sight, makes me want to jizz just by thinking about it. Oh man, if only you normals could live my life. Once the height increases stopped, I really began to fill out. I celebrated my 18th birthday at a special ceremony hosted by the good folks at the Redfern Institute. Cyrus Redfern came out of hiding three years before this, when the government approached him to not exactly re-initiate the program he’d designed that everyone thought had utterly failed, but to create a facility where the gay sons of the gay men who partook of the original experiment could now be monitored and studied. But it’s not like we’re lab rats or anything. We’re not locked in cages and prodded with sticks or nothing. We actually have every luxury afforded to us. Redfern and his team are particularly interested in me and the other two who no longer gain height, but seem to grow bigger, stronger and denser muscles as if by mental will alone. Daniel – from Sweden – weighs about the same as I did back then, but my pecs are way­ bigger than Daniel’s, which got him miffed every so often, when I’d beat his bench press record, sometimes with just one arm, heh heh heh. I will admit to being an upper-body growth freak, and although my legs are pretty well-developed, I tend to concentrate on growing my upper body as much as possible. I’m the bustiest bodybuilder on the planet, even “out-peccing” the 7- and 8-footers, who continue to gain height proportionate to their increases in mass, so it looks like they’re not really filling out as much as myself, Daniel and Flex. Flex is the baby of the three. 18 years-old now, but stopped gaining height when he was fifteen, reaching a respectable 6 feet 3 inches. He was bodybuilding near-constantly, even dropping out of school. There was no need for us to get smart. Everything we’d ever need monetarily would be provided by the Redfern Institute, so we could concentrate on being big dumb muscle-jocks building our bodies to godlike prortions and beyond. Flex doesn’t have the mass of me or Daniel, but his cock is fucking enormous. I love to get fucked by it as much as possible, because being fucked helps me to concentrate on training harder and getting huge beyond belief. In fact, Flex spends more time fucking us other “hugies” – sometimes even during our training sessions – than actually concentrating 500% on his own bodybuilding. Musky muscle-sex in a Redfern-facilitated gym is one of the best things ever. Even my gorgeous male model boyfriend Cole gets in on the action. He’s not a bodybuilder, and has no plans to ever take it up. He’s not Metazenic, but is a respectable 6 feet tall and a slender 145 lbs. His weight tends to fluctuate, though. And that’s my fault. But I’ll get to that later. A week after my 18th birthday, I noticed that I wasn’t gaining further muscle mass. I’d been recently measured, in awe of my 48-inch arms, 103-inch chest, taut 34 waist, mammoth 60-inch thighs and 32-inch calves. The Institute developed some amazing new training equipment as a present for my birthday, plus refinements to the Enerflex serum originally given to our fathers, only it didn’t work on them but instead passed into their semen, so that when they impregnated our mothers... well you get the idea. Enerflex helps us to grow in the same way steroids work on regular 'mortal' bodybuilders. Except with us the growth is more dramatic. Enerflex used to work pretty fast, actually increasing our mass in just minutes. But that led to uncomfortable skin-tightening – and in extreme but rare cases – actual tearing. The formula was refined and now it’s a slow-release metabolic catalyst. It also makes our skin more elastic, so we don’t get stretch marks or tearing. Redfern provided me a decent dose of Enerflex for my birthday, so I could put the new machines to the test. Using powerful electromagnets to provide the resistance where normal gym iron simply couldn’t give muscle-gods like us the workouts we deserved, I soon had their gears grinding and wailing as I pushed the machines to their limit. I broke all of my lifting records and grew ENORMOUS in just two hours, bursting out of my gym clothes until I was fuckin’ naked in front of my parents, younger step-brothers (non-Metazoans), as well as the onlooking team of understudies under Redfern’s tuition. It’s fine. My parents are really open-minded about this sort of thing because they accept and encourage me to become an even more exceptional son. My step-bros, whom my step-mum had prior to marrying my father are just typical averagely-built teenagers. Bud, the youngest, is into video-games and nothing but. He has no interest in getting a girlfriend, whereas Stevie is a bit of a slut and goes through girls like tenpins, which is his thing. Even though we’re not related, he has the same blonde hair, blue eyes, and angelic dimples as I do, so we could pass as biological brothers. Only I’m fifteen times his bodyweight, and it’s all fuckin’ muscle. I love my family, but enough about them. I packed on 150+ lbs of muscle, that day, much to my delight. I was a massive, bulging jock of hugeness. My veins looked like they were going to burst out of my skin as I flexed and growled and cockily displayed my massive size to all those staring in shock at my growth. “Well done, Dylan,” said Doctor Redfern, but he didn’t mind us calling him Uncle Cyrus. “That’s your most impessive growth spurt yet. And on your 18th birthday, too.” Laser scanners built into the gym-cum-lab took my measurements with ease. My fuckin’ gorgeously ballooning muscle-chest, had increased in part thanks to my birthday workout from 103 mind-blowing inches, to 116 inches. I was huge, but it simply wasn’t enough. I growled like the hulk, flexing my muscles harder and harder, my 16-inch cock swelling and hardening with every pose I struck. One of Redfern’s team was there with a vial to collect my precum for analysis, but Uncle Cyrus regularly drank the fluids of his muscle-god progeny, as it kept him feeling young and vital and full of vigor. My dad also took it in capsule form, as it helped him grow back his receding hairline, overcome impotency, and get my step-mum up the duff at 39 with a new half-sibling. I guess I’m a walking Wellbeing Clinic. Back to my growth spurt: “It’s impressive, yeah. But I want more. Much more. Can’t you give me a fuckin’ overdose of that Enerflex, Uncle Cyrus? I really want to grow my muscles bigger than Ronny Fortuna’s. Imagine me outmuscling the biggest Metazenic muscle-giant on planet Earth, actually weighing more than he does, but at only half his height? I’d be fucking amazing!” “You’re amazing already, son,” my dad assured me. I got my amazing good looks from him. Pity the Metazoan stuff from days long gone hadn’t worked on him. Turned out that of the 100 participants, only the gay ones actually produced the exceptional offspring. The reason for this is still being searched for and Redfern is confident he’ll nail it, one day. My dad is gay, but also pansexual, so pretty much anything with a pulse will turn him on, so long as it’s human. He’s very happy with his missus. Of course, all Metazenic bodybuilders like me are engineered to be gay. This was initially introduced to keep our numbers low and not turn the entire human race into massively muscled mega-hunks. Also, the serum only works on the Y-chromosomes, so women aren’t affected. Sorry girls, but all this muscle is for the guys. “You should both start drinking my jizz,” I’d often say to my step-bros. They’d yet to take me up on this, but if they took it in capsule form, like my dad, then what was there to be grossed about? It’d lenghten their lives and improve their overall fitness. I often drink my own, just for fun, and mostly after workouts. I hate wasting protein. In fact, I can’t get enough. I ate 24 chicken breast pizzas at my birthday along with a dozen massively protein-infused muscle shakes. Combined with the workout and the Enerflex, I should have grown more muscle on my birthday. “I’m not about to hand out Enerflex freely, Dylan. It’s hard to produce and slow to quicken. There is a batch in development, but it’ll be a week at least before it’s ready. For now continue to bodybuild as you normally would, by lifting fast and lifting heavy, getting plenty of sleep, and eating plenty of protein-rich foods. You can also try different steroid combinations, but we don’t provide them here. Just stick to trustworthy sources,” Redfern advised, Daniel once got hold of some sinister shit on the dark web that made him grow huge, but it also gave him the worst urinary infection in history, and he spent nine days in hospital. We all learned from that one. “So in a week, can I have a MASSIVE dose? I want to get fuckin’ gigantic, Uncle Cyrus,” and to demonstrate my rampant hunger to bodybuild and bodybuild and bodybuild beyond all sane thought, I exploded into a massive upper body lat-spread flex, puffing out my ribcage and inflating my muscle-boobs until you could barely see my head. I actually got out of breath doing this. Some of the research team got erections and wet stains in their pants, but that was to be expected. My body seemed to grow, but it was only just the muscles flexing with extra blood powered by my increased heart rate and adrenal gland going into overdrive. I soon came bucketloads, which, of course, was collected for study and consumption. I drank some of my own jizz back mixed with a protein shake, then worked out until long after my family had gone home. I spent a lot of time at the Institute, because I was too strong to live at home and was forever breaking things and putting my elbows through the walls and stuff. I could easily lift up the family car and toss it about fifty feet by this stage of my growth. I was even stronger after my growth spurt, so I could probably benchpress a fire truck now. On the night my birthday ended, I lay restless in my modified bed in my modified room at the Institute. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to get bigger. These are the thoughts that ran through my head, chanted as a personal mantra to help me grow... huger and huger and huger... When I go to the gym, I don’t go to hang out, or to be seen, or to socialize. I go for one reason only: to BODYBUILD. This is reason for being. My only reason to exist. I exist solely to bodybuild. I am a bodybuilder. I need to grow my body bigger and stronger. And I will gain more and more freakish muscle as I enhance my BODYBUILDING progress in order to get so much bigger. So while the ‘normals’ of this world are showing off their enhanced pics on Instagram and doing shitty workouts with shitty weights, just for show and to grab more and more followers, THIS huge fucker is BODYBUILDING and BODYBUILDING, and BODY-FUCKING-BUILDING, GRRRRRRRR, bigger than he’s ever been. I AM A BODYBUILDER. AND I AM GOING TO GROW. AND GROW. AND GROW. I am the best built bodybuilder. I am the biggest and densest bodybuilder relative to my height. Gotta bodybuild and do so much more bodybuilding, so I can bodybuild and bodybuild and bodybuild huger than ever I AM A BODYBULDER. Aw fuck yeah!!! Watch me grow huge... into a huge bodybuilder. So huge from bodybuilding to be bodybuilt with the body of a massive bodybuilder. THIS is what bodybuilding is. It’s what it is to be a gigantic bodybuilder. I will bodybuild more. And when it seems like my bodybuilder’s body can’t grow any more, I will do more and more bodybuilding, breaking new ground, bodybuilding and bodybuilding and BODY-FUCKING-BUILDING MORE AND MORE AND GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! But the next week was hell. Because I didn’t gain another pound of muscle. And that pissed me off a great deal.

It's really hard to comment on this without giving anything away but I'm loving all the speculation going on here!

Well you know what they say: There's a very fine line between love and hate. I'm not saying that Woody is going to fall in love with Deano, but it is possible that the dislike they have for each other could turn into the opposite. I think they might end up liking each other to an extent, even if they never really become friends. Maybe they could be the guys that will never be friends but they won't be enemies either.

Found a typo. I believe that was supposed to say "Fuck yeah!"

I know I'm a head case for liking this, but this story pretty fucking AWESOME.

Just so you know, I check your story for updates every day. George

The bass thumped in Jeremy’s head, and he grimaced. He was going to have fun tonight and wouldn’t let a headache get in his way. Work was demanding, and he definitely didn’t get enough sleep, but Austin invited him out and was, well, fun and sexy as hell. It seemed like a good choice for tonight. The lights were hazy and full of dark shades, and made the dancefloor look like one large clump of bumping silhouettes. There were bodies of different heights and sizes, some with style and others like robotic copies of each other. Jeremy’s eyes were drawn to the thick ones, the ones that looked full and powerful. The men danced and their pecs bounced with muscular weight. Two were making out and rubbing their cobbled abs against each other. Jeremy felt his dick harden in his pants as he watched for a few seconds more. Then he turned and leaned against the bar. He shifted his bulge around and straightened out his shirt. Jeremy didn’t look like those guys, but confidence was key. He lifted his eyes and looked around the bar. He toned up a bit since college and his chest modestly stretched his tee. He looked good. He had to tell himself that, otherwise… “’Scuse me, stretch,” he heard a voice yell over the music. A hand tapped his shoulder. Jeremy furrowed his brows in amusement and turned back, “Stretch?” Then, his eyes fell on a scruffy brown haired face with eyes that were both friendly and mischievous. “You know, ‘tall guy.’ Long guy. I make fun of your height, then you make fun of mine,” he smiled. Jeremy couldn’t help but copy him. He grinned and said, “I’m not that tall, you’re just short.” The guy chuckled, “Is that your best work?” His smile was contagious on his handsome face. Sure he was slim, but he stood proudly. “Isaac.” The guy raised his hand to shake, the sleeves of his button down rolled up past his wrists. Jeremy offered his hand in return. “Jeremy.” At that moment, Austin came pushing through the crowd with two drinks in his hands. He had a hard time getting his round shoulders past people without going sideways. He made eye contact with Jeremy and flashed a grin. “A vodka coke for the queen,” he said as he shoved the drink into Jeremy’s free hand, “And who is this?” “This is Isaac. Isaac, Austin,” Jeremy said and released Isaac’s hand. Austin sipped from his straw, “Know each other?” “Just waiting for the bar,” Isaac smiled for a moment, “Nice to meet you both.” “C’mon.” Austin grabbed Jeremy’s hand and pulled him away. The two of them made their way through the crowd. Once they reached a spot Austin seemed to approve of, somewhere smack in the middle of the mob, he turned back around and planted his lips on Jeremy’s. Jeremy felt Austin’s bulbous pecs collide with his own. He returned the kiss and began to wrap an arm around Austin’s wide back. Then Jeremy felt him pull away. “Drink up honey,” he said. He winked and took a chug of his own. Jeremy followed suit and took a couple sips. The carbonation woke him up, but it tasted funky – like cheap vodka and plastic. “I forgot how bad the drinks were here,” Jeremy yelled. Austin leaned in to whisper in his ear, “They’re perfect.” The music shifted. Something with a deeper bass and a frazzled synth. Jeremy felt his body melt into Austin’s and the two danced in sync. Jeremy could feel the tingling excitement in his pants spread throughout his body, sending sparks to all his nerves. Their lips locked together once more, and the heat radiated between them. Jeremy could feel it, in every bone and every muscle. The fabric against his skin took his breath away. “What did you give me?” Jeremy was so close to Austin, and only had the faintest sense of concern. “Ride it, sexy. Ride it. You’re welcome.” “Austin…” The music pumped vibrations that surged through Jeremy. His tingling skin was tight, everywhere. With each pulse the warm blood in his veins filled his muscle fibers. In moments, every limb of his body was swelling larger. His jeans tightened around his thighs and bubbling butt. The hem of his tee came up as his chest and back grew in different directions. His arms and shoulders filled his sleeves and stretched the fabric apart. Austin growled, his hand on Jeremy’s back feeling the rising muscle. “Oh my fucking god,” Jeremy gasped. “I told you. You’re welcome.” “What the fuck?” The power rising in Jeremy’s body turned shades of red. He suddenly got his hands in between himself and Austin and pushed him away. He felt his shirt strain at every movement. It felt good. “Calm down baby. We’re not the only ones,” Austin inched closer to Jeremy as Jeremy scanned the room around him. Everywhere there were men sticking their heads up to the ceiling, like they were orgasming gallons of cum. All of them were pumped with muscle. Jeremy’s eyes lowered to his pecs. He was pumped with muscle too. “Yeah, baby. Look at you.” Austin reached his arms back around Jeremy. “This is fucked.” Jeremy turned and left Austin standing there with the strobe lights and music blaring. End of Part 1

Dios toto va a matarlo con lo grande que es jaja

- Chapter 5 - Meet The New Size Day after day, I eagerly await Charles to come home from work. Hoping to see the fruit of my labour, but I wasn't very lucky. His shift was moved around quite often due to the school holidays – the cafe anticipated a higher traffic from the parents, as they bring their children for activities around town. Charles would text me and let me know that he won't be coming back early as he will head to the gym after the daily closing. I would then adjourned to bed, disappointed. Like clockwork, I would do a quick workout in the morning and head to work, being very mindful that I won't wake up my roommate. I'm unsure why myself, but I'm usually surged with abundance of energy through the day, like a persistent buzz in my head. I tend to get hungry very quickly too, but that's probably to sustain the energy level, I suppose. Maybe it's the morning cup of joe for all I care. Who knows? It doesn't bother me as much anyway, or so I want to believe as so. It was not until a good 2 months later when Charles call me up for lunch and invited me over to where he works, that I got to actually see him in person after such a long time. To be really honest, I was thrilled when I saw the text from Charles (totally an understatement). It was like an exclusive invitation to an opening premier and I got the best front seat. Without wasting a single second, I left my office at 12.30pm sharp and took a train to the station near where we stay. The whole journey was filled with my wildest imagination – how would Charles look like now? What would he be wearing? How would he be affected to the series of subliminal messages that I almost forgot that I've played for the past weeks? As I approach the cafe, I peek through the window but couldn't see a familiar face like Charles' working at the counter. Instead, there was a tall, huge man tinkering with the coffee machine, who I thought it was a mechanic from the coffee machine company. I walked over to the counter in search of my missing roommate and catch a familiar burn scar on the man's left hand. And god, I was so, so wrong. "Charles?" My face did nothing to conceal my surprised look when he turned over to look at me. He stood up straight, presumably reaching the mark of 6'2". What caught my eyes immediately was his pecs, stretching the seams of his t-shirt to its seams (I'm obviously a pecs guy). His wide shoulders are distinctive boulders now, connected to a pair of muscly arms that bulge at all the right places. And I haven't even gotten to the vascularity of his musculature, which is clearly in display on his forearms and his bull neck. With the lack of visual information on other parts of his body, my hyperactive imagination pretty much did the rest, with gratitude. Judging from the choice of pants, he's probably wearing a jockstrap and packing a huge asset inside with his now significantly wider stance. This moment probably span across a short 30 seconds, but it felt like forever to me. I'm out of words and out of breath – this is beyond what I think possible. With minimal prep required, he looks like he's ready to compete for the Classics. "Hey, Shawn! Glad you could make it!" he walked out from the counter as he removes his apron. The bulging muscles are restricting his movements, yet he manages to remove it in one swift movement. I'm barely able to move as he gave me a huge hug – at the moment, I thought I was hallucinating, this can't be real. However, I feel his body emanating heat, I can hear his heartbeat and most importantly, I can feel the rippling muscles bulge underneath his clothes. THIS. MUST. BE. REAL. ""Shawn?" I hear Charles call out to me again. I must have been staring for way too long, letting my gaze lingers just a tad too long at both his downward pointing nipples on his enormous pec shelves. I need to say something, ANYTHING. "Fuck, Charles." was all that came out from my mouth. Charles was clearly taken aback from the response. He chuckles and looks at me with an inquisitive look. "When did you get so big?" he laughed even louder now and his voice seems to be an octave lower, or more, than what I remembered. "You mean this?" he did a double biceps pose and I watch as both biceps rise to an impossible peak – I almost felt sorry for the sleeves. "I've been working on them all these while, what are you talking about?" he gestures me to a table nearby and asks me to sit down for a meal together. Trust me, I'm trying my very best to maintain my composure and this proves to be the hardest thing I've ever done with my life (pun totally intended). As we sit down, the chairs creeks under both our weight – have I been eating way too much recently? I shrugged the thought off and immediately put my attention back to the muscle beast in front of me. His stubble is really growing on me and his eyes are piercing blue now, as though able to see right through me and my every thought. For the very first time, I felt intimidated by my roommate – Charles and I can't help but wonder why he would ask me to see him here at where he works.

(Continued from part 2) “Well what do you want?” Coach Tyler roared, his eyes sizing me up hungrily. He was an immensely built bodybuilder that towered over me, with godlike features that looked as if they were sculpted from marble. He was roughly 34, with a head of wavy brown hair and an almost adonis-like stubbled face which commanded respect with its stern appearance. I responded with a quiet and hesitant stammer, entranced by the pure slabs of muscle that bulged and strained against his black tank top. “I was just c-curious if I could b-b-borrow... some clothes.” His face racked with suspicion, Coach Tyler asked “what do you need MY clothes for?” He scoffed with amusement. “They’d be much too big for you.” I nodded my head shakily. “I know, sir. But my friend Anthony... umm... lost all his clothes, and he’s your size.” I felt myself craving Coach’s thick cock, its veiny outline snaking down to his knees, cradled by his snug sweatpants. My eyes followed the girthy monster’s throbbing curve down to its massive head with a ravenous gaze. Coach must’ve noticed my lustful eyes getting lost in the length of his cock, because his expression of annoyance slowly changed to one of smug satisfaction. “I think I have what you’re looking for in here,” he said, gesturing toward the door to the gym storage room. I entered, Coach following in behind and shutting the door. The room was slightly bigger than a supply closet, with shelves of jerseys, wrestling uniforms, gym shorts, and jock straps surrounding me on each wall. Turning to face Coach, my athletically perky pecs brushing up against his huge stony abs, I asked “Now if you don’t mind, where are the clothes I can borrow?” He looked down at me with a smile, placing his large hands on my broadly muscled shoulders. “You have to earn them first.” He removed his tank top, displaying his mountainous crests of muscle that burst forth from his torso. Then suddenly a strange sensation came over me. I began to feel warm and compliant, as if a wave of calm obedience had washed over my entire body. I wanted Coach. I needed Coach’s meaty dick inside of me, filling me with delicious gooey cum. I instantly fell to my knees and started nuzzling Coach’s package over his sweatpants, tracing out the entire 16 inches with my tongue. I grabbed the waistband of his pants and slowly pulled them down to the floor, revealing a pair of struggling white briefs that were weighed significantly down by the heavy giant that clung tightly to the elastic. I yanked Coach’s underwear off next, freeing his beastly cock, which swung heavily below his knees, his plump, melon-sized balls swinging along with it. Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I guided the horse cock into my throat. I felt Coach’s hand grab my hair and pull my head up and down the length of his enormous, juicy dick. It was the thickest and longest cock I had ever sucked, and yet it was still soft. I gagged with erotic delight as he forced it repeatedly down my throat. Then, Coach pulled my head up, allowing his huge drool-soaked monster to fall back between his legs. “Time to turn around boy,” he ordered with a grin. “Yes daddy!” I replied breathlessly, beginning to remove my shirt. Before I could do so, Coach grabbed my shirt by the collar and ripped it cleanly off my torso, revealing the muscular swimsuit model body I had borrowed from Anthony. He immediately managed to tear off both my shorts and boxer-briefs as well, and just like that, I was butt-naked, my floppy 10-inch dick slowly beginning to harden. I seductively bent over as Coach placed his monstrous wet schlong between my firm cheeks, gently teasing it over my round candy ass. The playful frottage was making my cock to leak a warm stream of precum. Without warning, Coach slammed his meat deep inside me, causing every muscle in my body to tense up, my mouth to fall wide open, and my every last vein to bulge under the surface of my skin. Grunting and groaning, he pounded me roughly with his meat-monster again and again. He grabbed my jockboy body with his powerful hands and slammed me into his gigantic cock. It was reaching impossibly far into me, as the feeling of pleasure was infinitely increasing. “Ohhhhhh, fuuck daddy! Yessss!” I moaned as I lost complete control. I cummed over and over again, having orgasm after orgasm, until it reached the point where I could not stop cumming. I was experiencing what felt like a million simultaneous orgasms, the result of which was one constant flood of cum. It felt amazing, so incredibly amazing, that I just wanted him to fuck me until my asshole was destroyed. Then Coach’s humongous cock exploded with sticky warm cum, filling every single crevice in my body with the substance. I could feel his cum in my belly, in my chest, in my legs and arms, and I could even taste in in my mouth. His cum became my cum, as it flowed from his dick, through my body, and then out of my dick with the force of a hose, painting the storage room walls with the oozing clear juice. Something was very special about Coach Tyler’s cum. I could feel it inside of me, mixing with the serum I drank yesterday to form a new substance that was changing me somehow. I looked at my body, and everything appeared normal. I still had the same sexy musclepup body, with my popping chest and my washboard eight-pack. I was still hung as a horse with my long fat cock swaying between my legs, but I knew that something felt... different. I was more confident, more sure of myself, I felt sexier. I was an alpha wolf, a muscle king, a god of male beauty, and I deserved to be treated as such. I picked myself up from the floor, observing my cum-covered muscles glisten in the dim light of the storage room. I used some of the cum to smooth my hair back, looked up at Coach, and asked “So can I borrow some clothes now?” “Looks like you’re gonna need double the clothes,” he said with a gruff chuckle, pointing at my ripped shirt, shorts, and boxer briefs. “Don’t worry about me,” I said confidently. I grabbed a red one-piece wrestling uniform off a nearby shelf, and slid my hunky legs in first, followed by my shredded torso and and broadly-muscled chest. My cock bulged beautifully against the smooth lycra, which left no detail up to the imagination. “Anyway, I need an outfit of yours for my friend.” Coach laughed arrogantly. “I don’t keep any other clothes here at school,” he said huskily, “and anyway, I could give a shit about your friend. Clothes are expensive. I’m not just gonna hand over one of my outfits for free.” At that moment, Jason Tyler burst into the room, and, seeing his father standing naked in front of me, shouted “Dad! What the fuck are you doing!” Jason stomped over to stand between us and looked at his father with embarrassed horror, spluttering and stammering but not saying a full word. “Stop that, Jason,” Coach Tyler bellowed angrily, “you’re only making a fool of yourself.” The two began to argue heatedly, and I took my chance. I grabbed Coach’s clothes from the floor and bolted out the door of the storage room. “HEY! WAIT!” I heard Coach boom from behind me, but he was unable to follow, since it would’ve meant charging naked through the building. As I headed for the locker room exit, my entire body brimmed with a suave energy, and I began to notice that everyone in the men’s locker room had turned their eyes to look at my outstanding physique. Every guy, no matter how straight, feasted their gaze upon my perfect muscular body and my large bouncy bulge. Coach must’ve had some sort of allurement power that he transferred to me unknowingly, because all of the locker room jocks got boners when they saw my sagging cock through the wrestling uniform. As I walked back to my dorm with Coach’s clothes under my left arm, every guy I passed stared with arousal at my firm plump ass, and I looked back with a sexy grin in response. When I returned to the dorm room, I knocked on the door, and Anthony’s cute face peeked out with caution. “Adrian? Thank god you’re here! I’ve probably missed so many classes!” I stepped inside to find Anthony’s hunky, naked body waiting for me. Only he wasn’t the muscle giant he had been that morning, he had returned to his original twunk body. In other words, Anthony and I now had exactly the same amount of muscle, we were the same height, and we both had soft 10-inch dicks. “What happened?” I asked, looking him up and down, and dropping the Coach’s clothes on the ground. “What do you mean?” he asked confusedly. “You shrunk!” I explained. Anthony looked at his body with an expression of realization. “Holy shit! You’re right! I didn’t even notice because I was napping all day!” “How did this happen?” I pondered, “What did you do before your nap?” “Well...” Anthony began with a pained expression of embarrassment, “my new hot muscles just made me so horny that I had to jerk off, so I stroked my dick like five times before I got too tired to continue.” “You must’ve cummed out all the serum that was inside you, which made you lose the muscle,” I explained. “I didn’t lose my muscle because-” Suddenly Anthony began to caress and feel my muscles, sliding his hands over the lycra wrestling uniform. “I’m sorry,” Anthony said, squeezing my bulging cock with one hand while feeling my pecs with the other, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I just have an uncontrollable urge to worship you.” “I know what’s come over you,” I responded, stripping off the wrestling uniform. “It’s a little gift that Coach left for me.” “I love it,” Anthony said, and he grabbed me by my cock and pulled me down on top of him on the bed. I fucked him deep into the night, and then we fell asleep cuddling. We went on our first date the next day, but it didn’t matter because we had already fallen in love. The End Epilogue: Coach Tyler was probably arrested for exposing himself to a student. PS: Sorry I have to end this series so soon, I have a boyfriend now, so I have less time to do this. Goodbye for now!

Close Encounters with Joshua Banks - Chapter II It had already been three days since my encounter with Joshua, but I just couldn’t get him out of my head. Every night I had dreamt of licking his humongous 19 inch arms, all of my jerk off sessions had been fueled by images of me caressing his body, my afternoons spent by the window, waiting for the muscle god to leave his home. Sadly he never did. It seemed almost as if he had disappeared after our encounter, but then I heard a knock at the door. Standing at my doorstep was, no surprise there, Joshua in a brand new but very tight shirt and a pair of shorts. “I know it’s really rude of me to be barging in like this and asking you for favors the whole time, but I really need a ride to the gym. It’s chest day and the weights I have at home just aren’t heavy enough for me. Usually my dad drives me but he’s on vacation with my mo,” Joshua said. He played the innocent friendly neighbor who needed some help but at this point I knew exactly what he wanted and I wasn’t about to object to it. I drove him to our local gym which was about 7 miles away from our street and as empty as a graveyard. It was old, the weights were rusty and other than they guy by the counter, there wasn’t a single soul in the entire gym. For most people the gym’s horrible appearance was a big reason why they didn’t go there but Joshua didn’t care. All he needed were big, heavy weights and the gym and those in excess. For his workout, Joshua asked me to be his towel boy. My job was to basically dry him off in between sets and pass him water. Today was his chest day so I knew I was in for a treat. I just had no clue how big that treat would be yet. Watching him workout was mesmerizing. It was almost godly the way he seamlessly pushed those immense weights up and down, his muscles slowly contracting and expanding. I had no frame of reference when it came to the weights he was lifting but whatever he was lifting, it barely seemed humanly possible. Feeling his ballooning muscles in between sets while pretending to dry him off was like touching a walking Greek god. By the time he had finished his work out, his clothes were barley containing his hulking physique. Luckily his shirt didn’t stay on long as he followed his final set with a mouthwatering side-chest pose which made his shirt split down the middle. “MEASURE THIS BEAST,” he growled as he hit another double biceps. It wasn’t even arm day but his almost volleyball sized biceps and grown by almost 4 inches since I last measured them, measuring in at 22.5 inches. I couldn’t help but foolishly attempt to wrap my hands around them, to no avail of course. Then came his freshly pumped, melon like two pecs. They were beet red and heaved up and down. I had problems wrapping the tape measure around them because Joshua’s back was just too wide. His chest was a staggering 59 inches. Joshua flexed his pecs and let out the manliest and deepest growl I had ever heard in my life upon hearing that number. The last thing we had to measure was his weight and while I was aware that he had packed on a considerable amount of weight, all muscle of course, I still was shocked at the number that flashed on the scale. He had “only” been 200 pounds a few days ago, but now he was 240 pounds. That’s 40 pounds of rock hard muscle in less than four days. I couldn’t believe it and Joshua saw in my eyes that I was confused. “You don’t believe that this is a 240 pound body?” he began while bouncing his pecs. “Well let me prove it to you.” He grabbed a 250 pound barbell, more than his weight, and curled it for reps as if it were nothing. And then after he was done showing off, he proceeded to BEND the barbell with his bare hands. He looked like a wild animal or a brute as he gritted his teeth and tensed every single muscle in his body in order to bend the barbell in half. “One day I’ll be able to break that shit in half as if it were cardboard,” he said as he dropped the deformed barbell to the ground. I just stood there in awe, pre-cum already dripping from my pants, watching his ripped back rippling as he walked towards the showers. To think that we were the same species, let alone age. The words “GET IN HERE” ripped me out of my trance. My mind immediately began to race with the endless possibilities and reasons he could want me in that shower with him. No matter how hard I tried, I could not think of any non-sexual reason he would ask for me to go in and I began to shake with excitement. Once I reached the door to the shower I took two deep breaths and then slowly pushed it open. “What are you waiting for? Get in here,” his deep voice commanded. “Wish I could do it myself but I am just too big to soap my own back.” “Erm…,” I stuttered as I watched the beauty that was his naked body stand underneath the shower. He was facing away from me so I had the opportunity to appreciate his gorgeous and incredibly muscled butt. I had watched more than my fair share of porn but none of the asses online where as great as his. He extended his arm and passed me the soap upon which I began to roam his inhumane back. I made sure to go over every single muscle and crevice. After I was done I took a step back in order to come down from the muscle induced high I was on. At this point my pants where already dripping in pre. “You didn’t soap everything,” he said as he flexed his butt. For a second I was shocked at what he was asking me to do but then I remembered the way he had been acting and the hints he had been dropping and I rushed to grab his ass. At first I was scared that it would be going too far but then I decided to just go for it and put my hand between his two ass cheeks, pretending to soap them. They immediately turned from two warm and soft pieces of flesh to two rock hard slabs. I winced a little in pain which made him laugh as he let my hand go. “You know,” he began. “It’s becoming increasingly hard to clean my armpits on my own too.” I did not need to be told twice and rushed to his hairy armpits. The smell of intoxicatingly hot and manly must filled my nose as he put his arm behind his head, exposing his armpit and flexing his over 22 inch arm. As I washed his armpit, I couldn’t help but move over to his beautiful bicep multiple times and catch a few feels. It did not take long until I felt something pressing against my leg. And didn’t seem short but I mustered up all my strength and managed not to look down. I moved over to his other arm to repeat my wash/worship ritual which only caused him to become even harder. Then something that could only be explained as a miracle of God occurred. The soap bar slipped out of my hands, right in front of his feet. I got down to pick it up but as I was getting up he lost his control. He couldn’t take the wait anymore. He grabbed the back of my head and using what I imagine is only a tiny fraction of his strength, he shoved his dick into my mouth. “SUCK THIS MOTHERFUCKER. 10 FUCKING INCHES OF MUSCLE MAN DICK,” he boomed. The past times we had talked he had always been so polite but now as he stood in his all his naked and pumped up glory he let out his inner beast and to be honest, with that body there wasn’t a single person on the planet he had to be polite to. I wasn’t an expert dick sucker by any means so being confronted with such a large tool was a challenge but I learned to adapt to it fairly quickly. Sadly for me it did not take long for him to start cumming and boy did he CUM. At first I tried to swallow it but it was so much and he just shot it so fast that I ended up pulling his dick out of my mouth mid-ejaculation. This led to him getting some cum on me, the floor and himself. “Oh God, now I’ll have to shower again,” he playfully complained. I had a better idea and began licking the come off his teaming hot body. My tongue traveled from his globe-like pecs to his unbelievable hard and sexy 8 pack. “Now I’ll leave you to take care of that,” he said while walking towards the door and pointing at my still very wet and still very hard dick. Before he left the shower, he turned around, did a magnificent double bicep pose and flashed me the most beautiful smile that mankind had ever witnessed.

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