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Hey all, this is the first story I've actually bothered to see finished in a long time. It's been difficult writing, lately, and I don't expect this to be as well-received as some of my previous stories. But, I'm just happy to have finally finished something! So, let me know what you think. I hope it's at least somewhat enjoyable. OH! Also, this is a college story. No one is under 18. And of course it's entirely fictional, based on no real person or place. _______________________________________________________ He stood in front of us, visibly upset, breathing heavily, his chest and shoulders rising with his deep breaths. "You all think you're so smart, huh?" he said, the venom clear in his voice. "Well, maybe one day you'll see that not everyone is born to be your victim. Not everyone will take your shit lying down." "Dude, calm down, it was a joke," one of my friends said. And it really was just a joke, at his expense, of course, but a joke nevertheless. They... or I should say technically we just made fun of his thin size. Oh and we made several comments about him having a small dick. He really did have a small dick, though. Several of us had seen him naked in the shower. But this is what dudes do! We make fun of each other, give each other shit. We did to him nothing that we haven't done to each other. I was honestly confused why he was taking it so personally. Maybe he was far more insecure than he let on? "It's only a--ughh--joke if what you're saying isn't--rnnngg--true!" He had his hands clenched into fists, arms arched a bit, still breathing heavily. "But you know what? You'll see I'm a grower not a shower. Watch this." And then, to our uncomfortable horror, he put his hand on his crotch and began rubbing it. I say "horror," when really it was just one of those really weird and awkward situations where you have no clue what to do with yourself. Do you respond? Try to diffuse the situation? Look away? Walk away? My own mind was a tangled mess of nothingness. I felt the urge to look away but my eyes remained fixed on him, particularly his crotch where we could all see him rubbing himself with an intensity we're all surely familiar with. I mean, we all jerk off, no doubt. But here he was doing it in front of us. "Dude we've seen you hard, too. You're not that big then either so--" "Sam, dude, shut the fuck up!" I snapped. Apparently he was too dense to realize this wasn't a time to be an asshole. "Let him talk shit, it's okay. Mmmmyeahhhh..." I looked back at him and his crotch had a definite tent there. He was wrapping his hand around it and squeezing and rubbing it, and he looked like he was enjoying it. I felt myself starting to get a little hard, too. "Ready? Mmmm yeah... Watch." I noticed that none of us had turned away, averted our eyes, or anything. As uncomfortable of a situation this was, it seemed that we were all more curious about what he was trying to prove than anything else. But I'll admit I was enjoying watching him jerk off, even though he was still fully clothed. Something about it was enticing. I suddenly wondered, though... what was it that made him get hard? It almost seemed as though he willed it to happen. But then he took his hand away from his crotch and just stood there, eyes closed, head tilted back a little. He had a little grin on his face, and I suppose he truly was enjoying this, whatever it was. But then I looked back at his crotch, and his tent was super prominent. There was no mistaking he was hard. Wait... yeah, he was definitely clearly hard, but... why was I able to tell that? We all were a bunch of douchebags and pointed out how small he was. We've seen his hard dick. It would barely create a bump in his shorts. Now it's a prominent tent. "I see Jake's figured out what's happening," he said, thrusting his chin at me. "Uhhh..." I gulped. "We're... mere seconds away from seeing indecent exposure?" I tried to say it sarcastically, but I suddenly realized I was super nervous. Why was I nervous? I really ought to be repulsed by watching a dude make himself get a boner and partially jerk himself off. He flexed his dick and I couldn't believe what I saw. The tent bulged out farther. I heard some of the other guys gasp and a single "What the fuck..." Now I definitely was nervous. "Ohhhh yeah..." he moaned slightly, his hand moving toward his tent. But then he jerked it away, as though he's trying to restrain his impulse to touch himself. I guess we all know, as dudes, how it is, to want to jerk off when you're hard. "Fuck yes!" he suddenly cried. "It's happening! Are you guys watching?" We were all definitely watching. I think at first we were all sort of annoyed with his seemingly whiny outburst, but now we can all see there's a lot more to this than just whining. I think he may have wanted any excuse to do this, to be honest. "Mmmmm fuck," he moaned again, and we all watched the tent push out farther, and I heard a slight groan. It was his fucking shorts! His tent had grown so much, he was finally straining the front of his shorts! "Here we go... Unnnghhhh!" He clenched his fists, and... "POP!" A large, thick cock popped out of the front of his shorts. At first only the head was visible, but the cloth of the shorts receded and his dick became more and more exposed. He was pretty fucking big, now. He took his hand and pulled at the front of his shorts so more of his dick would be visible. He flexed it again, and yes, it grew even bigger, right before our eyes. "FUCK yes! Still think I'm tiny now?" And even as he said those words, his cock was ever so slightly still growing, and I realized I was staring at it intently. Protruding from the front of his shorts was his hard, throbbing, growing bigger dick. What the hell was happening? No one responded to his question. Did he actually want an answer? "Well?" I guess he did. "N-no, you're not t-tiny," I managed to squeak out. Why did I answer? Why? "What's with the stuttering?" he grinned. "I wouldn't think such a weak, small-dicked 'baby' would make you nervous, Jake." I cringed. He was using my own words. I'd actually called him that one time. It was forever ago, and he remembered. "I'm not... n-nervous..." I couldn't stop stuttering. But why was I nervous? I mean, yeah, this is very off-putting. But he just proved he's definitely a grower. So what if he has a bigger dick than we all thought? He probably took some Viagra and just had to prove us all wrong about his dick. He was still a skinny, weak dude. He simply laughed. "Well, whatever dude, I don't care." He looked down at his own dick for a few moments and flexed it again, and it bounced a bit and grew some more. FUCK! "Ohhhh yeah, it's coming. Are you watching? I can feel it." Some of us looked at each other, and I'm guessing we all were thinking 'what the fuck does he mean?' He wasn't about to cum, was he? He reached his hands down and started to stroke his big throbbing veiny dick. Yes, he needed both hands to cover it. He was lovingly rubbing his dick, back and forward his hands went, slowly. "Unnngghhh" he moaned. His movements were hypnotic, and I couldn't avert my eyes as I watched a dude jerk himself off. I suddenly realized I was harder than steel, myself. "It's happening. Ohhh yeahhhhhh..." he closed his eyes, moaning, and we all finally saw what he meant. What was happening. His entire body was growing. At first I thought I was imagining it, or maybe he was rising up on his toes, but he was definitely getting taller. Slowly but surely. His hands never stopped moving, and he continued growing taller, and he'd grown maybe three or four inches in height before I realized something else. His chest had begun to push out. "Holy sh--" I involuntarily spoke in a hushed voice, stopping myself just before getting the entire word out, not that it mattered since there was no hiding what was going to be said. "Yeah, just watch," he said. His arms had some veins snaking around them now, and I could see his forearms thickening, too. He was growing muscles! FUCK! How was this happening? My dick throbbed in my shorts, and I was immediately brought to realization that I was genuinely enjoying the show. Still growing taller, his arms thickening, his chest pushing out, I also noticed his calves were bulging, too. And his dick was still growing! His shoulders had begun to broaden as well, and I suddenly realized his shirts was getting tighter and tighter, and it was at this point I finally noticed his biceps. They were wrapped in the cloth of his t-shirt, when before the sleeves were loose with plenty of space to spare. "Fuck yeah, keep--unghh--watching..." he said, as he continued to stroke himself, his hands wrapped tightly around his throbbing rod. I watched as those sleeves got tighter and tighter, his arms growing with each stroke of his now huge dick. His traps were rising up, too, and soon that shirt was painted on his body, and he looked like he practically lived in the campus gym. "Oh fuck, fuck... fuck..." his stroking was becoming more rapid, speeding up, and so was his growth. It was like the faster he stroked his dick, the faster he grew. I glanced down and saw his calves were now fucking enormous, bulging out, making it clear he never skipped leg day. Wait, can I even say that? But then more groaning sounds came from his shorts, and I realized his quads and hamstrings had been growing, too. His shorts were tightly wrapped around his muscled legs, and thanks to his new height, we could even see the heads of his quads right above his knees. "Here it--unghh gunnnghhh-- oh it's coming!" His stroking was fevered and wild now, full-on jerking off. His shirt was so tight I couldn't believe it was still holding on. "It's coming!! I'M CUMING!" And he did cum. Oh did he cum. We could literally hear the first burst of cum shoot from his huge dick. It hit my friend David right in the face. "RIIIIIIIIIP!" His shirt finally tore down the middle, his heaving pecs protruding from the tattered cloth, and his biceps ripped the sleeves, a rend going all the way up to his cannon-ball shoulders. "POP! POP!" His legs exploded out of his shorts, each leg ripping up to his belt. More cum was still shooting from his dick, his muscles throbbing as he shot each blast of cum. He was deliberately aiming for us with his cum, hitting not just David before, but two of my other friends as well. Actually, he somehow missed me entirely, but got everyone else. And then his dick was simply dribbling cum, still very hard, though. Cum was dripping down his shaft, onto the hand still holding his dick, and dripping onto the grass. "You like that? HUH?!" He had a wild, somewhat evil grin on his face. "Who's fucking small and weak, now?!" His free hand not holding his dick rose into the air and flexed into a mind-shattering bicep peak, his shirt ripping further, all the way up to his collar until "SNAP!" it too ripped off, leaving the entire one side of his shirt to fall into tattered cloth dangling from what was left on the other side. And then came his other arm, finally releasing his dick, still semi-hard and staying aloft on its own, rising into the air and flexing into yet another huge bicep peak, destroying what was left of his sleeves on that side. His entire shirt fell, revealing what none of us could see to this point. A perfect set of 8-pack abs. Clenching and unclenching with his breaths, washboard enough to actually literally wash clothes on. "WHO'S FUCKING SMALL AND WEAK NOW?!" he asked again, and I guess he was looking for a real answer. It wasn't until now that I finally realized he was towering over us, too. He had a good foot of height over me, at least, and I know I was taller than most of my other friends. He was sure as fuck stronger than any one of us, now, too. Probably stronger than all of us put together. He started to walk towards us, his still semi-hard dick bouncing with his steps, and with each step, more small rips could be heard from his shorts as they struggled to hold on. "What? Y'ALL SUDDENLY GOT NOTHING TO SAY?!" "W-w-we are...?" David actually managed to respond, and I saw he was literally shaking. Was I shaking, too? I couldn't even find my own thoughts, much less feel my own body. "IS THAT A FUCKING QUESTION?!" He reached down and picked David up by the front of his shirt and tossed him across the grass a good ten to fifteen feet. David quickly scrambled to his feet and ran, clearly not caring in what direction since his dorm was in another direction. "GET. THE FUCK. OUT. OF HERE!!" he shouted to the rest of us, and I didn't need to be told twice. I was somehow surprised I'd managed to stick around this long. "OHHhh no, where the fuck do you think you're going?!" he half shouted, grabbing me by the front of my shirt and lifting me off the ground like David, his bulging biceps flexing into gigantic relief from his massive arm. I closed my eyes, bracing myself, prepared to be tossed away. "You're fucking retarded, you know that?" he said, still holding me in the air. I opened an eye, only one eye, and saw his scowling face looking up into mine. Was this another question he wanted answered? How could I fucking know? "Such an asshole," he continued, "Can't see what's in front of you. I've been in love with you for ages now, and you're so concerned with keeping appearances you've never let yourself realize you're fucking gay." He reached out with his other hand and grabbed my crotch which was, yes, still hard, and leaking, too, apparently. "So now what do I do with you?" he asked. I honestly had no clue how to answer that question, even if I could muster the strength to.

Twenty Nine “Is that your t-shirt?” Deano asks me with his face screwed up as I pull my Johnny Bravo t-shirt over my head in the changing room of the gym. We’ve just finished a pretty brutal leg workout. Today’s the day we also film our posing practice videos for the joint assignment we’re doing. Something, I have to admit, I’m mildly excited about. Even if it does mean having to spend more time with twat faced Deano. “Umm ... yeah?” I reply, looking down at the t-shirt I called the “best birthday pressie ever” on my Instagram the weekend before last. Deano pulls a face. “Looks like something Henderson would wear!” I bite my lip to try and cover up my smirk. “Doesn’t suit you!” he says matter-of-factly, shaking his head. I roll my eyes and sigh as I take my backpack out of my locker, making a decision to try not to let Deano get to me today. I’m not even going to mention the fact he called Luke a “joke” last week. Partly because I’m still not convinced that he actually believed that. “Did you check the uni’s Facebook page this morning?” he asks me as we make our way out of the gym. We’ve already decided that we're going to film our videos for the assignment back in my dorm room. One good thing about the whole thing is that it won’t require much talking. Thank fuck! “Nah. I hardly ever check that!” “They posted the names of who’s competing at the show!” he tells me. The way he says it, it’s almost smug. Like he thinks he’s got one up on me because he knows something that I don't. Jesus. He tells me the names of the first years who’ll be competing in our class with us. Eight guys in total. And I can’t deny that I’m now feeling slightly smug myself. Because judging from those names, Johnny’s prediction that me and Deano are looking at top five placings seems pretty accurate. Fuck it - we may even both end up in the top three, although there’s no chance of either of us taking the first place trophy home with Brazilian monster Eric Mafra in the line up. “You’re not gonna be a twat for the posing video and shout out “YEAH!” every time you hit a pose are you?” Deano says to me. HA! I smirk and shrug. “Hmmm. Maybe just the most muscular?” He rolls his eyes. “Johnny will be really impressed with THAT!” he says, sarcastically. I laugh. “Are you joking?! Have you never seen videos of Johnny Hoxton in his competition days? He was, like, one of THE cockiest and most animated bodybuilders of his era!” Deano pulls a face. “Probably why he likes you so much!” “I can’t help it if I’m Dumbledore’s favourite!” He shakes his head. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Henderson!” I smirk and feel a flutter in my chest at the mention of Luke. Too much time spent with my cute little Hufflepuff? Not fucking possible! “Where IS Henderson?” Deano asks me once we're in my dorm room. “I’m not his mum!” Just his boyfriend! Although, technically that hasn’t been confirmed yet. I can’t imagine Luke would have any arguments with it though. Wait - do I have a boyfriend? Fuck! My heart suddenly seems like it’s blowing up in my chest. And I’m finding it really hard not to fucking smile right now. “So … who’s going first?” Deano asks, clutching the handle of his backpack. He suddenly seems a little awkward, which is not how he was the last time he was in my room. I shrug. “You can if you want!” He nods and puts his backpack down on the floor. I sit on my bed and watch as Deano takes his black Montgomery University hoodie off. I can’t help smirking at the absurdity and surrealness of this situation. Never did I expect to be sitting on my bed watching Deano strip to his posing trunks just a foot or so away from me. He peels his white vest off and suddenly Deano’s bare torso is right in front of me. His wonky shaped abs etched on to and protruding slightly from his stomach (my bet is that he’ll have a full on turtle roid tummy when he’s older) and his thick slab-like pecs and big boulder-like shoulders on full display. I’ve seen that torso dozens of times before. Every Monday in Posing Practice 101, in fact. But I’ve never been this close up to it. Staring at it head on. It’s so surreal to see an actual bodybuilder (sorry, Luke!) in my dorm room. For some reason, I have this weird feeling in my stomach. I'm so fucking impressed with Deano's physique. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He still looks a little awkward. Perhaps more than that. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but he even seems a little bit nervous. I pick up my phone and load up the camera app to take my eyes off him, instead of just sitting there watching him (which I imagine is probably not helping with his nerves). But something catches my eyes when Deano’s pulling down his trackies. And now I can’t help but just look. “What?!” Deano says, looking uncomfortable and confused. “Are those … velvet posing trunks?” “Yeah?” he says, defensively with his face screwed up. I widen my eyes and pull a face. “They’re better than those shiny posers you always wear!” he scoffs. Ha! And now I’m smiling. I can’t fucking help it. “They’re really, really not!” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. And now he’s just standing in front of me in his hideous maroon red velvet posers while his thick, freshly pumped muscle bulges off his short-arsed, pocket rocket frame with this expectant look on his face. “Come on then!” he orders, impatiently. “Alright! Jeez. I was just admiring the view!” I say, smirking and going back to my phone. He pulls a face, suddenly looking even more awkward. I press record on my phone and hold it up, looking at the annoyingly impressive pocket sized muscle mass standing in front of me through the camera. God - he really does look uncomfortable just standing there in front of me in his trunks. Which I’m obviously not getting a kick out of what so-fucking-ever. “Okay, Deano - give me a front double bicep!” Deano lifts his arms up with this focused look on his face, then he puffs out his chipmunk cheeks and releases a huffing sound as his thick biceps explode either side of his head and WOW - I have to say, I’m so fucking impressed with the size of them. He’s holding the pose with determination, still blowing out his cheeks, flexing his guns with everything he’s got right now and oh God - I’m starting to fucking swell under my trackies and posing trunks. Which (I admit) feels (eurgh!) a little weird and slightly wrong. But I mean, come on. A stacked bodybuilder is posing right in fucking front of me in nothing but trunks. It would be weirder if I didn’t get a hard on. Even if that stacked bodybuilder is Deano twat faced Watkins and those very trunks happened to be made of fucking velvet. “And relax,” I instruct, to which Deano obeys and stops flexing. “Front lat spread!” I say, feeling an odd flutter of excitement. Deano obeys and hits the pose, his pecs lifting up, his thick lats expanding out and his torso taking on an awesome V shape. I look at his impressive quad sweeps and my stomach twinges at the same time my cock judders. And as I instruct Deano to hit a side chest pose and I’m suddenly staring at his huge flexed biceps (wow!) and his thick pecs which are popping off his frame (fuck!) my hard on swells to full size. God - if Deano notices I’m hard I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do. Surely he wouldn’t actually point it out? Wait - what am I thinking? This is Deano! Of course he fucking would. I can imagine it now. “Woody - have you got a fucking WOODY? Maaaate!” But I seem to be safe. For the moment at least. Because Deano’s just staring right into the camera. “Turn around. Back lat spread!” I instruct. Fuck. Why does my voice suddenly sound nervous? Deano spins around and I rearrange my trackies and lift a leg up on the bed to hide my fucking hard on. And now I’m looking at his impressively wide back and that big round bubble butt and I can’t help but smirk as I think of my lovely Luke, and how much he’d probably actually love to be in my position right now. Maybe I’ll tease him about it later. Though I’m not sure I’ll be confessing to the fact that I got a hard on watching Deano pose. Even if I highly suspect that the exact same thing would be happening to Luke if he were in my position right now. Deano's back looks crazy when he hits a lat spread. As do his powerful boulder-like shoulders and his super pumped guns when he gives me a back double bicep. “Turn back round to face the camera!” I instruct. Deano spins around and FUCK - my heart jumps into my throat when (for the first time) his eyes briefly veer down to my crotch. Shit, shit, shit! Okay - he’s just looking at the fact I’ve now got one leg up on the bed. Surely he can't see that I've got a hard on? His expression isn’t giving anything away. He just looks purely focused on the task of posing. Which, I have to admit, he’s pretty fucking good at. He might be an annoying, piss taking twat most of the time but there's no denying that Dean Watkins makes for one hell of a bodybuilder. And for the first time ever, I’m actually thinking that’s it’s kind of a shame we don’t get on. “Okay, give me an abs and thighs!” I say, looking straight into my phone. Deano takes a breath, still with that focused expression on his face, throws his arms behind his head and then crunches down into an awesome abs and thighs, his cheeks puffing out, his thick, wonky shaped abs crunching and fuuuuck - he looks insane! My dick judders in response. “And your final pose. Any most muscular of your choice!” I say into the camera, my stomach twisting with nerves (actual nerves). Deano puts his fists together, and with a (rather hot!) huffing noise, squeezes out a most muscular. His shoulders look bigger than ever before. His triceps pop. His arms look crazy as the balls of pumped bicep muscle explode underneath his thin skin. Jesus! And now I feel a sharp panic. Because Deano’s almost finished posing. Which means it’s my turn next. But I’m still sat here with a massive fucking hard on! “And relax!” I say. But Deano ignores me. Because now he’s lifting his arms and elbows up and before I have time to think, his face is screwing up as he (finally!) shows a bit of attitude and he’s cranking down into the craziest crab most muscular. And (low and behold) he even lets out a tiny grunt as he hits the peak of the pose. Traps erupting. Shoulders popping. Deano shaped, pocket rocket, future 212 class competing muscle exploding right before my bloody eyes. Fucking HELL. He relaxes from the pose, his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. “Awesome!” I say, my cock still fully erect (fuck). “Thanks!” he says, catching his breath. And now I’m smiling. I can’t help it! Because I just complimented Deano and he just thanked me for it. What the fuck is going on? “What?” he asks me, furrowing his eyebrows. I shrug and pull a face. And now he looks uncomfortable again. Even slightly nervous. And now there’s this weird atmosphere all of a sudden. Deano turns and reaches into his backpack and I see an opportunity. I slide off my bed and rush to my en suite bathroom. “Back in a sec!” I call. I lock the bathroom door and look down at the hard on ridiculously tenting my trackies. “Fuck!” I whisper. And then I let out a little laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation I’m in right now. Hiding in my bathroom from Deano Watkins to try and get rid of the stonking erection he’s just given me. Oh God. I’ve got a fucking WOODY over Deano. Maaaate! What would Luke think if he saw me right now? Oh shit. What WOULD he think? Surely he’d get why I was turned on? A bodybuilder just flexed and posed while huffing, puffing and (even fucking) grunting in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of posing trunks. I’d get hard no matter who that bodybuilder was. Deano. Shaun. Tommy fucking Foster. Okay, I probably would have creamed in my posers if it had been Tommy fucking Foster I’d been watching. And I’m sure Luke would too. Maybe he’d laugh about it. Even take the piss out of me for it. Or maybe (and now my stomach’s clenching) he’d be pissed off about it. Get paranoid and self conscious and jealous. Fuck. And now, thinking about the possibility of Luke being upset over this, I’m finally losing my erection. Thank GOD for that. And now it’s gone, I’m kind of embarrassed with myself. I take a deep breathe and go back out to my room. Deano’s now sitting on my bed with his phone in his hands, still wearing nothing but his velvet (eeeew!) posers. His huge shoulders still on display. His thick pecs still out. The atmosphere from earlier seems to have eased a little. But things still feel a bit weird. Deano’s being oddly quiet as he sits messing with his phone. And now I’m feeling strangely nervous as I take my Johnny Bravo t-shirt off and start stripping down to my posers. And as I pull down my trackies to reveal the shiny ruby red material of the trunks (which I’m guessing he thoroughly disapproves of) I'm wearing, I notice Deano glancing up at me from his phone. “Ready?” I say, standing in front of him. Deano gives me a little nod, messes with his phone and holds it up in front of him. Why is he being so quiet? “Wait!” I say. I do a quick little flex as if imitating a most muscular. “YEAH!” I say in a cocky manner. “Just practising!” I say, with a smirk. And now Deano’s shaking his head but he’s smirking back. He’s actually fucking smirking! HA! And then I notice something on my red posers. A fucking wet spot from when I was hard earlier. Jesus! There’s no way Deano would notice that. Is there? And again - I’m smiling at the fucking absurdity of that predicament I find myself in. “Front double bicep!” Deano calls. Okay - time to get into professional bodybuilder mode. And I do. I lift my arms up and hit the pose, feeling the crazy pump in my biceps. Man - this feels good. And suddenly I’m not thinking about what happened earlier when it was Deano’s turn. I don’t make any noise, or show any kind of attitude. But when Deano asks for a front lat spread, I can’t help letting out a little grunt as I pull up the straps of my shiny red posing trunks and hit the peak of the pose. Pecs jumping up. Lats expanding out. OOOOF! I half expect Deano to be rolling his eyes. But he’s not. He’s just looking pensively into the camera. Almost like he’s quietly impressed. Just like I was when I was sitting on my bed watching him pose. I ease off on the attitude for my next few poses. My side chest and rear poses are all grunt free. I’m as focused and professional as Deano was, while enjoying flexing my pumped muscles and posing for an audience as I always do. Perhaps even more so. Because I can’t deny that I’m secretly getting a kick out of the fact that said audience is Deano. “Turn to face the camera,” he instructs when I’ve finished my back double bicep. I spin around and Deano’s just looking into the camera. A serious, slightly weird look on his face. It’s like he’s kind of in awe of my muscles? Even a little hypnotised. Something twists in my stomach. “Abs and thighs,” he says, his voice kind of distant and strange. I hit the pose Deano matter-of-factly told me was my best when he was here in my bedroom last week. I puff out my cheeks (Deano Watkins style) and release an audible huff as I blow out and crunch down. I look down to see my big abs popping (definitely hotter than Deano’s) and my shiny red bulge sticking out and I twist my thighs to show my audience of one the definition and lines peeking through my quads. God yeah! “And any most muscular,” Deano instructs, his voice quieter than I’ve ever fucking heard it as he continues to just stare into the camera with that odd look on his face. I didn’t even know Deano could do quiet? And something suddenly hits me. Maybe he’s having a moment of self doubt. Maybe watching me pose and seeing how impressive my physique is, he’s suddenly thinking, “Shit! How am I supposed to compete with that on Saturday?” Even though our physiques are completely different. Even though Deano actually stands a good chance of placing higher than me at the show. Surely he knows how good he is? I don’t fuck about with my final pose. I lift my arms and elbows up, animatedly scrunch up my face and blast down into a mass exploding most muscular. I’m not really feeling a, “YEAH!” would be appropriate right now, so I just let out a deep, cocky grunt instead. I squeeze and squeeze and then release another grunt as I relax. And now it’s all over. But now there’s this weird sort of atmosphere in the room. I put my hands on my hips to catch my breath, looking at my training partner. He drops his phone, still looking into the screen with that strange, serious expression on his face. I’m standing over him, still in just my posers. And Deano’s not looking up at me. It’s almost like he’s making a point not to look at me. “Well?” I say to him, feeling strangely nervous. He finally looks up and Oh my God - he looks SO nervous. And so very un-Deano like. What is going on? “How did it look?” I say nodding at the camera. Deano shrugs, awkwardly. “Yeah. Fine!” “What’s up with you?” He screws up his face. “Nothing!” But his expression, everything about him says differently. “You’re being really weird!” He pulls another face. “You’re being weird!” he says, awkwardly, but he doesn’t look at me. “Oh-kaaay!” I say, sitting down on my bed next to Deano and still catching my breath. And now Deano looks really fucking awkward. What the hell?! I look at him as he messes with his phone. His huge shoulders right there. Thick pecs still out. I can feel a sort of heat coming off his body. And the atmosphere is even more weird and tense than before. “Can I … see the vid?” I ask him, nervously. Why am I nervous, for fuck’s sake?! He hands the phone in my direction, and his hand is fucking shaking. And then he looks up at me again and my stomach clenches when I see his expression. I’ve never seen Deano looking so serious. Or so fucking nervous. I go to take the phone, but it doesn't budge, because Deano's gripping on to it tight. I try again, my hand on one end of the phone, his on the other, but he's not letting go of it. What the fuck is he doing? “Deano!" I cry. He finally loosens his grip on the phone. And now I’m just staring at him, completely fucking baffled. And Deano’s staring back. That weird fucking look on his face. So nervous. So serious. And now ... oh FUCK ... his face is lunging towards mine and I don’t have time to think or move and I feel like I’ve slipped into another fucking world because … oh ... my … fucking … GOD … Deano Watkins, the guy who’s spent the past few weeks annoying the hell out of me and trying to make my life difficult, now has his lips pressed against mine. Deano Watkins, my twat faced arch rival nemesis, is fucking KISSING me.

Chapter 3 I walked into the club around 9 PM and it was already packed. Scanning around I saw that there were some very impressive costumes and even more impressive bodies in attendance. I made my way around the club doing my best to keep a low profile which was made easier by the black cape I was wearing draping over my shoulders in extremely low lighting. I ran into a few of the friends I planned to meet and spent some time chatting with them, many of whom were highly complementary of my costume and then shocked and extremely complementary when I showed them what was under the cape. They all wanted me to stick around, and got extremely handsy which I deeply appreciated but I told them that I still needed to make the rounds and see who else was there. It didn’t take me long to find out where my prey was stationed as there was a large group congregating away from anything that should have caused a crowd like the stage or the bar. Sure enough, even though they were surrounded by 30 or so guys all crowding together to get a look, I could easily make out the now Herculean form of Hugh at the center. If my transformation over the last couple hours was impressive, Hugh was truly otherworldly. Earlier today, he was maybe 210 lbs., now, he looked to be at least 60 lbs. heavier. He was hands down the biggest guy in the place right now, and I knew it was only going to increase. I made my way closer so that I could try to hear as much as possible. “Flex for us man!” “Let’s see those arms!” “Can I feel?” “Yeah me too man, gotta feel those huge arms!” Over and over came the requests and adulation from the crowd. It was easy to see the effect it was having on him, and Hugh was happy to show off by going through various poses but he always denied anyone from touching him making sure to let everyone know that Lee was there and was his boyfriend. A couple times someone was brave and grabbed onto Hugh without asking and his hand was immediately slapped away but it was getting harder and harder to stop all the advances. I made my way over to the bar to get a drink and as it was delivered, I heard Lee’s voice next to mine placing an order. “Oh! Hey Lee! Didn’t expect to see you here! Was this the party you guys were talking about earlier at the gym?” I asked in mock surprise. “James! Wow I didn’t recognize you! Nice costume!” This caused a little flare of anger as I wore the same costume last year with him to a party. Obviously, it wasn’t as memorable of a night for you as it was for me... “Yeah feel a bit bad at using the same costume two years in a row but didn’t really plan on coming here tonight until last minute.” I took a sip of my drink before continuing “Looks like Hugh’s popular!” I nodded in the direction of the still expanding crowd. Lee looked back over his shoulder at his monolithic boyfriend dressed up as the Hulk and looking every bit the part still surrounded by an even larger crowd than moments ago and looked even more conflicted than earlier. “Yeah ever since we arrived, he’s been mobbed by people. Everyone wants to cop a feel.” His tone was evidently filled with annoyance and a touch of jealousy. “It’s weird though.” “What’s weird? Seems to me that when you get to that size everyone wants to feel you. Despite the possibility of getting green paint all over. Perfect strangers stop to ask you to flex for them. Especially in a place like this. He should be proud.” “That’s just it though.” Lee said and for a moment he looked panicked. “He just got to that size, yet he doesn’t seem to notice or be bothered by it.” “Why would he be bothered by it? And what do you mean he ‘just’ got to that size? He’s been working hard for it for years so he shouldn’t be. You don’t really notice the progress in yourself unless you compare pics...” Lee cut me off here. “That’s not what I mean.” Now he looked desperate to share something though it was agonizing him. “I know this is going to sound crazy, and I don’t know why it’s freaking me out as it’s a dream come true but he’s literally blown up about 50 pounds in just a few hours!” “What?” I asked him looking incredulous. “Oh, ha ha... very funny Lee. Nice try at a Halloween joke. Just because Hugh is dressed up and colored to look like the Hulk-” “I’m not kidding!” Lee said getting more and more worked up. “Ever since the gym it’s been like he’s constantly growing! During the workout I thought it was just the pump, but then in the locker room... I mean I’ve always fantasied about muscle growth like this, you know that, but it’s really happening and he doesn’t seem to notice, or at least doesn’t care and it’s freaking me out! I begged him not to come to this thing tonight until we figure out what’s going on, probably take him to the hospital but he kept insisting on coming.” “Well can you blame him? He looks great and he’s worked for years to get to this point.” “Except he hasn’t!” Lee said looking angry now. “I mean yes, he has worked out for years, but this growth all happened in a few hours, not years!” “What are you talking about? Ever since I’ve known him, he’s been the biggest guy I know, well one of them. Just worked extra hard over the last year is all. I told you that when you guys were moved in together that your growth would really take off.” “What?” Lee looked at me like I had three heads now. “You know he wasn’t this big at the gym earlier today.” “Sure he was! Take a look at his Instagram, you’ll see.” I took another sip of my drink while watching Lee pull out his phone and pull up the Instagram app. It took a few seconds for him to unlock the phone, open the app and find the profile but when he did, he almost dropped the phone. “That’s not...” Lee was staring at the picture from just a few hours ago and couldn’t take it in. There was Hugh looking almost exactly as he was now minus the green body paint. Massive, thick, a true roided out meathead. There was even an updated caption about breaking the 300 lb. barrier just in time to play the Hulk for the party tonight. “No that’s not possible.” Lee said and backed out of the picture to look at others on his boyfriends' profile. Each one showed Hugh nearly as huge as he now appeared. All the exact same shots as before, but now he was blown up to the cartooned, steroid laced, hulked out monster he appeared in the club. “You okay Lee? I think you should sit down.” He looked like he was about to fall over. Lee sat down on a stool and put his head into his hands clearly confused. “I don’t get it... he didn’t look like this before today, I swear it.” Lee said not really talking to me anymore but more to himself. “His progress has been remarkable but I told you when you broke up with me that even I couldn’t blame you for getting together with a guy his size. We both have the same muscle fetish so even though I was hurt I understood. Hugh is a beast and he’s only going to get bigger! That’s what you always wanted right?” Lee looked unable to speak now. He took the drink that the bartender had long since deposited in front of him and slammed it down in one go. “Doesn’t make sense... he wasn’t... I-” Lee was rambling now, not even really paying attention to me. I indicated to the bartender to bring another round for Lee and it appeared about a minute later. “Look Lee, don’t overthink it. Just enjoy it! You’re with the biggest and most desired guy in the place right now, you should be proud and thrilled about that. I’m going to go make the rounds but I’ll see you later hmm?” I patted him on the shoulder and waited a second before turning and making my way through the crowd. I found a few more friends dotted around the club that I chatted with for a bit before we all decided to hit the dance floor. I danced for a while, awkwardly due to my new size and getting quite a bit more attention after I shucked the cape and guys could get a better view of my arms bulging through the sleeves. That attention increased more when the fabric finally gave up trying to hold in my arms during all my dancing and I started ripping the sleeves. Finally, I put my plan into action and tore off the sleeves at the shoulder and finally allowed all the thirsty boys nearby to get a good look at my ripped, veiny, powerful arms (as much as possible in the strobing and laser filled club lighting). The effect was almost instantaneous. I had a dozen guys suddenly shift their way closer to me in order to rub up against me. I felt hands running up and down each arm plus a few along other areas of my body and it was definitely causing a powerful reaction in my pants. It didn’t take long after that for a hand or two (or twelve) to make their way to my cock or ass and rubbing through the obscenely tight leggings followed by a rotation of guys pressing their hungry asses up against it. “Who are you supposed to be anyway?” A guy yelled into my ear over the thumping of the house music. “The Buff Bandit” I said with a wink, a double bicep flex then kept on dancing. I had been telling people I was Robin Hood as it was a quicker answer but I’d thought of myself as the Buff Bandit since I pulled out the costume. “Well you definitely stole my heart.” I heard the reply and couldn’t help but laugh. It was a cute yet cheesy attempt at a pickup line and I knew he was desperate for some one on one attention but it wasn’t my focus tonight. After a few more dances, I finally decided it was time to go all out and started to pull the shirt off over my head. Mostly this was due to the fact that I could tell I was about to rip the shirt in more than just the arms and I was positively roasting now and it was drenched in sweat. I hadn’t really noticed it while dancing but now I took a second to focus, I could feel that I was bigger still. My shoulders were wider and causing further tears in the shirt, my pecs and lats had already made their marks with tears along their seams and I knew with one good, long, intense most muscular, my back would flare out enough to rip the back of the shirt to ribbons. I tried to pull it off over my head, but it was quickly made apparent that it wasn’t going to survive so I just started hulking out of it. The feeling was so much better than I could have ever dreamed! And I’d dreamed about this a lot over the years! Feeling my muscles swell, harden and stretch the fabric tight... tighter... TIGHTER before feeling it finally split was beyond words. The relief of having the freedom from clothing was nearly orgasmic. That same pressure building within your balls before that explosion is exactly what it felt like bursting from my shirt. Followed by the same post orgasm bliss. Only difference was that after I was done, I was immediately hungry to get bigger and to find another shirt to do it with again! I pulled off the tattered remnants of my shirt and tossed them on the floor. Within seconds I had hands just about everywhere. On my abs, feeling up my pecs, rubbing my shoulders, it was glorious! I’ve never had that kind of attention from even one guy, now I had it from a half dozen. It was a potent drug; one I could easily see getting addicted to! I started flexing for the hungry hands that were caressing my body. Random poses in rapid fire succession. I recognized a few of the guys that were groping me as ones that had been circling vulture-like around Hugh before and scanned around the club to find that he and Lee weren’t anywhere to be found. Suddenly my phone started to vibrate in my pants (no pockets on spandex leggings) and I realized it was my alarm. It was now 11PM so I had one more hour to go before Halloween was over. Immediately pulling myself out of the group of worshippers I had accumulated, with mutual dissatisfaction from both myself and each of them, I made my way out of the club and to my car. It took me quite a while as I had many, many guys trying to get my attention if not my phone number or to get me to go home with them, but I plowed on as I had a strict schedule to keep. Getting into my car I pulled up Instagram and searched quickly for Lee and Hugh’s profiles to check the progress. Sure enough, there was Hugh at a size that was reserved for only the truest of roided freaks. He was 350 pounds if he was one and looked like he could hardly move in most of those shots. The last posting was made by Hugh between one and two hours ago from inside Tric and he was all but bursting out of his costume, what little of it there was left at least. Surrounded by as many of his adoring fan club as was possible to get in the shot with him. Interestingly, there was one person missing from the shot: Lee. I grinned as I started my car and put it into gear. ***** I arrived at my destination about 15 minutes later and made my way up to the 8th floor. Walking down the hall and finding myself in front of a door I’d never visited but knew was the right one, I raised my hand and knocked. There was a few seconds of silence before I could hear footsteps approaching the door and Lee opened it. “James!” he called clearly shocked and then looked up and down the hallway as though expecting someone else. “What are you doing here?” “Thought I’d stop by and check on the progress of things. Mind if I come in?” I pushed my way past Lee not waiting for his reply into the apartment and Lee followed after clearly distraught and confused. “What are you talking about? And how did you know where we lived? I never gave you our address, did I?” “No, you didn’t. You didn’t move until after you cut all communication with me so I never knew where this place was. Just part of the spell, I guess.” As I was talking, I could see Lee scanning my body up and down. Still shirtless from the club and my leggings hanging from me having also burst open during my drive from the growth in my quads and calves. He was barely listening to me as the sight of me looking every bit his wet dream was causing a near overload of his mind. Too much was happening all at once for him to process: Hugh’s unexplainable growth that no one but he seemed to notice, and now the guy he rejected also growing bigger and better looking than ever... better than he possibly could in such a short time... but then his brain came back to focus at the word “spell”. “Spell?” Lee repeated looking deeply confused but also scared now. “What spell?” “The one I cast on you both this afternoon at the gym.” I folded my arms across my chest, or at least I attempted to as best I could but my new size was making the normally easy task a challenge. “Guess I’m not quite used to this new muscle mass yet.” I said giving Lee a sly look. “This part of the spell at least made sense. Truthfully that’s what I expected to happen all along when I cast it. That I would slowly syphon off size from Hugh making me bigger than he was. But seems like whatever power is behind this had other plans, and I must say, I’m enjoying them.” I felt a weird tingling on my face, chest, forearms, back and legs. Not unpleasant but certainly foreign. I looked down at my protruding chest to see hair sprouting and thickening the pelt I already had. Unfolding my arms, I raised them up to see the same effect on them as well. Unable to see my back I turned around so that it was shown to Lee and he could watch it fill in and darken. While I was turned, I heard him give a low, almost imperceptible moan. I grinned broadly at this sound remembering just how much of a fan he was of really hairy guys, or at least really hairy really muscular guys. I’m becoming his ultimate fantasy guy I thought as I turned back around to face Lee. There was a blood curdling scream that came from what I assumed was the bedroom. Lee’s eyes went wide and he darted for it while I casually strolled in after him eager to see the fruits of the spell’s labor. Lying in the middle of a queen size bed was a truly grotesque sight. Hugh was now well over 400 lbs., but it wasn’t the attractive sort of size that I know they were both imagining. This wasn’t a roided out, moderately conditioned, morphed up size that they expected. Instead there was a misshapen blob of muscle that was covered in deep red and purple stretch marks, several of which were just now starting to be dotted with drops of blood. Hugh’s body looked to be comprised more of tumors than muscle. “Holding up better than I would have thought.” I remarked as I entered the room and closed the door. You could practically hear Hugh growing. An eerie sound of shifting tissue and creaking bedframe as more and more mass was being magically added into Hugh’s body. “Please help James.” Lee called frantically as he tried to comfort Hugh who was clearly in agony. “I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t know what to do! I called 911 and thought that’s who was at the door instead of you.” “Oh, they won’t show up.” I said nonchalantly at this. “What? Yes they will, they told me they were on their way when I called.” “But did you call?” I said still standing there with my arms crossed looking smug. “Check your phone.” Lee looked at me but seemed incapable of finding words. Instead he pulled his phone out and checked the log. “But... I called... I KNOW I CALLED!” He yelled as he frantically scrolled up and down not finding any record of the outbound call in his phone. I couldn’t help but laugh now. “Yes, you did call, but it was erased. Shame too as I bet that dispatcher would have been telling the story of your call for years. Some guy going on and on about his boyfriend growing more and more muscular almost out of control. Sounds like a drug addict on a really bad trip doesn’t it? And on Halloween night to boot, that’s when all the crazies come out you know and they get no end of prank calls.” I laughed some more at the look on Lee’s face. “But the spell took care of that so no, they aren’t actually coming. It’s just the three of us, for now. Just like how despite Hugh’s blood curdling screams none of your neighbors have called the cops. Guessing either your room slash apartment is magically soundproofed or they’re just made oblivious to the noise. Similarly, the modified pictures on Hugh’s Instagram feed to make you question your sense of reality and history. Unexpected that the spell caused you to feel gaslighted just like how the two of you made me feel. Disorienting not feeling like you can trust your own thoughts or emotions isn’t it Lee? Yes, that twist was truly unexpected.” “I don’t understand...” Lee said now completely overwhelmed by what was going on. “No, I don’t expect you would. Let me break it down for you: I received a very special gift a few days ago that promised to be the means to restore balance in my life. Balance from what you two caused. That gift was a spell designed to teach you that to get what you want, there is always a cost. You’ve seen Full Metal Alchemist Lee; I know you understand the Law of Equivalent Exchange. I cast the spell on you at the gym this afternoon and it seems that the main outcome was to cause Hugh to grow into the sort of massive muscle freak you both fantasized about. Truth be told, I was not thrilled to see you both gaining even more of what you wanted from something designed to bring balance to me. However, what became clearer as time passed was not the only effect of the spell. The problem when fantasy becomes reality, it doesn’t always match up like we hope. You wanted to grow more muscular, bigger than anyone else in the world, but you didn’t factor in all the consequences to that choice, specifically that you only wanted muscle to grow, not the skin that contains it. Nor the fact that it’s putting extreme strain on his heart trying to supply enough blood to those impossibly large muscles, or any number of other biological factors that are now grossly out of whack.” “Please make it stop!” Lee suddenly yelled at me, pleading with eyes popping in pure horror at what I had told him. “Please James, I’m sorry for what we did to you but please make this stop, you’re hurting him!” “You’re not sorry for what you did, you’re sorry you got caught, or more accurately sorry that you now have to pay for it. You thought you could simply ignore a problem you caused until it goes away but that’s not the case here. The longer you ignored this, the more it built up. I told you, I’m not doing anything. This is all your doing. The combined will of both of you. I provided the engine; you provided the fuel. You’re the ones that have been fanning the flame since. I bet after the gym the two of you got really hot and heavy, didn’t you? Bet that was some of the best sex you’ve ever had right?” Lee was stunned speechless here. I could see the memories of what happened after they left the gym playing behind his eyes. That in the heat of the moment, despite everything his rational mind was telling him, his lust for Hugh and what was happening to him was too powerful to ignore. I felt a wave of warmth and energy fill me and knew I was expanding just a bit more in that moment. Moaning deeply in pleasure as I felt my muscles pulse and swell bigger. Refining would be a better word to describe what was happening as I could feel the skin tighten around my muscles while the last vestiges of fat melted away. If I was ripped before, I was in peak contest condition now. Almost simultaneously, and conversely, Hugh gave out a series of painful moans and yells as his body also continued to expand and swell causing more and deeper stretch marks to appear on his skin. Every move he made, even the simple act of breathing was causing the skin to stretch then tear more and more. The reflex of tensing up against the pain was only causing it to worsen. We were like mirror opposites in these last minutes of Halloween. I was feeling nothing but bliss and pleasure at my transformation while Hugh was feeling nothing but pain and anguish from his. An equal yet opposite reaction. Keeping the scales balanced I thought. I could see the look on Lee’s face as his eyes darted back and forth between me and Hugh. Trapt between lust and horror, worried for Hugh, angry with me for causing this but also desiring me as his ultimate fantasy man. “I thought so.” Finally speaking to bringing back the conversation after I felt the pulse of growth subside. “Bet you couldn’t keep your hands off him, even in the car ride home. Then, when you got behind closed doors, it was carnal. How could it not be? One of your deepest and most powerful long-time fantasies was happening to you for real and your body was overpowering whatever thoughts you may have had against it. Hindbrain vs forebrain. Instinct vs rationality. You dove in, uncaring of the later consequences and fully wanting to revel in the joy of the moment. You’ve never been one for the long game Lee. You’ve always only seen and cared for the short-term gains, the instant gratification. You didn’t want to see it’s often better to sacrifice in the short term to gain something far better in the long term. I desperately tried to teach you this, but you ignored me.” I took a few deep breaths to calm myself as I felt anger flaring in me as I spoke. “Even if I wanted to stop this, I couldn’t.” I told Lee as he looked at me with tears streaming down his face. “This is all your doing, all your consequences. Besides,” I started to say before I leaned back against the doorframe with a smirk across my face “I really don’t want to stop it. I want you to feel some of the pain I’ve endured. I want you both to feel like you’re being torn apart, and that you’re helpless to do anything just like I had to. This is my long-term payoff for suffering for months while you two ran off willfully denying what you’d done. You both took the treat, now you must take the trick. That’s the rule of Halloween.” “You monster! You’re killing him!” Lee screamed and lunged at me pinning me to the wall. “Stop this now or I swear I’ll...” “You’ll what? Kill me too? I don’t think soooooooo.” I flexed my arms against his hands as I felt a growth surge fill me to loosen his grip and emphasize my power before I raised my arms easily breaking free of his grasp. “See I’m a lot bigger and stronger than you now” Hugh and I both groaned again as I felt myself swell just a bit bigger saying this. “Fuck that feels so good! Plus, I know you don’t have it in you to kill me. I know you better than you want to believe I doooooooo.” I moaned deeply feeling my muscles tense and flex almost involuntarily as they surged even bigger. My vascularity and definition were almost beyond human at this point. I could feel my back widen against the wall as I was leaning against it, but also thicken pushing me further away from it. “Besides” I started to say as I stood up flaring my back as wide as I could watching Lee’s eyes widen in time with my expansion “this may or may not actually kill him. That part is out of my hands. The spell is meant to restore balance. To return to you what you caused to me. You both came close to killing me but didn’t, so odds are this will bring him close to death but he’ll survive. Though in what condition is anybody's guess.” I glanced over to the side table and saw it was now 10 minutes to midnight. Suddenly Hugh was screaming again but even louder than before with my bellow of equal pleasure. Obviously, things were picking up speed and the spell was going out with a bang, possibly literally. I could see Hugh tensing in reflex to the pain, trying to protect himself but only making it hurt more while I was flexing to emphasize the feeling of expansion and pleasure. Larger and larger he expanded in all directions but it was uneven, twitching and pulsing awkwardly and independently while mine was fluid, graceful, almost poetic. You could see pound after pound being added to his already monstrous form even though that form clearly couldn’t take it. Soon the stretch marks were bleeding in earnest and he looked more grotesque by the moment. “Please stop it. Please make it stop!” Lee was on his knees in front of me begging now. “I’ll do anything just please make it stop!” I looked down at him as best I could over my massive hairy pecs. The sight of him on his knees before me caused an immense surge of pleasure through me and focused on my cock. I could feel it swell and expand outward easily brushing aside the dangling remains of my tights that only adhered to my waist at this point. Every ounce of me was craving to be worshipped by him, to dominate him, to fuck him and make him submit to me. I wanted to show him what he lost out on by rejecting me, that I was now beyond “good enough” as I was approaching perfection. But I refrained. I held back because he no longer deserved me. He made his choice and there was no going back. “It will all be over at midnight.” I told him through pants of pleasure and nodded at the clock. I noticed that my voice had deepened. Not a drastic amount, I certainly wasn’t James Earl Jones, but I could tell I dropped a couple notches. “Only 10 little minutes more and the magic will fade. Just like Cinderella.” I heard Hugh give a scream of agony and looked over to see the skin had finally split and raw muscle was clearly visible in patches across Hugh’s body. At the same time, I moaned deeply as I felt my skin shrink wrap around me to a perfect tautness. I could tell it was clearing up too; all blemishes, spots, scars and issues were removed until my skin was flawless. Lee ran out of the room and came back seconds later with several towels to try and mop up and stop the blood that was flowing freely from Hugh’s body. Angry veins were continuing to pump blood in torrents due to Hugh’s heart working as fast as possible both from to the increased demand of his freakish size and the adrenaline surge that was triggered by his intense fear response. His brain was telling him “fight or flight” though he was paralyzed by his size and immobility from doing either. The minutes ticked by and Hugh’s screams built almost as fast as his ever-expanding body. 500 lbs. came and went, and soon 600 was within sight. The lacerations in his skin grew longer and wider. More and more muscle, sinew, tendons and ligaments were showing now. Pushing through the torn skin with the need for more space unrestrained. Soon other sounds of tearing and even some cracking sounds were heard as muscle was ripped from bone causing it to splinter and be crushed under the weight and strength of his inhumanely disproportioned muscles. I should have been horrified at the sight and sounds but somehow, I was transfixed. Morbid fascination kept me rooted to the spot as Hugh continued to expand beyond the limits of humanity and his own skin. It was if he was being flayed alive by the backfire of his and Lees’ own deepest desires. Simultaneously my own transformation was picking up speed as well but it was as beautiful and pleasurable as Hugh’s was ugly and agonizing. I felt as each muscle slowly expanded and unfolded like a flower in bloom. I started posing and flexing each group I could in the mirror of their bedroom watching as I morphed into one of the most massive and handsome men on the planet. I was over 300 lbs. by now and was creeping ever closer to 350. My arms were easily 24 or 25 inches by now, 2 feet of muscle just on my arms alone! I thought with glee. My chest was just on the verge of being disproportional but I guess that was to make up for my years of feeling it was woefully underdeveloped. I stood back and flared my lats finally (though just barely) pulling off a lat spread that I was proud of. Again, I heard a slight moan come from Lee which made me flex/spread even wider. I moved to a side chest; the one pose I was confident in before my transformation but now looked beyond spectacular. My pecs now pushed out hugely on my already sizable rib cage and my arm was pushing that pec meat even higher as I pulled tight and flexed hard. I could almost hit my chin with my pecs now they were so huge and swollen and pumped! Then I moved on to arms overhead and flexed my abs. This time it was my turn to moan as I watched my midsection finally react when I moved, and what a reaction! Not only did I have an enhanced 8 pack that I saw earlier before Tric, but now I had cobblestone obliques! My V-taper even from my elongated lats while arms were overhead was extreme. I would be shocked in my waist was over 36 inches now and if my chest was anything less than double that. To say that I was turned on at my own reflection would be an understatement. I was ablaze with lust looking at myself! My cock had continued to rise from before and was now standing up through the remnants of my underwear and tights showcasing that I was now the ultimate expression of a man. Having swollen and expanded from my already impressive 8-inch length to well over a foot and maintaining the impossible girth I was known for (soon to be internationally known for), I was also leaking precum in a steady stream down it’s dark red shaft, through the tangled jungle of pubic hair and all over the tights down to the carpet of Lee and Hugh’s bedroom. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard a voice saying you’ve marked your territory here and I couldn’t help but grin deeper. Digging deep to tear myself away from the sight of myself in the mirror, I turned and found Lee looking at me open mouthed while Hugh continued to moan in constant pain at his climaxing transformation. When I finally made eye contact with Lee (he was too busy scanning the front of my body, taking more than a few seconds on my powerful cock, I grinned and bared my teeth almost wolfishly before going into the most muscular to end all most muscular poses. I growled deeply through it while Hugh screamed his loudest and most blood curdling scream yet as we both swelled up to our final forms. Holding the pose for at least 30 seconds I reveled in the feeling of my body swelling up in all directions desperate to milk every precious drop of magic I could into my body. At the same time, Hugh bloated and spasmed up in equal measure passing well beyond 700 pounds quite possibly to 800 given the sounds the bedframe was making. The rips and tears of his skin were now spread out so far that he was approaching some hideous out of control anatomy chart by being able to see more and more of the raw muscle instead of skin. At two minutes to midnight I finally had seen enough; enough of myself, of the conflict in Lee’s mind and body, and of Hugh’s torment at hulking out of his own skin. I turned and made my way back through the apartment to leave. Before I made it to the front door, Lee was calling after me and followed out of the bedroom. “You have to do something. You have to reverse all of this! Put him back! Fix it!” “I don’t have any obligation of the sort.” I said to him calmly hearing that my voice was even deeper now. “As I said, I didn’t do this to him, you did. It was both of your desires and choices that brought this upon you, not mine. Besides, I seem to recall asking you to “do something” and “fix it” when I needed help and you ignored me, why should I have to do what I don’t want in order to make you happy? If you weren't ever required to do anything to make my life better after causing me pain, I shouldn’t have to for you.” I turned and put my hand on the doorknob to leave. “But we didn’t do anything to harm you like this!” He cried at me. “Oh, but you did.” I said just above a whisper with a cold fury in my voice. Barely audible yet I knew he heard every word. “You caused scars equal to this in every way.” I raised up my arms and showed him the scars on my wrists from the repeated attempts to end my own life. Scars that the spell didn’t remove for some reason like it had with every other imperfection on my body. “You did just as much harm to me otherwise this wouldn’t be happening. That’s how the spell works Lee, it causes equal pain to balance out the scales. Just because my wounds weren’t as obvious doesn’t make them any less real or painful. You made choices that harmed me when it wasn’t necessary. When there were alternatives that you could have chosen but instead you both chose to take a path that willfully inflicted more pain and told me that it was up to me to deal with it. Well honey, the shoe is on the other foot now. I did something that made me happy and unfortunately you two now have to deal with it. Difference here is I’m willing to accept the consequences of this and own up to my part in it where you weren’t.” I turned the knob and opened the door. I experienced another feeling of draining at that moment, similar to when I cast the spell on Lee and Hugh at the gym. For a single terrifying second, I thought I was about to change back, but it wasn’t my size that was leaving, it was that the impossible knowledge I had gained over the course of the spell being removed from my mind. The supernatural confidence of what was happening and what would happen left me to be replaced by a small amount of fear and doubt. I pulled my phone from the waistband of my tights; the only part of clothing still adhering to my body and saw the display read midnight. Halloween was officially over. I could still hear Hugh making moans of deep agony in the bedroom so my hunch was right: the spell hadn’t intended to kill him but he was going to be in a lot of pain for a long while. Just like I had been. I breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been killed. “You should be able to call for that ambulance now Lee.” I said putting my phone back in the band. “It’s after midnight so the spell has concluded. Though I’ll be interested to know how you explain his condition to the authorities. Happy Halloween!” I pulled the door closed behind me and walked, well waddled down the hall. “You’re a monster!” Lee had opened the door and shouted at me. I paused for a second and turned around to face him for the last time. “I’m the monster you created.” I put up my arms into what I could only assume was a breathtaking double bicep pose as I tightened my abs, stuck out my leg and flexed my quad to match. I held it for a few seconds to allow him the chance to take it all in before relaxing... well as much as I could relax at this size. “All I did was restore balance. You made me a monster, what does that make you?” I turned around again and continued back down the hall to the elevator and out to my car.

Oh my gosh! You cited one of Brazil's greatest bodybuilders, Mafra. Here he is known as Big Mafra ... thanks for that Big Mafra

Epilogue I found out from other friends several days later that Lee had been put into a psychiatric hospital under observation and was being charged with assault and attempted murder on Hugh. Everyone was worried about how Lee was raving on about Hugh being the victim of some spell or dark magic. Due to that and other evidence at the scene, the police were convinced that he simply had a psychotic break or was on some sort of drugs and attacked Hugh in a jealous rage. Hugh was being treated at a specialized hospital for his injuries and despite their severity, was expected to fully recover. When questioned by police about what happened, Hugh said had no real memory of that night. Whether it was due to the spell, or from the severity of the physical trauma, I never found out. The last he could recall was being fawned over at the party at Tric before Lee begged him to go home. After that it was a blur before waking up in the hospital. The police think that all the attention he was getting was too much for Lee to handle and he just snapped out of a jealous rage. Hugh’s doctors say that it could be his mind blocking out the events as a defense mechanism so they are having him treated by a psychiatrist to assess that possibility. At the very least they were going to have him looked at by a psychiatrist to discuss his extreme body dysmorphia issues and what he had done to himself to attain such impossible to maintain levels of muscle size and development. They couldn’t understand how he had even gotten to the morbidly obese size he was, especially when it was caused by muscle growth and development rather than by fat like most cases. They had him on IV drips of antibiotics as well as fluids and nutrients as he was unable to eat or drink normally while he was bandaged up like a burn victim (or a mummy to continue with the Halloween theme) to prevent any further infections due to that much exposed tissue. In a few weeks to months they expected his muscles to atrophy enough that they could stitch up the wounds. He would have several scars across his body from the ordeal. He would definitely resemble Frankenstein’s Monster now. Good. Balance restored. I plateaued at around 370 lbs. of lean muscle with maybe 2-3% bodyfat when I checked after getting home from Lee and Hugh’s apartment around 1 AM. It was truly unexpected that the spell was going to affect me in an extreme physical way like Hugh but I guess that’s whatever force or entity that was behind this magic considered balance. Given that after midnight I no longer had whatever supernatural knowledge I gained from the initial ritual, I couldn’t say for sure that was part of the spells design. I suppose it could be said that it changed my outside to balance my inside as it’s given me so much more confidence and better self-worth. I’ve had many compliments (many more pickup attempts and being hit on which is new and bizarre for me) but have made several new friends. Most of them were people I met at the gym, many of whom encouraged me to get a coach and finally convinced me to compete in my first ever bodybuilding competition in a couple months which is nerve-wracking and exciting. Scott actually became my official posing coach and while we will be competing against each other, we both are supportive of the other as a team. The amount of press is truly overwhelming as it’s not often you hear of someone who’s over 350 lbs. of muscle and is a virtual unknown in the sport. I’ve been heralded as the newest superstar around the globe and expected to do the unthinkable by winning Mr. Olympia in the same year I qualify for it. I also found that when I next opened the trunk, there was a book inside that was blank except for the first page. “The Book of Shadows” I read aloud and couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Having been a longtime fan of the TV Show Charmed this was funny. However, as I read that first page, I saw something that made things clearer: Shadows are a combination of equal parts light and darkness. A balance of the two. I remembered one line of the spell at that moment: Equal parts of black and white. I turned the page and found that behind it there were tear marks all down the spine where a single page would go. Pulling out the single sheet I’d used the day before, I lined it up within the book and it magically repaired itself and was now attached in the book. Several more pages after that were outlining how I could start my journey into magic that was beyond the scope of Halloween, even though that’s the night of greatest power. But that’s a story for another time. A lot of you may be wondering if I feel guilty about what I did. The truth is, I don’t. I knew what I was doing and while I sometimes question it, I don’t regret it. A lot of you will be crying out that this was about vengeance rather than justice or balance. I could have chosen to ignore that spell. I could have continued working through the pain and trauma like so many do to just “get over it” and move on. But my emotional and physical scars will always be there. I have to carry those just as much as the physical ones that Hugh will have and the emotional ones Lee has. Each of us now has a journey of recovery but at least now we’re all on equal footing. Balanced. Now however I have peace to move forward and new positives to focus on rather than the pain of my past keeping me locked in place. Many of you may judge me for that and call me sick, twisted, evil, or a monster. For a day, in those few hours, I was a monster. That’s exactly what Halloween is for though: a night to let the monsters out. The End

Oh wow, this is simply a twist I didn't see coming, at least not this fast....I love this complication! Another riveting chapter, and now, alas, another period of intense anticipation for the next chapter. Well-played Muscleaddict, well-played.

Hey guys, So I finished a story that's been sitting incomplete on my hard drive for the last couple years. A brief warning: it is dark and a little twisted but as it's meant to have a Halloween theme, it's not unexpected. This story evolved from a series of therapy writings I was doing while in treatment for severe depression and trauma. This story may not be for most so while I will appreciate any feedback, pleas make it constructive. Again, you've been warned this is not a "Happily Ever After" sort of tale... or maybe it could be depending on your point of view. I hope you enjoy and have a Happy Halloween! ***** Chapter 1 Halloween. The one day a year where magic seems much more tangible and attainable. Where anything can happen (and often does) in ways that should be unexplainable and yet are accepted as easily as dream logic. I was never a fan of Halloween, even as a kid. Sure, the free candy was nice, but it ranked just slightly above Valentine’s Day in terms of my enthusiasm because I just didn’t get it. This year, that changed. This year I realized the full scope of Halloween. The ancient power it held and how easy it was to tap into that power. This year, Halloween became my favorite holiday. Let me back things up just a bit for you. Proper introductions are important after all. My name is James and I’m what most people call a “good guy”. At least, that’s what I have heard from seemingly everyone lately. Trouble is though that I don’t seem to be good enough. Okay, maybe I should back things up just a bit more for you. A little over a year ago my first real romantic relationship ended. The guy I had been “seeing” for about 8 months told me that he was officially going to be with someone else. Someone younger than I was. Someone who was more outgoing and fun than I was. Someone that was better built than I was (my ex had as much a muscle fetish as I do, more on that later). Someone that he had been seeing the entire time we had been dating (though he refused to call it dating) and even though he said he still cared for me (downgraded from loved me, which he told me he did less than a month before breaking things off) and wanted to be in my life, he needed to follow his heart. Trouble is, I seriously doubt that his heart had anything to do with the matter, other than supplying enough blood to his dick… Anyway, in the months following the “break up” we had been trying to remain friends. I was trying at least, whereas he seemed to be phoning it in most of the time because, let’s face it, he had someone else to devote his time/life to and no one else really seems to matter in that situation. After a series of setups and disappointments by both of them, their constant playing with my emotions and making me question my sense of reality/history, this culminated in quite a severe mental breakdown: a major case of depression resulting in multiple suicide attempts telling myself I wasn’t good enough to keep living. After being hospitalized and attempting my best at treatment, I wasn’t “getting better” as quickly or in the ways he thought I should. Unfortunately, due to this and his own choices, recently he decided that I was no longer worth his time or trouble and he completely cut ties with me. I’m sure many of you are saying that I should have done that first and a long time ago. That I should have moved on, found someone better, written him off as one of the worst human beings on the planet and been done with it. I had more than one therapist tell me as much, or at least something akin to that fact, as well as many friends/family members tell me that I needed to simply forget about him and move on. If only the heart worked on a system of logic like that. My brain certainly did, and I kept telling myself all the things he had done that were clearly in the “con” column to try and give my own heart enough evidence to stop hurting. Alas, the heart is chaotic and ruled by something far stranger, more complex and far more precious than logic. I loved him. I loved him with all I had and I still do because real, true love is unconditional like that. That was enough in the “pro” column to outweigh anything else I could muster in opposition. Still, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt, betrayed, disappointed, angry, hell furious to the point of nearly feeling homicidal at both of them, but through all of that pain, I still love him. Anyway, slightly off track so let’s get back to the main part of this story. Throughout the last several months I have done my best to try and “get better”. To improve myself and to regain some semblance of normalcy after the trauma and continued hell that I was put through both by myself and the actions of others (not just my ex). Eventually I was able to learn how to put up enough barriers and walls to not feel like a raw nerve all the time and allow myself time to heal a bit, but let’s face it, wounds that pierce that deep never really heal. Eventually, I realized that I wasn’t going to be the person I was before. Too much of me had changed, too much had been irrevocably lost. I could be someone different, maybe even someone better, but I couldn’t ever get back to the place or the person I was either when I was with him or before. So, I did what I could to make myself feel better, to rebuild my life as it were and a large portion of that would next revolve around me rebuilding a “new” body. One of the things I shared with my ex was a desire to become as big and muscular as possible. I’m not talking cute fitness or “beach bodies” but real hulking muscle monsters. Those beasts of brawn at the top of the bodybuilding community where you part crowds like the Red Sea, and where limited range of motion is the goal. To get to the point where there was no doubt that we were serious meat heads and that we had no desire to slow down nor stop growing anytime soon… well ever really. With his encouragement and guidance, I was able to break through the last mental hurdles I had that were stopping me from actively pursuing that goal and started going to the gym. I had been giving myself no end of excuses for years but with him in my life I finally had enough confidence to put them all aside and start on the path of never-ending growth. I paid for a personal trainer, dedicated myself to it and I was fortunate to share the beginning of that journey with him and even though I stumbled with it for a while after our “break up” I have gotten back to it and have continued to grow and develop and improve myself physically which has helped in many ways to improve myself mentally. The only trouble I had though was that I still tie a lot of this muscle growth journey to him. I still recall our workouts together when I’m lifting, the meals we prepped and shared after a long workout, even when I was giving him his weekly injections. All in the pursuit of our mutual growth. I’m still trying to untangle the goals and desires of being massive from including him and have the focus be for me. However, knowing that he left me for someone bigger and better built than I was while initially highly damaging to me, has now provided plenty of motivation for my workouts. I was going to work my ass off to show him what he missed out on. I may not have been good enough before, but I would do whatever it took to outclass the guy he left me for and show them both what real muscle was! At least, that was the plan. Despite the fact that I had done all this work, changed my physique and was in much better shape and condition than I had ever been, I still was considered a “good guy” but not enough for anyone to want to date or be in a relationship with. Sure, I had many who wanted to fuck me, or be fucked by me, a single photo update on my online profile was enough to see that I had improved physically to be more desirable, but the couple of times I had met someone it was just a hormone release to them, or another sexual conquest and then they ghosted me. I was a good enough one-time disposable fuck toy, but not good enough to date. In my mind, it always came back to the voice that I wasn’t “good enough”. I wasn’t big enough, defined enough, handsome enough, so I did my best to focus that negative energy into my workouts. Given my pre-depression mindset of body dysmorphia for wanting to be a juggernaut of muscle and strength, this caused quite the feedback loop of pushing myself like a madman in the gym. Having all that fuel the fire of my workouts has no doubt been a benefit given my progress in the last few months even if it tends to scare off some people at the gym. Several friends I have lifted with commented that when they see the determination and focus on my face during a set, to them it came across as intimidating, aggressive and what one friend lovingly refers to as RBF (Resting Bitch Face). “Hey James, how have you been?” I jump and turn around to see Scott one machine down from me. “Oh, hey Scott, didn’t see you there. I’m good man, how’re you?” Normally I would say that even if I had seen him so as not to come across as a creeper, but I really hadn’t noticed him because when I lift, I am 100% focused on my form and my own body. All my concentration is in my muscles to ensure maximum engagement and results. I don’t scan the gym for whatever eye candy is there and ogle the guys showing off like so many do, despite Scott being seriously delicious eye candy. Plus, today he was in very different gym attire than what I was used to seeing him in (head to toe oversized sweats instead of a tight muscle tee and even tighter shorts that he normally wore) including a cap that obstructed his face so I honestly didn’t recognize it was him. “Not surprised. You’ve got better focus than almost anybody I’ve seen. I bet a riot could erupt and you wouldn’t know until you were done with your set!” “Probably. Came close to that the other day apparently. There was some issue with another member that had to be asked to leave and I had to ask what happened after all was said and done because I was doing a drop set and missed the whole thing! Besides, you look like you’re trying to avoid the paparazzi dressed like that! What’s new with you? Still prepping for that show in February?” Scott had planned and started doing prep three months ago for a show that took place last week but had to back out last minute due to other obligations. Scott had one of the best physiques I’ve ever seen in person coupled with a model level gorgeous face and a really nice, genuine personality. He was honestly as close to my ideal guy as possible which of course meant he was unavailable. Despite that letdown, he has taught me quite a bit about different exercises, plus helped me a bit with how to pose (which is nowhere near as easy as spectators believe). “Oh yeah, that was a bit of a mess I heard. Steph had to threaten to call the cops before he finally left.” “Yep. Which given the fact that I’m sure she could have kicked this guy’s ass by herself was merely a courtesy to him.” Steph was one of the employees at the gym. She is about 5’6 or so but better built and more conditioned than half of the guys who work out here. Couple that with a “take no shit” type of personality and she’s a force to be reckoned with! She will speak her mind even if it’s not in a professional way and is one of the funniest and friendliest people I know. She is not someone I would like to mess with though, even if I have a good 6” in height and 100 or so pounds on her. She’s small but she’s scrappy. “No doubt! I would not want to get on her bad side for sure! And no, not looking to avoid the paparazzi, I’m not that popular. Yeah in the midst of prep for it, hence the sweats. Time to up the cardio and it’s better to do cardio in sweats or heavy clothing as it traps the heat meaning you burn more calories. So how have you been? Haven’t seen you for a while.” Scott and I tended to lift at about the same time every day depending on our work schedules and had developed a rapport. Because I found him so easy to talk to, he inadvertently was one of those people that I had dumped my problems onto without consciously realizing it. The biggest of which happened to be my love life, or lack thereof, and all the things that had happened with Lee (my ex). He was one of the few people who helped keep me accountable and consistently going to the gym to help work through my issues and use the weights to better myself. Even though he was straight (which I found out after asking him out on an impulse, however he was extremely gracious and tactful in his response to my invitation) he was truly a nice guy and always had a nice word for me to help bolster my spirits. “Um, good, I guess. Been a rough few days at work but hanging in there as best I can. Have another ‘anniversary’ coming up which will be a challenge but somehow, I will make it through. And believe me, you’re more popular than you realize! I’ll admit to having the urge to be a paparazzi and sneak a few shots of you from time to time! I haven’t, but the urge is there. You’ve got a killer physique; one you’ve worked really hard developing and one that should be photographed and shown off.” One thing I’ve learned about most “straight” guys who are bodybuilders, if you stroke their ego enough, they tend to overlook the sexual inuendo and subtle flirting. “Ha!” he laughed and looked humble (yet another thing I found so attractive about him) “Maybe at a show, not any other time. But sorry to hear that you’re having a rough time. Well Halloween is coming up so that should help you right? Isn’t Tric doing some big Halloween party? You should get dressed up, go out, get drunk, have some fun. Take your mind off things for a night.” “You would think so right? I do actually have tentative plans with some friends to go to a party, but the anniversary is Halloween. Spent it with my ex last year post break-up to try and see how well we mesh as friends and he was the happiest I have ever seen him. The later it got, the drunker he got and more he went on about how great the other guy was and how happy he was in the relationship. Hard to sit through. Still, all I can do is take things one step at a time which right now means getting back to my workout and not letting a super stud like you distract me from my gains!” I laughed and took a quick sip from my shaker while I waited for his reply. He raised his hands in surrender with a grin forming on his face. “I wouldn’t dream of doing that! I need to get my ass on the stair climber anyway. Have a good workout man and I’ll catch you later!” He shook my hand before turning to leave. “Good luck climbing the Empire State Building!” I called after him grinning. He turned to smile back and then we both returned to our respective workouts. I finished up my chest workout a short while later having fully exhausted myself and burned through all my frustrations caused by my job that day. I managed to catch Scott's eye and wave as I walked out of the gym saying goodbye to the person at the desk. Once outside I patted down and searched in my pockets to find my keys. Realizing they weren’t there and most likely landed in my gym bag, I stopped at the back of my car setting the bag on the trunk to fish them out. Without warning, I was starting to sob digging around my bag. Despite every effort to the contrary, the memories of last Halloween were filling my mind and I was recalling the look of pure exultant joy on the face of the man that I saw my future with knowing he had already chosen another… “Excuse me?” I hear a voice from slightly behind me and turning around I was face to face with a middle-aged woman. Wiping my face quickly I did my best to put on a smile and “brave face”. “Yes?” I asked trying my best to look respectable and courteous despite wanting to run away to be alone. “I’m so sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you might be willing to help me with something. I brought this old chest to sell at the antique store here and I’m having some trouble getting it out of my car. Would you be so kind as to help me?” “Of course. Let me just put my bag in my car quick and I’ll be right there.” I smiled again and using the remote on my keys to unlock the doors, which I had finally located and extricated from the jungle of my gym bag, tossed the bag in the back seat and followed to her vehicle. “Thank you so much for this. I was counting on someone in the store being able to help me, but no one seems to be around and I’m in a bit of a hurry.” She did look slightly frazzled saying this and checked her watch to see the time. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy to help out.” She had a sizeable chest, at least a good 3 feet long and 2 feet wide secured with bungie cords into the trunk of her car. It had very intricate carvings all along it and despite looking extremely old, it was in almost immaculate condition. “This is beautiful.” I commented as I began undoing the bungie cords. “It’s a hope chest, right? My mom has one. Not nearly as detailed as this but about the same size.” “Yes. It belonged to my great aunt who recently passed away. I’m in charge of her estate and when some things didn’t sell at the auction and no one claimed them as inheritance, my only choice left was to sell them. For some reason this one didn’t sell at the auction even though the auctioneer was sure it would be one of the highest ticket items due to its condition. A friend suggested I bring it here.” Having been dragged to several auctions as a kid (and hating every minute of it) this was odd to me. Usually people will buy the strangest things when they can do so for pennies on the dollar of what they are actually worth. And this piece seemed highly valuable, so it was a shock to me that someone hadn’t snatched it up. I managed to pull the chest out easily enough given it was empty and she closed the trunk. “Actually, my friend suggested I try for that Antique Roadshow first and that maybe it would be end up being worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, but I don’t want to spend that much time and effort on it. I just need to get rid of it as I live out of state and can’t miss too much more work.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Loosing someone is never easy.” I puffed out as I walked trying my best to hold onto this thing. It was an awkward shape and size with no handles and I guess, without realizing it, I was trying to show off for this complete stranger by not having her help me carry it. Hearing about this woman’s family member dying shifted my mind immediately back to Lee as I walked toward the antique store next door to my gym. It was so strange that I only now realized it was exactly like a death that I was mourning but he was still alive. He was forever out of my life as though he died but he is still living and happy just not with me which somehow made it that much worse. “Thank you. To be honest, I never knew her that well so I’m not sure why she entrusted me to do all this, but here I am.” She shrugged at this and walked a bit ahead of me to hold open the door to the antique store. “You can just leave that here they said. Someone will take it to the back when we’re done filling out the paperwork after the appraisal. Thank you so much again for your help.” “You’re very welcome. I hope you have a good rest of your day and sorry again for your loss.” I smiled and turned to leave when something about the chest recaptured my attention. The woman was already moving deeper into the store to find the clerk or whomever to do the appraisal, but I was drawn back to this chest. It really was beautifully decorated and well maintained on the outside. Wonder what the inside looks like I thought and found myself kneeling to open it. It opened smoothly and was almost completely empty except for a single piece of paper. Reaching in to check it wasn’t something the woman might need that would accidently get lost with the chest, I found myself stunned at what I was looking at. The page looked and felt ancient. That really old thick paper or parchment that you see in movies or TV shows that is from the 1700’s or something. It didn’t feel delicate or fragile despite its apparent age. It was obviously torn from a book given the single jagged edge, but the rest of whatever book it came from was nowhere to be found. What was even more intriguing about this old page however was what was written on it: This page is conjured for a person whose life is woefully out of balance. Someone has caused you great pain for their own gain and this must be brought back to balance. Use the power of All Hallows Eve to call upon the forces needed to restore balance. If you truly believe, the instructions will appear. If not, this page will soon vanish and travel to the next person most in need of its services. I looked up with the overwhelming desire to laugh. This had to be a joke, right? Was there a camera somewhere, or was this planned just for me? It was too… specific. Well no more or less specific than most psychic readings in my opinion. Despite my skepticism, I always thought there was something out there beyond the tangible. Never really anything as mainstream as magic as that felt too easy, but I’ve had too many unexplainable things happen that I can’t help but believe there is some kind of force working in our lives that we haven’t identified… or maybe just forgot about/lost faith in? I looked around the store quickly to see if the woman had returned or was nearby to ask about this strange page and when I couldn’t locate her, assumed she went into a manager's office or back room and returned my gaze to the paper. There, below the first few lines, a new sentence appeared: No this is not a joke. That wasn’t there before. I know it wasn’t. Must have been some reaction to the sunlight after being planted in the dark chest. I remember reading about inks and dyes that act like “invisible” ink but require light or heat to be made visible again. Definitely a neat trick or novelty item, especially given that Halloween was so close. The only thing that could have made this even creepier would be… James I watched as my name was written onto the parchment. Not slowly appeared as though the ink were drying, but actually written out, letter by letter by some unseen hand. I dropped the paper in shock. Okay… either this is the best prank setup in history… Or it’s real. Like really real. Holy… or maybe unholy? There was no denying now that I believed this was some sort of magic but the question now thundering in my head was: what would be the cost of using it? I heard the sing song, high pitched voice of Rumpelstiltskin from Once Upon A Time in my head: “Magic always comes with a price dearie”. What exactly would happen? Restore my life to balance? That could mean any number of things. Without even really registering it, I had picked up the paper from the floor, folded it gently before putting it in my pocket then I was walking towards the back of the store to find the woman. She was talking to a man in what looked like a back-office area. “How much would you like for the chest?” I asked before really thinking through what I was asking. Why do I suddenly want to buy this woman’s hope chest? I didn’t have a use for it, didn’t really have a place for it in my apartment... but something inside told me I had to have it. “Oh!” She was shocked by this and said she’d be happy with $200. I told her I would be right back as there was an ATM at the end of the strip mall. The salesperson looked annoyed and I heard him say he could beat the price, offering to pay several hundred dollars more, but apparently the fact that no one from the store had helped her move the chest countered the lost income. Not to mention would save her time not having to fill out paperwork and wait for this guy before she could leave. I returned about 5 minutes later with the cash in hand and hauled off the chest I just brought inside back out to my car. Bringing over the bungie cords she had used and giving them to me as a ‘bonus with purchase”, she shook my hand and thanked me. I moved around to the driver’s door pulling out the folded page from my pocket as I went and got in the car. I had originally planned to go home and have my post workout meal but as I sat in the car looking at the unfolded page with the instructions for what to do magically appearing, I knew those plans had changed. Now, I have a couple stops to make.

Ok read me out. I dont think Deano is gay. I think he is a guy that's turned on by muscles and he doesnt understand what's hapening to him so that's why he went for the kiss.. He is not attracted to anyone else or i think he's not but Woody's body and that should fit him perfectly. My polyamory heart is doing summersaults cause i can imagine Woody and Deano training Luke and making him one of the ebst Bodybuilders that University has seen combining what the both of them know will make Luke a new man in no time. How i wish Luke gets in and will eb all like... "Oh Im not mad. Im just dissapoited i couldnt watch"

Is it possible that your writing is getting even better? Just wow. Great chapter.

Oh, shit!! Sure hope Luke is understanding about this because no way can he expect Woody to resist this twat-faced, pocket-sized, wonky ab'd, big arsed, velvet-strapped lust engine when they're nearly naked on a bed together, mouth on mouth. There's just too much heat here, simply too much combustible material, and the laws of attraction (not to mention thermodynamics) are called laws for a reason! They must be obeyed!

Mommy Muscle Growth Episode One - “Power Corrupts” Part 2 ***************************** Authors Note: Thanks for all the support on Part 1. It’s my first FMG story. Plus, I work 2 jobs. So thanks for your patience. ***************************** “Check it out, Braxton. I have muscle now!” I remember how, Mom, marched into the kitchen this morning. Right as I was eating breakfast. Flexing her arm and popping up this impressive little bicep. “Wow, Mom! I had no idea you were getting so buff.” I said dribbling some milk down my chin. Even though, Dad, was a heavyweight bodybuilder. And I was this pretty big college jock myself. It was always surprising to see a decent amount of muscle on a chic. Let alone my own mother. *RIIIPPPP* Fast forward to later that night. “Oh god, Mom... Your clothes...” I could only continue to weep in disbelief. Witnessing probably female muscle history. As that once tiny muscle arm was now this ultra-devastating hulking mass of female muscle power. A volcanic eruption of silky smooth super strength. Easily 21-inches and still growing. The biggest bicep and meat-packed tricep ever witnessed on a chic. Yet mom wielded around without any hesitation. Not even an ounce of remorse. “Oops!” In fact, Mom, could only devilishly giggle in response. With her clothes ripping apart like paper. “I’m surprised they lasted this long.“ She said flexing wildly. Causing her sleeves to blow away first. *SNAP*, *POP*. Followed by her skin tight muscle bulging gym-shorts. *RRIIPPPP* The sound of all those threads snapping away like power lines in a thunderstorm. “Ooooh yesss...” She moaned proudly. Flexing her legs just bigger and bigger. As if her growth was endless. Boundless. “The power...” And then she groaned. Already teetering on dad’s massive muscle size. Her thighs rumbling to an unbelievably carved 30-inches, maybe 31-inches of hulking female muscle strength. “I think my legs are bigger than your fathers!” She laughed. Looking down as her stance, her feet, were forcibly spread apart. Giving her quads this thundering flex. *POP*, *BANG* “Fuck, Mom!” I squealed like a kid. Watching her gym-shorts suddenly burst apart. An epic nuclear muscle meltdown of dinosaur proportions. With a thousand torn pieces falling to her feet. “Ooooh, yeahh! MORE!” Mom, could only groan with a size hungry lust. Bending over to feverishly explore, worship, her own super-pumped T-Rex sized muscle-quads. “You could just call me Quadzilla...” She, chuckled once more. Her size ravenous mom jokes. With even her calf-muscles looking so grossly huge and freaky. It was a level of muscle that I don’t even think most men could handle. And yet my mom was absolutely loving it. “I’ve honestly been dreaming about this for SO long!...” She even shockingly stated. Making me squirm in even more confusion. “You have!?” Wondering just how long my mom had this secret muscle lust. “I couldn’t just let you and your father do all the growing. I wanted some muscle too!!!” Mom, spouted more of her wild fantasies. Flexing just bigger and bigger. Gloriously quaking across the floor to the living room mirror. To no doubt feast upon her own godly reflection. “But even I couldn’t have imagined this...” Mom, giggled as she walked. Looking down in such smirking accomplishment. Witnessing her own increasing immobility. All that muscle bursting up between her monster marbled mommy legs. Giving her that classic bodybuilder wobble. “I FEEL so INCREDIBLE!” Mom, roared in absolute amazement. Feasting upon her freakishly muscular goddess physique for the first time. “I mean, they might as well just hand me the CROWN now!” She arrogantly chuckled. Hauling up her one of her mountainous skull-crushing peaks of bicep. Stuffing right up against her own petit grinning face. Looking to be 23.5...24-inches of super muscle mommy strength. Definitely bigger than Dads! “I’m going to make the other FEMALES look like ANTS!!!” Mom, roared wildly. Looking totally horned up, if I’m honest. Surging suddenly pounds bigger. Taking a few gross whiffs of her own infant-crushing shaven armpits. Kiss and lick her own Everest-sized peaks of man-crushing biceps. “You’re telling me, Mom!” And yet I could only seem to hopelessly feed back into it. “It looks like you’re even BIGGER than DAD!” I just had to say it. Out loud in the open. With a jaw-dropped drool. Feeling a slight mental hysteria, if I’m honest. Watching my mom still grow and grow. Pounds of muscle by the minute. “Hope your father doesn’t mind if I just keep GROWING!” And then, Mom, said it. The unthinkable. Chuckling with this sinister laugh. “BIGGER!? B-But, Mom!” I could only squeal in response. Helplessly watching as even her pink silky briefs began to tear away. *RRIIIIPPPPP* Snapping free from the depths her ape-sized hairless bodybuilding butt. Unveiling from the front, this equally growing muscle-puss. “Oh F-Fuck...” I weeped in utter disbelief. “How much of those pills did you actually take!?” I just had to ask. Knowing there must have been some freaky side effects happening. Her cunt was just so grossly rippled and bulging with muscle. A fucking cock-coffin. Reserved for only the biggest of men. “Just the WHOLE bottle!” Mom, gladly revealed. “And yet I would honestly take ANOTHER!” She powerfully chuckled. “W-WHAT!?” I squealed. Watching my mom brush her hands down her magnificent muscle chest. “And ANOTHER!!” She continued to roar. Seeming insatiable in her muscle hunger. Rubbing her tank-strong silky smooth 12-pack. Down to her perfect v-line. Not stopping until she could even lavishly palm her cock crushing muscle-cunt. Right in front of me! “GROW until I could SQUAT my own HONDA!” Mom, roared insanely. Pleasuring herself. With her musclebound-pussy beginning to gush. A fucking torrent of cunt-juice across her own musclebound reflection. Right before flexing into this earth-shattering most muscular pose. “MORE and MORE until I DWARF even the biggest of MALE bodybuilders!” Mom, continued hysterically. Her words just making my jaw drop. Flexing herself just bigger and bigger. Rumbling pounds more. As if she commanded it. Willed it to happen. The new muscle Queen of the Universe! Pumping herself to the size of the biggest bodybuilders. Hauling up these huge super smooth and shaven 25-inch muscle mommy arms. Flexing and almost immobilized by her 36-inch legs. Spreading her feet just miles apart across the floor. “I WANT to make your FATHER look like a TODDLER!” Mom, shockingly stated. Right as she began to moan uncontrollably. Pant like this big dog. Worshipping her own over-pumped musclebound chest. The two watermelon-huge sculpted power-breast. Laughing as they squeezed against the bottom of her own chin. “JESUS Christ, Mom! How big do you actually want to GROW!?” I screamed a bit. In the most manly way possible. But I just had to know. “I..I...UNNGHHHH” And yet, Mom, couldn’t even form words. As if the size she wanted to achieve was almost indescribable. Unfathomable. Finally tipping her fantasies overboard. As I watched my own goddess huge muscle mom began to cum. “UNNGHHH” Mom, roared. This big growing beast. Finally reaching down and piercing her chiseled strengthening cunt-hole. Gushing so much muscle-juice, she almost flooded the floor. All while worshipping and licking her ungodly huge 26-inch peaks of hulking female arm-strength. “OH MY GOD!” And then... That’s when, Dad, walked in... “SARAH! What have you DONE!?”... ********************************** Hope you enjoyed.

Bless you, mate. I mean - I would like to think the more I write the better I get. Wether that's actually happening right now I don't know. I'm probably not the next person to judge.

Chapter 2 A few days later, as the clock was ticking closer and closer to midnight and after talking myself into then out of doing this several times, I finally settled on performing this magic ritual to restore balance. What’s the worst that could happen? Really, I have no idea. This is magic after all. You are dealing with forces you cannot begin to comprehend *Spoken in a deep resonating voice* It’s not like anyone will die or anything… surely... And even if they did, how could you be blamed? This is magic after all… “Screw it”. Speaking aloud to myself. I honestly can’t imagine things getting worse for me than they already are. Though that could simply be a lack of imagination on my part. No risk, no reward… but also no punishment. “Just make up your damned mind!” I shouted into an empty apartment. Fine. Alright I’m doing this. Besides, there is still a good chance this is likely some elaborate hoax that I was set up for and all that will happen is me wasting my time. I went over to the chest that did find its way into a great spot in my apartment and opened the lid. Intending to reach in and pull out the lone occupant (i.e. the parchment paper) I stumbled backwards and fell on my ass as I saw that the chest was now filled with everything I would need for the ritual. Panting on the floor from the sudden surge of adrenaline, I spent the next several minutes grappling with this further proof that magic was real. Not only was the page conjured up, but everything else I needed was too! “Guess I didn’t need to go shopping after all!” I said without realizing it only to laugh slightly hysterically at myself for the absurdity of it. Part of me was legitimately mad at having all this stuff provided after wasting my money to buy duplicate items and ingredients. It took a bit more time to calm down but when my “warning alarm” went off telling me I had only 15 minutes left to midnight, I prepared things as outlined in the “instructions” which really read more like a recipe than any sort of spell I’d ever seen. Though, admittedly, I haven’t really seen many, other than in the Harry Potter movies that is. The clock struck 12, now officially Halloween and I started chanting as well as mixing up the ingredients. After I had finished the ritual and was only reasonably sure I had done and said things correctly there wasn’t any noticeable effect. No clap of thunder, no puff of smoke, no ethereal voices, zilch. “Well either I completely botched this up, which is the most likely answer, or it doesn’t have one of those flashy effects.” Suddenly, a line from Harry Potter popped into my brain: Bangs and smoke were often the sign of ineptitude rather than experience. No sooner had I thought this when I realized that I was thinking about other things… things I couldn’t have known but somehow were there. Truly divine (or maybe demonic) knowledge had appeared in my brain and I now knew what to do next without conscious thought or realization. There was a sense of calm and understanding that I really would get things back into balance so long as I followed this plan. This was going to be a good day. A really good day. ***** I walked into the gym a little before 4PM to get things set up. I knew it would take some extra time as this was not my usual gym but instead one on the other side of town. I completed all the necessary steps to obtain a day pass to enter and made my way to the locker room to change clothes. A few minutes later I was finishing up when two people walked in. The two people I had planned on meeting and the sole reason I was here: my ex and the guy he cheated on/left me for. “Oh, hey James.” Lee said with shock and trained politeness before looking suddenly very uncomfortable. Hugh, his boyfriend, gave me a polite enough head nod but didn’t say anything. “Hey Lee. Been a while. How have you been?” I responded to him very nicely, almost chipper which seemed to unsettle him even more. Given our last series of conversations and my state of mind at the time, this was a jarring difference. I was using the tone of an old acquaintance you haven’t seen for a long time and were on good terms with, not someone you were once romantically involved with and ended up admitted to the hospital under psychiatric care because of. “Good, good. You?” Lee asked as he eyed Hugh with some concern. Last time Hugh and I had met face-to-face, Hugh was less than excited to see me, even going as far as nearly punching me. I will admit, in his defense given how I was raving about all the ways that Lee had lied to me, broken promises, fucked things up, ruined my life and in general how I thought he was being a monumental jackass, his reaction was not entirely surprising. “I’m fantastic actually. Work has been going great and I had a recent event happen that has me very hopeful for the future.” I finished up enigmatically and put my stuff in the locker, all except my shaker of an intra-workout mix and towel. “Good. I’m really happy to hear you’re doing better. You just starting your workout?” Lee asked as he looked over his shoulder to see Hugh choosing a locker as far away from me as possible causing Lee to be torn on what to do next. “Yep. Arms today. Hope you both have a great workout.” I said standing up and walking away clearly indicating that I was done with this exchange. Lee muttered thanks and turned to rejoin his boyfriend. I looked up at the clock and saw I had about 10 seconds to 4PM. Given the spell was conjured for anyone who really needed it, there was a unique requirement that a symbolic measure of time, something within the 24-hour length of Halloween, must be used for the effects. Since it had been 8 months Lee and I were “together” and 8 months since he cut all ties with me, 8 hours would be a perfect symbology how long the spell would take for full effect. This meant a 4PM start to achieve a midnight culmination as that’s when the magic would be most powerful. I took a deep breath, cleared my head of other thoughts but what I needed and cast my spell: On this day, All Hallows Eve, I ask the spirits for reprieve, Equal parts of black and white, Cast upon those within my sight, Trick and treat I do implore, Tip back the scales, balance restore. Once again there was no clap of thunder, shaking of the earth, flickering lights or anything in either Lee or Hugh’s behavior or appearance to indicate anything supernatural had happened, but I knew it had. It’s hard to describe the sensation but there was something akin to feeling an energy being siphoned away. All my negative thoughts and emotions seemed to be flowing from my head and out of my body towards the two men in front of me. After a few moments the energy transfer had stopped, and I was left with this serene feeling of calm. The sight of my ex with someone else no longer bothered me like it had for months now. I can’t say I was happy at the sight, but I was at peace. Though the void where those emotions one resided was quickly replaced by an energized feeling for my workout, but that I attribute more to the new pre-workout mix I had taken rather than any supernatural influence. I went through my arm workout like a man possessed. Never had I ever had such a level of mind-muscle connection or as furious a pump as I did today. My arms felt like they were growing with each rep, my skin was getting tighter, more veins were popping, it was truly amazing to see, but far better to feel. I began with my normal warm up sets just to get loosened up and acclimated. Immediately I could tell something was different. The sensation was something so much better than I’d ever had, hell better than I ever dreamed of having! There was a deep almost pleasurable feeling coming from within the muscle tissue. I did two warm up sets for my triceps before moving the weight up to the working sets. At my first rep, a sort of haze drifted into my head blocking out everything around me but the task at hand. Having little to no experience with drugs, I equated this feeling to what being high must be like; a sort of body detachment yet somehow a simultaneous deeper connection to it. I couldn’t tell you how many reps I did that first working set, but it was well beyond the 12 I had planned. Each rep was another burst of pleasure that overrode any sense of fatigue or pain from working the muscle like I knew from my experience they should. I continued on to do a half dozen more sets of the same exercise before moving on to the next. Switching over to bicep work was like nothing I could have prepared for, even after having that triceps euphoria. This was similar yet different in that it connected me to something primal, something defiantly male. Arms were a tell-tale sign of masculinity and power, but it was the bicep that was most easily recognized as such. Feeling my own biceps swell, harden, and grow, then looking down to see them in action was otherworldly. Again, I couldn’t tell you how many sets I did of that first curling exercise, but I would guess at least six. From there I did every variation and angle I could think of to work my arms. Machines, cables, free weights, everything. Barely pausing between sets before desperately craving the next “hit” like a crazed drug addict. Despite the fact I was chasing a buzz, I did each set with the same controlled focus I always have but was so intense it could have been world war three outside, or a zombie apocalypse and I would have kept pumping. I didn’t see or acknowledge other people in the gym, just more iron for me to lift and use to make myself bigger and stronger. It wasn’t until I was out of my intra-workout shake that I took more than a two-minute break. I was shocked to look at my watch and find it was nearly 6 PM by this point as I rarely lifted for more than an hour. Not ready to quit just yet, I went into the locker room to make a fresh batch of my intra workout shake, and a supplemental protein shake to slam down for fuel before I went back out and continuing. Once again, I met up with Lee and Hugh in the locker room as they were taking their post workout selfies for social media. I barely registered it was them before I continued past them to my locker and mixed up my shakes. “Fuck! Babe would you look at this PUMP!?” I heard Hugh say as he kept flexing over and over in front of the mirror. “I’ve NEVER felt so swole before! God, I look so much bigger right now. I wish this could last!” “Careful what you wish for” I muttered with a smirk before taking out a second empty shaker from my bag and adding a scoop of protein powder to it. The truth was, Hugh didn’t just look bigger, he was bigger. The supernatural knowledge in my head told me that he wouldn’t try to quantify this by measuring or weighing himself, which was all part of the spells design. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew exactly what was coming and how the spell’s effects on him would play out, I would say that I was tricked and mislead by whatever forces were at work. Here was this guy who I lost my first love to for being more muscular than I was, now becoming even more of what my ex desired most, how was this bringing me balance? However, I knew what was in store for them both over the next 6 hours so it didn’t cause me any further anger. As I was adding a second scoop of powder to my shaker, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. My stomach was twisted and growling at me in fury for fuel only slightly overpowering the begging and pleading for nutrients my muscles were making. “You look amazing babe! We got a lot of good shots, but we need to get going if we’re going to have enough time to get ready before the Halloween party tonight.” Lee said and when I looked at him, while he did look pleased, and very turned on by his strutting and preening boyfriend, there was also a look of barely disguised jealousy and anger behind it. I couldn’t tell if seeing this was due to my knowing Lee as well as I did, or some secondary effect of the spell. I stood up shaking away the lingering analyzing of Lee’s mood as I polished off my shake, walked over to the nearby sink to rinse out my shaker seriously debating on mixing up another when I caught sight of myself for the first time. Okay, not strictly true as I had been watching my form in the mirrors during my lifts, but this was the first time with a head clear of whatever endorphin or magic induced fog had taken over me. I had to echo the sentiments of Hugh just then: I’ve never looked so pumped! This was like a years' worth of pumps and gains all showing up together. But more than that, I could see I was noticeably leaner and more vascular than when I walked in two hours ago. I looked down at my forearms and gave them a few casual flexes and twists to see the veins pop more than ever. In a few minutes when the carbs from my shake and intra-workout hit, that would probably get even more pronounced! I couldn’t help it and threw up a double bicep shot in the mirror. “Wow James, you look really pumped too!” Lee called over and now the constipated look of too many emotions battling in his head was even more pronounced. This time however, there was more a look of confusion or concentration on his face than anything. I could tell he was trying to remember if I looked as big/lean when he saw me before. Beneath all that analyzing though was a good dose of lust. Lee was an arm guy. Not just in what he was attracted to, but what he felt was his own weakest muscle group to respond and the one part of his physique he was so desperate to grow. The pump I had going on now had swollen my arms to well over 18” I was sure and I was going to ride out this workout high until I passed out or died because I wanted to see how big I could get them! “Thanks Lee. Going to go see if I can coax a little bit more size out of them before I call it quits tonight. Have fun at your party!” I said waving to them before I left the room. ***** It was another two hours later before I left the gym more depleted and tired than I’ve ever been, but also more pumped, satisfied and genuinely proud of myself than I remembered being in ages. I broke down after the workout upon seeing my arms in the mirror during my second double bi and that they were insane. I had more definition, size, vascularity and separation than ever. I had true bodybuilder caliber arms which was impossible given how I looked walking into the gym earlier. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice the impossible transformation given they were either too focused on themselves or weren’t there to see me when I had arrived to make the comparison against. I grabbed the tape measure in my bag and wrapped it around each arm to find they had indeed pumped up to not just beyond 18” but just crossed the 19” barrier. I gained over 2” of “pump” in a few hours which my logical mind knew was impossible but honestly all I could do was think I wanted so much more! It’s also not just a pump either, this is permanent the voice in my head told me. I took a myriad of photos in every which way I could fathom, even enlisting the help of another gym goer before heading to my car and uploading a few, plus a “before/after” shot to Instagram. What no one will know is that the “before” pic was from just a few hours ago rather than weeks or months. The weird thing was that I felt pumped just about everywhere, not just my arms. Both my chest and back felt it the most, which given their activation during most of my arm exercises wasn’t too unusual, my shoulders were more rounded and capped than before, and somehow even my legs felt different. As I was leaving, the guy at the desk waved me over and gave me a few free passes as covertly as possible. Included on one was a handwritten phone number that I assume was his. I told him I’d be back the next day same time and he said he would too. I drove home still in awe of how I looked and felt and it wasn’t until I parked the car and looked back at my phone that I saw the dozens of likes, comments, a handful of new followers and even a few direct messages I had gotten. One in particular caught my eye: “Man, I hope you’re planning to come to the Halloween party at Tric tonight. Those arms NEED to be shown off and shared with the world!” I never really got into Halloween parties, and had only been to Tric a few times with a group of people as it wasn’t really my thing, but tonight I knew I had to be there. Scrolling through my messages I found that the tentative plans with friends were in fact being moved to Tric anyway, so it worked out perfectly. Too perfectly I thought realizing this was probably some manipulation of magic at play, but frankly I didn’t care. I went into my bedroom and rummaged around for a good 20 minutes trying to find my prize. I dug out the costume I wore the year before. It was a Robin Hood style getup but it was very sexy. The material looked like it would be just stretchy enough to allow me to fit in it, or so I hoped, and show off my now bulging arms in tight, nearly spandex material. It was long sleeve so it wasn’t quite as flattering as going sleeveless, but I had ideas about that when I was at the club. I pulled out my black pair of spandex leggings that I wore to the gym for leg day and laid out the costume on my bed. Suddenly I got hard at the visual of how I was going to look in this and I was turning myself on! He was right, I need to show off tonight. I went to the bathroom to shower, started to disrobe my gym attire and when I looked at myself in the mirror, my breath caught in my throat. I Was Fucking HOTT! My dick shot up from chub to raging in approximately 3.2 seconds. I was LEAN. I was HARD. I was RIPPED! For fuck sake, I had ABS! I haven’t had abs in ages but now I had them in excess! 8 clearly defined and striated works of art now sat there looking back at me in the mirror. If that wasn’t enough. my chest was thick, swollen and had cleavage for yet another first time in my life. I’ve been working my chest 2x a week to try and get it to develop and grow as it’s my lagging muscle group and I desperately wanted to have that valley between my pecs. I wanted them to touch, to rub together, as I always had the fantasy of getting pec fucked by someone and milking their dick to explosion between my hard chest plates. I not only looked like a fitness model, I looked like I was a few weeks out from taking the stage at a bodybuilding show! This was the sort of lean/defined look I’d been working towards for months, years really and couldn’t seem to get. My body stubbornly held onto its fat reserves no matter what I tried to do, but now, I looked like I’d always dreamed I could! Needless to say, my shower took a long time and was hands down (then up, then down again) the best I’d ever had. I then spent an absurd amount of time primping and cleaning myself up. I never spent much more than about 15 minutes shaving, combing my hair, etc., but tonight, I was determined to not just look good below the neck. I wanted the whole package and for everyone in that club to want me. I shaved and sculpted my face till I looked my absolute best. Even going as far as trimming eyebrows and plucking stray hairs. Scrubbed away all the dirt, dead skin cells, unblocked my pores, tightened the skin, applying lotion, then spent more time than I care to admit styling my hair until I looked better than I ever had in my life. I went to the bedroom and into the bag that my costume was in to find the accessories I bought with it the year before. Included among them was eyeliner that I was too chicken to try but tonight knew would make me look even more sexy. After a good 10 minutes of trial and error (and pain as I stabbed my eye more than once), I was finished and really pleased with the outcome. Not something I’ll do every day, but it did add to my overall look. My eyes were definitely the highlight of my face now which was exactly what I hoped seeing as I’d been told (though never really believing it) that my eyes were one of my best features. I took a couple quick shots and right as I was finishing up, a line from Once Upon a Time flashed in my head of The Evil Queen calling Captain Hook “Captain Guyliner.” Given the Robin Hood-esque look of the costume it was a close comparison. Returning to the bedroom I started to put on the costume and quickly realized that I was going to need to be very careful. This outfit was going to fit at that level of “so tight that any excess moving or stretching (or flexing) was going to cause a scene”. Perfect. I dressed, put on all the extra accessories, gave myself the once over in the mirror before grabbing my keys, phone and ID then headed out.

WOW! Fucking Hell Mate! @muscleaddict What a twist! I had a suspicion about that twat faced Deano, but I was not sure. I can’t wait to see what happens next. Mate, your writing and command of the story just keep getting better and better. Keep on the good work.

EDIT: so four years after posting the scrap of a story below, I revised, expanded, and completed the whole thing. You can read it here: https://metabods.com/mbxy/site/story.php?id=gene-hack-2217 the version below is unaltered from 2018, for archival purposes Gene Hack Hey, it's been a long time, but here's a muscle growth story. It's kinda unfinished, I guess, so if you have any suggestions about where to take it, let me know. It's sort of dark. I hope you like it - Mikey Alex sat in his buddy's office at the University, fidgeting. He was lucky that his old undergraduate room-mate, Adi, had gone on to a career in genetic research, and that he had a few favours to turn in. To be honest, Alex didn't know where else to turn. Adi told him it'd take at least five or six hours to analyze the sample and bring back any useful information. Plenty of time for Alex to go home and come back. But he didn't want to go home. Images flashed through his head of what was waiting for him back there. It was pretty disturbing when he left this morning. He shivered to think what was waiting for him by this point. He knew the longer he put it off, the worse it would be. He knew Tom was alone, probably scared, probably suffering. But he just couldn't face what his room-mate was transforming into. The office door opened and a tired-looking Adi stepped in. "Well?!" Alex said, knowing he was being rude, not caring. The last week had his nerves rubbed raw. Adi looked at his old room-mate. "I give you these results, and you delete those pictures of me, right?" Alex nodded hastily. "Yes, yes, god yes. Have mercy, man, tell me what you found." Adi shut the door firmly, strode to his desk, and let his body collapse into his office chair. He exhaled long and slow. "Alex, to be blunt: your friend is totally fucked." * Bodybuilders began showing up heavier and larger at competitions. Not the incremental size increases that the last few decades had shown - we're talking Olympia contenders slabbing on 40, 50, even 60 lbs of mass between last year's competition and this one. 300 lbs on the contest stage wasn't an anomaly anymore - it was the new normal. Then, a few months later, 350. It was a secret, for a little while, how this was happening. But where there's desire, there's a market, and where there's a market.... Soon, boutique genetic modification for bodybuilders was de rigeur for elites - and for hobbyists who could afford the steep price-tag. "We don't delete the genes that prompt the body to produce myostatin," one youtube advertisement claimed. "We moderate those genes, gradually reduce their activity, so muscle growth can continue far beyond natural limits, but in a way that doesn't threaten your health or long-term longevity." It cost a lot of money. Several years of growth hormone levels of "a lot." A new car, and a nice one at that. But when Big Ramy showed up at the 2021 Olympia weighing 435 lbs... it was hard to argue with results. When there's a service in high demand, with a high price, scammers and charlatans will gather in the shadows to feast. * Tom heard good things about the clinic in Mexico. They'd do the myostatin modification for a cut rate - about 1/10th of what it cost to have it done in California. Dudes who had it done posted before and afters on the forums he frequented. He knew they could be faked, an orchestrated army of pretend satisfied customers. But he wanted to believe. He had been trying to muscle up for several years now. Any sensible person would believe he had succeeded. He had been a cute 155 lbs twink. Two years later, he was 195 lbs of beef, leaner, broader, wider, arms pushing toward 17". It wasn't enough. It wasn't fast enough. He had already done two steroid cycles, was committed to the blast and cruise lifestyle, had tried human growth hormone, had dabbled in insulin.... Everyone told him he was big. He didn't think so. To him, big was... well, it was Big Ramy. It was the other Olympians. It was the fever dreams he had that turned his cock to a steel rod, men even bigger than that, almost too over-muscled to move, frames overwhelmed, drowning in their own meat. Room-filling roided up beef heap. Tom wanted to get HUGE. So he contacted the clinic, made an appointment, got his passport, and headed for the border. It wasn't even an overnight stay. * Adi pinched the bridge of his nose. The poor guy's DNA was a mess. A real hatchet job. Whoever had done this was more butcher than scientist. "What do you mean, he's fucked?!" "I mean, the genes meant to modulate his growth, keep it from just... being permanently stuck in overdrive.... They're gone. They're not modified, they've just been clumsily hacked out. His poor DNA is ripped apart. And that's why he's... in the condition he's in." "Is it going to stop?" Adi looked at his old room-mate. "You're smarter than that, Alex. You know the answer to that. I don't know how to help this poor man. He's likely to just.... Continue growing until his skin rips apart, or his organs fail, his bones are crushed, or something else. I'm very sorry. All I can think to do is to make him comfortable. Take him to the hospital. Dope him up until the inevitable end." Alex swallowed hard. He had trouble accepting what his friend was telling him. But it all made sense. "... OK. Thank you, Adi." He got up, collected his things, fumbled with his jacket, realizing his vision was blurring. "And those photos." "What?" "Those photos. You know the ones. They're deleted, right? I have a family, Alex." "Christ, Adi. Yes. They're deleted." "Good." * The weeks after Tom received the treatment were unreal. He loved it. He was blowing up like a meat balloon, adding several pounds a day. Each trip to the gym he was substantially stronger. Every few days he outgrew another article of clothing. He was always hungry. It was like it was impossible for his body to get too much fuel. He would gorge himself in the evenings, eating until it hurt, until his hard, ab-cobbled stomach, stuck out like he was pregnant. He always woke up with it flat again, a tight 31". He knew all that food was turning to muscle. It made him want to eat even more the next night. It made him want to stuff his face every waking moment he wasn't in the gym. Every workout was an event. He felt people staring. Everyone knew it wasn't natural, what was happening to him. He hit 225 lbs so fast he barely even noticed it. But his room-mate, Alex, noticed it. "Fuck, Tom, you're... really blowing up." Tom hadn't told anyone about the procedure. To be honest, he was a little private about it. A little embarrassed. But he figured people would realize something was up soon enough.... "I had that procedure done," he said. "What?" "The muscle growth gene hack that all the pros are getting. It's gonna be the key to really freak size." "Wow. Like.... How big....?" Tom smirked, feeling his dick stir in his pants. This was turning him on. He grabbed his phone and flipped through his photo stash of extreme bodybuilders. He found a video of Nic Vullioud so grossly overgrown his head seemed to be trapped between his pecs, traps, and delts, on the verge of being swallowed up. The poor guy could barely waddle - no, totter - around, turning himself sideways to get through a door, pecs and lats scraping the frame regardless. "That big, if I'm lucky." "Holy fuck, Tom!" "Yeah, I know. Intense, right?" "You want that?" "Hell yeah, man. I want it more than anything. That's why I went and had it done, after all." "Jesus. That's... that's a lot." "Heh. Well. Get used to it. You're gonna be living with a beast, man." * Alex heard the shout from the bathroom. "What happened?! Are you OK?!" "I'm better than OK, dude, I'm 350 fucking pounds!" Alex couldn't believe his eyes. Even though he'd been living with Tom as he'd rapidly inflated with mass, he hadn't seen him like this. Ass about to explode out of a tortured pair of briefs that might have fit 80 lbs ago. Veins the size of copper pipes, looking like they might rip out of his skin if he flexed too hard. Each movement slow, awkward. Tom looked like he was about to pop. He had the biggest grin on his face, like a kid on Christmas. He raised his arms, grotesque globs of bicep and tricep hanging under their own weight, skin criss-crossed with stretch marks, and he flexed. His biceps balled up towards his fists. His triceps battled uneasily with his lats for space. "Fuck! Don't do that!" Alex yelped, flinching. Tom laughed and flexed harder. "Hahaha, too much for you, little guy?" His dick was clearly hardening rapidly, the briefs straining tighter around his watermelon glutes. Tom laughed again and flexed, flexed, flexed. "I'm not even pumped," he grunted. "Dude..." "I can't wait to get even bigger man, this is so addictive." Flex. Flex. "Dude...." "I bet I can hit 400 by Christmas, fuck yeah, grrrr." Flex. Flex. "DUDE!" "Fuck, chill out. What?" "You're.... You're bleeding, buddy." "What?" Alex pointed. The thickest, darkest, angriest stretch mark, the one at Tom's pec-delt tie in, a stretch mark thicker than a thumb, was oozing dark blood. Just a little bit. "Growing too fast for my skin...." Tom said breathlessly, eyes full of wonder. His cock visibly throbbed in his about-to-explode underwear. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse. There was the sound of ripping fabric, and his thick seven incher burst free, the underwear disintegrating. Alex was stunned. Tom.... Tom was getting off on this. Tom shook his head, grabbed a few squares of toilet paper, and tried to dab the blood away from his tearing-apart stretch mark. He couldn't reach. "Fuck, dude.... Little help?" Alex reluctantly took the toilet paper and started dabbing away the dark blood. He felt a strange combination of nausea, fear, and... fuck, dare he admit it? Was it desire? He could practically see Tom growing in front of him. Alex stopped dabbing the blood away and laid his hand on Tom's trap. His fucking trap... it was bigger than a fucking quad. It was too thick for him to span it with his fingers outstretched. It reached up to Tom's fucking ear. It was hot to the touch. "Fuck dude.... I'm unstoppable. I'm just going to keep growing and growing and growing...." Tom groaned, then, leaned forward, grabbed the sink with his bloated, muscular hand, veins pulsing like they were fit to burst. He groaned again and then, without warning, him came, without touching himself, cock spasming helplessly, fountaining.

Ok guys, here’s the new story I’ve been working on. It’s of a similar size and scale to my last story "AJ & Noah". It’s told from the point of view of Woody (real name Sebastian Wood), a handsome, sassy, self assured (some might cocky) bodybuilder with a cheeky Instagram persona. Woody attends Montgomery University of Bodybuilding & Fitness; the only school in the world dedicated to turning its students into pro bodybuilders, where lessons include Posing Practice 101, Anatomy & Aesthetics and A History of Bodybuilding. There are a few references/Easter eggs to AJ & Noah and some of my other stories in here for anyone who’s familiar with them! I’ve got my friend @reeddune working on some illustrations too which I’ll be sharing soon. MUSCLE UNIVERSITY One I open my eyes and this feeling of warmth washes over me. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I woke up this happy. I look over to my best friend Emily lying in the bed next to me and she gives me this happy knowing grin. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about last night. Just two friends getting a bit drunk and going to the local gay club. But everything about it was awesome. The atmosphere. The people. And I just want to do it all over again. “How’s the head?” she asks me. I smile and shrug under the duvet of her bed. “I feel fine!” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe how much attention you were getting last night!” I beam back at her. “I’m used to it!” I reply cheekily. Even though I’m actually not. At least not these days. Emily grins and playfully rolls her eyes. “I loved it when that guy asked to feel my biceps!” I say excitedly. Emily giggles. “And then his mate joined in!” she says. “They were so funny!” I turn away from her and look up to the ceiling. God I love this room. This house. This town. Everything here is so … normal. It’s the complete opposite to my life at my own university. And now I feel a sudden pang of sadness at the realisation that none of this is mine. It’s Emily's. This is her room. In her student house. In her university town. And I’ll be going back to my (exceptionally not normal) student life in a few hours time. “I’m just surprised you didn’t meet someone and abandon me like you normally do!” Emily quips, with one eyebrow raised. I look over at her and smirk. “I probably should have done! It’s pretty much my only chance to pull these days!” “Seb, there must be other gay guys at your uni?” I pull a face. “You would think!” It might sound a little crazy, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if I was the only gay guy at my university. We stay silent for a while. “Is that club open again tonight?” I ask. She looks at me suspiciously. “Yeah?” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down. “What if I didn’t go back today and we go out again tonight?” What If I don’t go back at all, I think. “Erm … don’t you have an exam tomorrow morning?” I pull a face. “Meh!” Emily grins at me. I know she’d love me to stay another night, but we both know that I’m going to be sitting on that train back to Scotland in a few hours time. I sigh, pull the duvet down and look at the thick, perfectly pumped pecs bulging off my chest. “What do you think, boys? Do you wanna go back to Scotland today? Bounce once for yes, twice for no!” Then I bounce my pecs twice. Emily giggles in response. “The pecs have spoken!” I exclaim. She giddily beams back at me and everything suddenly feels good again. I love who I am when I’m with Emily. I love who I am when I’m here. It’s different to how I am at my own university. I don’t feel like I have to put on a front. I’m not competing with anyone. I can let my guard down. I can relax. I guess (like everything else here) I can be normal. Well, as normal as a sixteen stone bodybuilder with arms twice the size as most lads’ my age can be. A few hours later and we’re at the train station, my holdall thrown over one of my ridiculously broad shoulders. My train leaves in fifteen minutes and I want to get a good seat. As much as I love visiting Emily, the seven hour train journey to get there and back is never exactly fun. “Are you still coming down for your birthday next month?” she asks. “Yeah! Of course!” I can’t imagine spending my birthday at my own university. Jesus. How fucking depressing would that be? A couple walk past us; a boy and a girl. They both stare at me as they do and the girl pulls a funny face and looks at the boy wide eyed. Emily looks at me and we both grin. “Jeez! It’s like no one has ever seen a bodybuilder before!” I say. Emily laughs. “You’re definitely a novelty down here!” Something pulls in my stomach. A desire. This is what I want to be. What I should be. A novelty. A rare thing. Something out of the ordinary. This is what I want all the time. I suddenly feel a heavy sadness that I have to leave. “Do your think your uni would let me transfer down here?” I ask Emily. She gives me a sad smile. I know the answer to that one. “I’m not really sure if they’d be able to match your course!” I roll my eyes and manage to smile. Of course they fucking wouldn’t. No other university in the world would be able to match my course. I’m stuck there for another two and a half years. And then … well then there’s a very good chance that I’ll get to live my dream. It’s one small mercy I guess. The light at the end of the tunnel. The one thing I cling to during my shittiest days. Luckily the train isn’t that busy so I manage to have two seats to myself for the entire journey. On the journey down here two days ago some unfortunate fucker had to sit next to me. Because I’m basically built like a brick shithouse, I was spilling over onto his seat. The poor bastard was squashed up with half of his body hanging out into the aisle. Of course, there are some guys out there who would probably enjoy sitting next to me. Some who’d probably walk over hot fucking coals for a chance to be squashed up against my huge, muscular body in fact. The randy buggers. I divide my journey time up by revising for tomorrow's exam, listening to Spotify, staring at how huge and devastatingly sexy I am in the reflection of the train window (did I mention I’m a bit of a handsome fucker as well as being a two hundred and thirty pounds bodybuilder?) and thinking about how I’m going to spend the evening when I get back to my dorm room. By the way, you heard that right. I live in a shared fucking dorm room. Ugh. Just like the ones you see in all those films set in American colleges. Two beds. Two people. Two complete strangers chosen at random by a computer being forced to share a room. I mean … fucking seriously? My university is probably the only one in the UK that has them. They say it helps the students to bond. Really it’s just a cheaper way of housing us. It’s not like I can live off campus either. Trust me, I would if I could. But it's impossible. Because my university is in the middle of sodding nowhere. I’m complaining, but in actual fact, I’m one of the extremely lucky few first years who doesn't actually share his dorm room. Woo-hoo! My old roommate Craig (who was noisy, messy and had about as much banter as a brick) dropped out a few months ago so I have the whole room to myself. It’s mostly great, though there are times when I find myself getting a bit bored. There’s even been a few times where I’ve suddenly realised that I’m talking to myself. I have no idea what that’s about. Half way through the train journey I go to use the toilet. There’s a big mirror on the wall. Christ, I look huge. I’m always a little taken aback when I see my reflection in a foreign mirror. And this is no exception. My shoulders look ridiculous, my famously thick pecs (at least in the world of online muscle fans) are bulging underneath my plain white t-shirt (you should see them in a vest!) and my arms look straight up fucking monstrous. I guess I’m kinda known for my arms. I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging, but you should see the size of my biceps. They just fucking explode off my arms when flexed. My triceps are pretty crazy too. I mean, at this point I’m basically just an all round freak. Strangers in the street would probably run away from me screaming if I wasn’t so bloody good looking with it. Which people feel the need to remind me about quite a lot on Instagram. I’m always getting told how handsome I am by random users. And it’s not just on Instagram. I read a crazy comment on a muscle blog once where someone said I wouldn’t look too out of place in one of those American high school films where the hot jock guys always look way too old to be playing teenagers. I kinda loved reading that. Then I started imagining what kind of character I could play. I was thinking an unusually buff, British exchange student all the girls go crazy over but who’s actually secretly gay. Then some big Hollywood producer could snap me up and put me in a Marvel film as a superhero. Or as some mutant freak in the latest X-Men film (no CGI needed). I mess with my brown hair a little, which is getting a bit too long at the top, to restyle it. I turn my head to the side and look at my jawline in the reflection of the mirror. People are always mentioning my jawline on the Internet. Then I wiggle my eyebrows up and down and flash a big, cheesy grin at my reflection. And then I laugh at myself. Because I’m such a fucking knob sometimes. I lift my t-shirt up and HOLY ABS. God, I love my stomach muscles. They really fucking POP. It’s like I’ve got six big cobblestones trapped under my skin and they’re trying to burst out. They’re definitely amongst the best developed and most aesthetic abs of all the lads in my year. An idea pops into my head which I can’t resist following through with. I whip out my phone and take a picture of myself, flexing the bicep muscles in my right arm in the mirror while pulling a funny face. Then I load up Instagram and type a cheeky caption. Me and this bad boy bulging off my arm are on a train back to MU. Everyone keeps staring at me. It’s like they’ve never seen a muscle monster before. Weird! #huge #biceps #watchmegrow #freak4life #hellyeah #sexymonster And BOOM … the post is up and my sexy face and bulging biceps are out there for all the world to see. Or all twelve thousand of my Instagram followers anyway. My chest flutters with excitement at the thought of all the likes and comments that will, without question, soon come flooding in. As I walk (well, more like strut) through the carriage to return to my seat, practically every passenger looks up at me. I clock one guy I’m fast approaching who has his head buried in a book. I cough loudly as I walk towards him and he casually glances up. This comical, shocked expression takes over his face and his eyes look like they’re about pop out of their sockets when he looks at me. Ha! I give my new admirer a mischievous smirk as I strut past his seat. And no doubt half the carriage are now checking out my obscenely huge, round arse which is stuffed into my painted on skinny jeans. When I settle back into my seat I load up Instagram again on my phone. I feel a surge of excitement because (as predicted) the reaction to my latest post is crazy. The likes are going mad and new comments keep popping up. Someone calls me a “super freak” (love it). Another person says I’m “so so handsome”. I get called huge, unbelievable and some dude tells me he wants to get his hands on my biceps. The filthy bugger! I like every comment, and even reply to some. Thanking them, or saying “hell yeah” or “I need to get even BIGGER”. For some comments I just leave an emoji. One gets a winky face, another gets the emoji with the one eye closed and the tongue sticking out (I LOVE that one) and, fuck it, the guy who wants to feel my biceps gets the face blowing a kiss emoji. It’s flirty. It’s cheeky. It’s outrageous. And it’s so fucking ME. I love getting all that attention. I love making people go crazy. And I love turning people on. Knowing that they’re aroused by my huge muscles. God. It’s such a bonkers and powerful thought. I jump in the Uber I’ve booked when I get to my final station. The poor driver looks fucking terrified. As we drive to my campus this unsettling feeling churns in my stomach. This is the worst part about going to visit Emily at her university, or going back to my parents for long weekends or holidays; the horrible feeling I get whenever I have to return. If I were in a better mood, I might give my Uber driver a cheeky flex of my biceps before getting out of the car. Instead I say thanks and reluctantly get out. I pause as I look at the assortment of big brick buildings before me and the surrounding greenery. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about my university campus from the outside. It looks like any middle tier university in the UK. I breathe a deep sigh as I look at the only clue that this is anything but an ordinary university campus - a graphic image of an arm with big, flexed bicep muscles on the side of the Prince House building sitting next to the following words: “MONTGOMERY UNIVERSITY OF BODYBUILDING & FITNESS. MAKING TOMORROW'S TOP BODYBUILDERS.”

"Fucking Rhett," Jake muttered under his breath. He didn't want to be on this camping trip. He wasn't what you would call "outdoorsy." This whole roughin' it thing wasn't for him. But Jake was really bad at saying no to Rhett. Standing 6’1” and built like a college football player, Rhett was the quintessential guy next door — neatly-cropped blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a square jawline every guy envied. Jake wasn’t half bad looking himself, but he was no Rhett. Jake always considered himself average, but in doing so he downplayed the subtle charm of his boyish looks, tan skin and tousled brown hair. Shorter at 5’9”, you could tell he missed a few days at the gym. He was by no means fat or out-of-shape... in fact, compared to the general population he looked pretty dang good. Jake was just a little soft in the middle, lacking defined muscle tone. "Straight skinny, but gay fat" as the saying goes. This was evident whenever the two would go to gay clubs: it was very apparent who commanded attention on the dance floor. Jake’s relationship with Rhett was complex: they had been best friends since college, but Jake secretly harbored two somewhat contradictory feelings that complicated things: an unhealthy amount of jealousy over his buddy’s good looks—jealousy that was also underscored by a heavy and pervasive lust for his friend. For years, he had fantasized about undressing the studly Rhett, ripping off his tight shirt to reveal Rhett's perky pecs and hard-earned cobblestone abs. When they worked out together it was all he could do to not pop a boner. Just seeing his friend sweat, his muscles bulge with striations as he pumped iron on the bench press was enough to put him under a spell. A spell strong enough to convince him to say yes to a camping trip he *really* didn't want to go on. At Rhett’s insistence, the boys had set up camp near the entrance to a ravine at the base of the Snokeridge Mountains. It provided some shelter from the wind, but the creek had dried up for the season and the closest water source was a slow-flowing river a half of mile from the camp site. The boys had spent their first day hiking to the spot, setting up the tent and then fishing by the river. Even after fishing all day, Rhett had only caught a small little trout; barely enough for one person, let alone two young men who had been hiking all day. “Jake, why don’t you take the fish back to the site and get a fire going. It's not much, but we can eat it with the hot dog buns I brought," barked Rhett. Rhett was in charge of food, which was a mistake considering he's not great with details. Hot dog buns? Got it. Relish? In the cooler. Mustard? You bet. The actual hot dogs? Forget about it. "Sure thing," Jake snapped back, an attitude in his voice. As he went to pick up the fish from the shallow pond Rhett had dug to keep it fresh, Jake tripped and fell head first into the river. "Goddamit!" he yelled, soaking and shivering. He quickly snatched the tiny fish and did an about face toward the mountains, avoiding eye contact with Rhett. "Hey dude, it's not a big deal. The fire will warm you right up," replied a chuckling Rhett. Ticked off by the long haul back to camp and Rhett’s lack of planning, Jake began stomping his way back to camp. Sopping wet and getting colder by the minute, Jake heard his stomach growl. Starting the fire, cleaning the fish... it would be at least an hour before they were ready to eat. "For fuck's sake, I'm never doing this again." About two thirds of the way back to camp, Jake stumbled across a small clearing. In the dead center of the clearing sat a small berry bush standing peculiarly by itself. It stood perfectly straight as if the main branch grew at a 90 degree angle from the soil. Its striking foliage was an interwoven mix of bright green and maroon, and it made a perfectly cylindrical topiary — which was quite odd to come across in the wilderness. It reminded Jake a bit of the perfectly-coiffed rosebushes from the old Alice in Wonderland movie, only there were no flowers for the card soldiers to paint red for their queen. Though odd, it was enchanting. There was no other word for it. Jake approached it carefully, though he didn’t know why. No one was around for miles. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the small bush only produced a few dozen berries, their iridescent purple sheen almost glowing on the branches. He had never seen such brightly colored berries in his life. *gurgle* His stomach growled again. “So hungry...” complained Jake out loud. But they could be poisonous, he thought. What was that old limerick we learned at nature camp? White and yellow, kill a fellow. Purple and blue, good for you. Red, something, something, dead? Jake looked at the berries again. I’ve never seen a more purple shade of purple, truly, he thought. With that, he quickly plucked a handful of berries from the bush, ignoring his normally-reticent instinct and surrendering to his increasing hunger. “Here goes nothing,” Jake said as he downed the handful in one fell swoop, the juice dripping down his fingers. The taste was sweet, but tinged with a heavy musk. It wasn’t bad, per se, just odd. Either way, it satiated his hunger (albeit briefly) and he decided to continue on this journey back to camp, puny little fish in tow. Jake could tell he was nearing the ravine because he entered a familiar thicket of trees. All of a sudden his stomach started making a different kind of noise. This time it was a low rumble instead of a gurgle, and was accompanied by a sense of warmth that he could only describe as prickly. It slowly started to spread across his body. "Oh shit," Jake exclaimed out loud, worried that he had in fact consumed poison. There must be some kind of antidote in our first aid kit, he thought. When I get back I’ll just take it preemptively and hopefully... "Ouch!" Jake's head had hit a branch, odd given that he had been careful to clear the branch just a minute before. He went to rub the goose egg quickly forming on his crown but he realized something felt off with his hands. The warm prickly feeling intensified. Bringing his hands into his line of sight, he noticed the berry-stained fingers on his right hand thickening and lengthening before his eyes. Not to be outdone, his left hand did the same, fingers puffing up into large, masculine digits, the palm of his hand increasingly resembling a large catcher's mitt. "What the fuck..." stammered Jake, thinking perhaps that hallucinations were confirmation that he had poisoned himself. Just then he noticed how tight his boots were. Like painfully tight. Sitting down to remove them, he tugged and tugged at the leather hopelessly trying to free his cramped feet from their prisons. With labored breathing and a surprising show of force and strength, Jake managed to extricate his left foot from the confined space. He was too late for his right foot. *rriiipppp* A large big toe poked through a rip in the leather, followed by two more toes as they lengthened before his eyes. Soggy, threadbare socks strained until the pressure was too much and they too gave way. He couldn't believe what was happening but he welcomed the relief felt by his now-free feet. The prickly feeling intensified, spreading inward from his feet and hands. It was then that Jake noticed his clothes felt tight. His pants appeared to be painted onto his skin and his crotch was... cramped. His nipples, erect from the cold and excitement, poked furiously through the fabric of his wet shirt. His usually modest chest felt rounder, thicker, sturdier than before, jutting out ever just so yet proudly over his torso. Running his hands across his torso revealed a surprise: no longer did he feel soft in the middle. While Jake couldn't feel abs, his stomach was firm and taut. Excited, Jake jumped up quickly to get a look at himself but his quick ascent from the forest floor resulted in his head smacking into another branch. It suddenly dawned on him that he was growing taller. "Holy shit, I’m getting bigger," he uttered in disbelief, rubbing the knot on his head. Jake's large, meaty hands felt foreign to him, as did the thick forearms they were attached to. Rubbing his hairy arms, he was surprised to feel firm biceps, the hardness surpassing any pump he had ever gotten at the gym. He could feel them grow larger, bulging outward and testing the elasticity of his shirt sleeves. Another branch graced Jake's hair. He had to move before he gouged out an eye. It must have been the berries, Jake thought and turned back toward the clearing he had just left. His line of vision, now higher by at least a foot, was dizzy and caused him to stumble clumsily out of the thicket. Away from the trees and in the bask of the evening sunlight, he surveyed himself. Though he could tell by the growth was slowing, he had to be nearing 6'10". The new vantage point startled him, but he wasn't complaining. He had always wanted to be taller. It dawned on him that he was now significantly taller than Rhett. Jake's body—despite being larger and more muscular than just minutes before—still paled in comparison to Rhett's finely-honed physique, but he was happy to have at least one advantage on his friend. As if on queue, Rhett stumbled into the clearing with two fish in hand. "Jake?! What the hell happened?" he stammered in disbelief, dropping the fish on the ground. "I, I don't know man," replied Jake, realizing that his voice had deepened in tone. "I was really hungry, like really hungry, and I know it's stupid to eat things in the wild you know nothing about, but I just couldn't wait for dinner tonight..." he rambled. "So I just ate a handful of these berries," pointing to the bush. "Jake, what a stupid thing to do. But why are you so tall? And big? I... I don't understand," babbled Rhett as he rapidly looked Jake up-and-down, a look of sheer confusion on his face. Truth be told, Jake was liking this new dynamic. For once, Rhett wasn't in control. "Dude, I think the berries did it. I've never seen berries like this before. After I ate them, a warm feeling spread across my body and I started growing. The berries, they like, shine on their own. Take a look," replied Jake. Rhett walked over to the bush, and eyed the berries suspiciously. Jake was right, these were unlike anything he had ever seen. He looked back at Jake and then at the berries once more. A devilish smile spread across his handsome face. Jake immediately regretted telling Rhett about the berries. Jake finally had something he had wanted for ages: an edge over Rhett. He was significantly taller than Rhett, and stronger than he'd ever been. He felt alpha towering over his friend and loved the feeling. If Rhett ate even just a few berries, he would quickly surpass Jake in height and his already studly body would grow and harden into god-like proportions. He couldn't allow that. Rhett reached out to pluck the last remaining handful of berries from the bush. But Jake was too fast. Owing to his now larger limbs and increased strength, it was just a matter of seconds before Jake had tackled Rhett to the ground. "What the fuck, man?!" shouted Rhett, taken aback. "You've... always been... the bigger one," huffed Jake as he struggled to pin down the shockingly strong jock. "I'm... not going to... let you have this on me again!" "You're already... a giant. I just... want... a berry or two," Rhett growled, fighting back. "I want to be... big too!!" The dynamic shifted again and he flipped giant Jake onto his back. However, Jake had a height advantage and used it swiftly. Maneuvering his long legs, he pinned Rhett's torso and flung him on his side. Firmly planting a meaty hand on Rhett's chest to hold him down, he reached his other arm toward the bush and ripped off the branch with the few remaining berries. "For years, it's been Rhett-this and... Rhett-that," hissed Jake. "For ONCE, I'm going to be the center of attention. I want... other guys to lust after ME." "Jake, you're being fucking unreasonab..." Rhett started to say, flailing his arms in vain. "I won't let you have this, you can't have this on me," Jake snarled, years of pent-up jealousy dripping from his lips, a black fury in his eyes. "Jake, don't, just let..." Rhett started to say, but Jake was too quick. He popped every last berry from the branch into his mouth, chewed once and swallowed them en masse. "FUCK YOU," screamed Rhett, as he summoned the strength to break from Jake's firm grasp. Rhett wound his arm back and *WHAM* punched Jake square in the chest. "What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Rhett screamed as he lobbed another blow, hitting Jake in the abdomen. Jake wheezed and toppled back onto the ground, caught off guard by Rhett's swift motion. "You couldn't just let me have one, dude?!" Another blow to the stomach. Jake coughed and sputtered, but then suddenly lay still. "It's happening," Jake spat out between coughs, the warm prickly feeling spreading across his body. "It's happening." Rhett stepped back, not sure of what would come next. Spread out on the ground, Jake's body quivered. First came the feet. The right boot, tattered though still clinging onto his large foot, exploded from all angles as both of Jake's feet doubled in size. Hands grew slowly at first, and then quickly, doubling in size as well. Legs thickened as pound upon pound of muscle packed onto Jake's frame. His pants, fighting a losing battle, gave way to powerfully thick thighs. Arms lengthened sharply, the sinewy veins of his muscles becoming more apparent by the second. Wider and wider his back spread, lats reaching insane proportions and causing his shirt to tear in several places. Jake's tight lower back was lifted from the soft grass and it quickly became clear why: his ass was growing wide, thick, hard and firm. White underwear, dirty from the forest floor, clung on for dear life. Stretched out not only by his increasingly huge bubble butt, Jake's cock stirred to life. It too had grown to match his body and quickly stood at attention, jutting out like a tower, 90 degrees from the beast's growing frame. Thick, juicy abs formed as his torso lengthened and grew hard. His body was becoming nothing short of incredible — the impossibility of his increasingly-giant frame aside, Jake was filling out nicely. He looked like a hardened wrestler and was quickly on his way to becoming an amateur bodybuilder. Rhett couldn't believe what he was seeing. "I, I... don't... what is this?" he stammered, realizing that while scared of his rage-fueled friend, he was also a little turned on by the whole thing. "I'm getting fucking huge!" yelled Jake, sitting up and tearing away the remains of his shirt. "I can feel it, I'm going to be HUGE." Standing up, it was clear that Jake was well over 8' tall. Taller and taller he grew, inching up higher as the muscles of his body reverberated with growth. "Look at me!" he commanded Rhett as he rubbed his inflating pecs. "Look at what a fucking stud I'm becoming!" He laughed maniacally as he reached down with his large hand and with one swift motion ripped off what remained of his underwear. Fondling his balls (now the size of grapefruits) with one hand, he used the other hand to stroke his massive cock. Despite his incredible size of his hands, he could barely fit his mitt around the thick, red member which was spewing pre-cum. Rhett, now sporting a full hard-on, stood there in disbelief. He was now staring directly at his friend's naked body, eye level with his torso and unable to process that it was Jake who stood before him. Jake was lost in the overwhelming pleasure he was getting from stroking his insanely-large cock. He snapped out of the haze when he realized the prickly feeling had stopped and he was no longer expanding in size. With his hand clasped firmly around his cock, he stood massive in the clearing nearly 9' tall — a mountain of a man with bulging muscles everywhere you looked. An sly grin spread across his face. "Suck my cock, Rhett," Jake demanded. "Whaaa... Jake, I don't wa..." Rhett stammered in reply, stepping back. "I don't give a fuck what you want. And your puny little cock is giving you away. You want this," Jake bellowed, pointing a fat finger toward his cock. "Besides, do you really want to piss me off?" Jake took a step toward Rhett, placing his inhumanely large hands on Rhett's back and shoving him toward his pulsing member. Rhett, understanding the predicament he was in and admittedly more turned on than he'd ever been, opened his mouth wide in anticipation. Jake's cockhead, red and angry with a need to release, was the size of an apple and leaking with pre. There was no way his mouth would fit around the swollen glans. "Oh, come on, Rhett. You've been with plenty of guys. You should know how to suck cock properly," Jake taunted. "I cguamph fuiiut iith inh myei..." Rhett tried to spit out the words, his mouth full. "Use your hands, little guy," Jake continued, abruptly shoving Rhett's head another inch onto his massive member. Rhett reached out and started stroking the giant cock. It quivered with each stroke. Jake moaned — deep, guttural and animalistic. He didn't care if anyone heard the noise; he was a god now. "Fuck yeah, Rhett. You're... my little bitch now. How... ohh... does it feel... *grunt*... to be the little one?" Jake stammered between moans. It was clear he was getting close. Rhett was scared. If he could barely fit half of Jake's cock in his mouth, there was no way he was going to be able to swallow his load. He would choke. Rhett was sure it would be massive. He had to think quickly. He reached up and tweaked Jake's large nipple. It was clearly sensitive because Jake started bucking his large hips. Squeezing the cock another inch into his mouth and working it with his tongue, he bobbed up and down and used the other hand to fondle Jack's huge sack. This drove him over the edge. The cock quivered again and the balls tightened. Jake was about to shoot. Before he could unload, Rhett used both of his hands to give one final stroke and then pushed himself off and away from the quivering cock. Jake exploded. "AHhHhhhH!" he yelled in ecstasy as rope after rope of thick cum spewed from his cock. His balls pulsated quickly as he wildly unloaded volley after volley into the clearing, each spurt completely coating large patches of the soft grass. Rhett shielded his face with his arms but could still hear as pump after pump of the thick, creamy jizz landed in the grass around him with a soft and muted plop. With a look on his face that could only be described as somewhere between euphoria and bewilderment, Jake collapsed to the ground. Panting and still dribbling cum from his half-hard cock, he lay there unable to process the explosive orgasm he just had. A few minutes into the daze, he closed his eyes and dozed off to sleep. Uncovering his face, Rhett looked around and was immediately overwhelmed. He too passed out from the shock. The soft grass caught his fall and he was out like a light. As night fell, the two slumbered peacefully next to the bush in the clearing — Jake exhausted and spent from his growth, Rhett stupefied and unsure of what to make of the day's events. Puddles of cum surrounded them, slowly seeping into the ground. An owl hooted peacefully as the moon shone brightly above. ********** Morning light broke and Rhett jerked awake. Images of his friend Jake growing into a behemoth passed through his mind. Still in shock, he was sure that the events of the previous day had just been a weird nightmare. His jaw, however, still hurt from the night before. There's no way, he thought. Turning over, his worst fears were immediately confirmed: the giant form of his friend lay peacefully on the other side of the bush, a slight snore and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was fast asleep. Rhett sat up and his eyes caught the berry bush. He wished it wasn't barren so he too could grow giant and give Jake a taste of his own medicine. Surveying the clearing, it appeared the puddles of cum that had pooled in patches across the grass had disappeared overnight. However, in the dim dawn light Rhett could just make out something peculiar in their place: little seedling shoots sprouted across the clearing, their fledgling stalks a striking mix of bright green and maroon...

You'll find out in the next chapter!

Awww! Thank you, matie! I was particularly excited to share this chapter but obviously didn't want to give anything away! I genuinely had no idea there was a Brazilian bodybuilder by this name - haha! I used that surname for other reasons! Glad you liked it, matie but I've got to stick up for my boys here! Don't forget about the chemistry between Woody and Luke and the fact they're completely besotted with each other! I mean yes Deano has the wonky abs and the chipmunk cheeks but how can that compete with Luke's dimples??

Glad you enjoyed it, matie! And don't worry - I'm gonna make you wait too long for the next one. It's pretty much done save for some final editing so I should get it posted over the weekend!

Hehe! Yeah, mate - a few of you lads on here called it! And as much I love reading people theories and seeing people speculate over what's gonna happen, I have to admit whenever someone questioned Deano's sexuality or suggested he had feelings for Woody there was a part of me that instinctively went, "Nooooo!" But hopefully the end of this chapter was still a surprise to some, if not most of you! As usual - no spoilers as to what happens next or how it all plays out from there!

YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. And i dont think that guy was being cocky. I think eh wants a challeneg and Seth will give him one. This posing session needs to be right after the match. Seth pumped and sweaty body would be the perfect fit for Eric's hands and even tongue lol

Can you please write the ending

(Not sure if this is allowed so if not, mods please let me know/remove this posting) If anyone is feeling generous, I've had a really hard time financially lately despite working 50 hours a week due to wage garnishment from massive debt incurred over the last couple years. I'm not asking for any set amount, but I would appreciate any sort of "tip" you would like to give. It's my hope that I can keep writing and start to publish some of my works so this would give me a good measure of that. http://paypal.me/bgmusclegrowth Thanks again for reading!

Topnotch!

You have a way with your stories. They are engaging and you left us wanting more and more.

Argh!!! No! What a cliffhanger! No offense to Luke, but how do you compete with THAT chemistry that exists between Deano and Woody?! Maybe Luke now jacks up big time and hooks up with Shaun? lol

great story

I KNEW IT! I just fucking knew it! As I said before, there's a very fine line between love and hate. I had a feeling that Deano may have secretly admired Woody. I think Deano is probably more impressed with the fact that Woody is so open about his sexuality, even though Deano doesn't officially know that Woody is gay. I just hope Luke doesn't walk in on that, though. That would be a classic moment, but hopefully Woody tells him what happened later on. It wouldn't be good for him to keep a secret like that. But either way, this should make things more interesting. Maybe Deano and Woody can become friends. Or if not, Woody can probably at least help Deano come to terms with his own conflicted sexuality. Luke too, maybe.

I assume you're only joking about this, even though I would love this idea! Seeing AJ and Noah come to life, on-screen would be great! But the same could be said about 'Muscle University too. Given that the film and television industry is running out of fresh ideas, I think stories like these, involving muscle would be a welcome addition to the industry.

We are GRATEFUL for anything you put out. Love all your stories!

In all seriousness, mate, I would love to write more and faster. I actually thought I'd have had this story finished by now but whatever reason it's taken quite a bit more time to write than AJ & Noah! Maybe I'll try and churn out some short stories after this one but I feel like these longer, novel length stories are what I'm better at.

Sure. I'll get right on that.

Yep! Lots of Deano in the next one. It's like one big velvet trunk, bubble butt and chipmunk cheek fest.

Hello! Thanks for waiting. I've been struggling with some financial issues recently, so I've been doing my best to write this in my spare time. I'm going to be giving a warning as early as now, though, that from the next part onwards, the story will be experimenting with some things I'm not sure necessarily comply with the rules of the forum or the tastes of some forumgoers. I'll be doing my best to write within forum limitations, but if I need to move my story elsewhere, then so be it. For now though, here's the next part. And as usual, if you have any comments, suggestions, or recommendations on the way I write, the way the story is going, or the overall writing, please don't hesitate to take it up with me. Thank you for supporting the story so far, and I do appreciate greatly the comments and advice some of you message me with. I take them to heart and do my best to maintain consistency with your comments. The last thing I want to do is write something subpar. Thanks again, and enjoy! PART 7 Just a few days before the meteor struck, the company we worked at, Haley & Bennett’s, had organized a paid vacation to a remote resort several miles away with the help of Wes, the La Vida Resort. Known for its soft, white sand, it was a hot spot for corporate drones who’d begun to lose sensation in their feet from sitting at their desks all day. Our office was no exception. Although my workload had been relatively light the past few weeks after the meteor, the shit I had to go through outside work was probably just as tiring. Not to mention getting Wes back under control. On official documents, Wes labelled it as a “team-building cooperative retreat.” As early as 4 in the morning on the day of departure, the office had gathered at the bus terminal to load their luggage ahead of time in their respective buses. Wes spearheaded the manpower, making sure everything was arranged for. He’d even planned for the six of us—me, him, Marcus, Froy, Lisa, and Avery—to sit in one bus together. I walked up to him and gave him a quick hug. Although it had already been a few days, it was still comforting to see he was back at his normal size, shorter than I was. As we hugged, the stubble on his face was rubbing hard against my own hairless one. It seemed he was growing it out. “Hey, nice beard,” I said. He winked at me, stroking his beard with his meaty fingers. “Thanks, I’ve been working on it recently. The wife told me she’d never seen me with a beard before, so I guess I decided to maybe forget to shave for once.” “Well, it looks good!” I said. “Matches your eyebrows, really bushy.” “Yeah, I know. She told me to leave it on. Makes me look more like a man, she says. A good role model for Avery.” “Oh, yeah, where is he? Haven’t seen him yet,” I said. “He went to get a coffee.” Wes licked his palm and fixed his hair. “Anyway, he won’t be a problem. What I’m worried about is getting Marcus in here before the others.” Just at that moment, as if by summon, we heard a loud metallic bang coming from the distance. Coupled in the commotion was the distinct sound of grunting. Grunting — of course — that belonged to none other than Marcus himself. In a week, Marcus had grown from 5’11” to 6’9”. None of us had anticipated just how fast he was going to grow. And grow, and grow he did. He arrived at the bus terminal wearing a skintight white crop top and the most obscene pair of yellow speedos I’d ever seen on a man. He might as well have been naked. Where a week ago his body was tight and lithe, with the muscle mass of a runner, he’d grown so thick and massive that his barrellous chest resembled a bull’s. The entire mass of my body was probably only half his torso. When I looked closer, what I thought was a crop top was actually more of an undersized wife beater, pulled all the way up to his pecs by the sheer immensity of his delts, lats, back, and chest. The works. His legs were no different either. No way was he ever fitting into his skinny jeans again. My head was only slightly smaller than his ham-like thighs, round like boulders but hard as… boulders. They were granite. The outline of his cock was pressed tightly against the straining fabric of his speedo, even as the massive head peeked a bulb the size of my fist through the fabric, jutting out like a third leg coming from his waist. His balls were even practically spilling out the sides. With every step he took, his cock would swing like a pendulum, smacking into his thighs. He might as well have been naked. Standing next to him, Lisa looked downright dwarfish. But I guess to Marcus, most of us did. Despite how beach-ready she looked with all her expensive make-up, the weighted eyebags and the way she struggled to walk upright screamed otherwise. She struggled to maintain a smile, waving at me out of formality. “Oh, my god. Would you look at this guy,” Wes said, staring up at Marcus’ cocky face. “He looks like he’s about as heavy as the damn bus.” Marcus waded through the crowd effortlessly as he walked over to us. He was clearly amused at how easily he could knock people out of his way with nothing but his size and weight. It was like watching a living, breathing wrecking ball. With the way he puffed up his already ballooning pecs, people my height were getting their heads grazed as he loomed over us. When he got to the front of the line where Wes and I were standing, he grabbed us both by the back and planted our faces right in his pecs. If I so much as stuck out my tongue, it would’ve been wrapped all over the huge nipple staring right at me. His wife beater had ridden up higher as he hugged us, straining loudly. Every so often, his speedo would also bump into my hand. It took everything I had not to stroke it or hit it away. It felt like a baseball bat. “How’re my best buds doin’ this morning?” Marcus asked. “Suffocating,” I said. “The usual—also suffocating,” Wes said. “You really couldn’t find anything else to wear?” I asked. “‘Course not! I wanted to look my best for you guys, and my best is as close to naked as I can get,” he said, releasing us from the confines of his pecs. “Besides, this is literally all I have left. Nothing else made it past my shoulders, heh.” He shrugged, emphasizing the bowling balls he had for shoulders. I looked over behind him, ignoring the clearly annoyed line, and saw Lisa carrying the lone luggage bag they’d brought. Taking it from her arms, she let out a sigh of relief. She shot me a smile and fixed the strands of hair falling over her eyes. “Oh, thank god.” She smiled at me. “I thought I was going to be carrying that damn thing around all morning.” “Why aren’t you carrying your bag, Marcus?” I asked. “Lisa could’ve died carrying her own body weight around for so long.” “She’s my girlfriend, man. If she’s gonna be with me, she’s gonna need to be able to keep up with all this muscle!” He launched his humongous arms up into the air and nearly hit us in the face with a double bicep pose. His flexed upper arms were as round as some men’s whole guts for fuck’s sake. “I feel like a god right now. Everything in the bag’s mostly Lisa’s stuff. Besides, my things — IF they still fit, which they don’t — would’ve just been thrown into the cargo hold when we got here anyway.” “I don’t think Lisa would’ve appreciated being thrown into the cargo hold, Marcus,” Wes said. “Not much air in there.” “Ha ha,” Marcus said, bending over to laugh Wes in the face. Up close, Marcus’ head was almost twice as big as Wes’. “She’s had to hold her breath longer before, trust me.” Lisa coughed, massaging her jaw. “He’s not wrong. Being with him has gotten a LOT harder since he started getting bigger all of a sudden.” Marcus laughed, booming across the terminal. “What do you mean! I’m just a little bigger, Lisa. It can’t be that much harder.” “Oh, it’s a LOT harder alright. It was hot at first, but now it just hurts!” “Not from the way you moan.” He giggled. “Maybe I should be calling you Moan-a Lisa from now on. Get it? Did you catch the pun?” “Yeah, yeah, discuss your sex life on the bus, guys, you’re holding up the line.” Marcus pushed past us and gripped the entrance with his hands. “So how am I supposed to fit? It won’t break if I get in, will it?” He took one step in. And, boy, was it the longest step I’ve ever experienced. I could hear his speedo strain as he raised his leg. As his flip-flop pressed down on the bus, all of us gasped as the entire bus seemed to shake with as little as a step from Marcus. We were awed. The more he planted his weight, the lower the bus seemed to get. “This isn’t looking very safety checked, you guys,” Marcus said. “We don’t have a choice, Marcus, just get in. If the bus can’t handle your weight, then we’ll have to squeeze some of the others into the other buses.” “If you say so, boss.” Marcus hunched over and squeezed himself sideways as he shoved himself through the doorway. “It’s a bit of a tight squeeze, you guys.” Even sideways, his pecs were getting stuck in the doorway. “It’s not the doorway that’s a problem,” Wes mumbled. Marcus grabbed onto a railing and launched himself inside, nearly breaking off a few chairs as he crashed. His grip had left dents in the doorway where he’d held onto. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like the doorway was attacked by a pack of bears. “Alright, I guess I’ll be sitting at the back!” Marcus said. “Try not to break the bus, god damn it!” Wes said. “Will do, sir—AUGH!” A loud thud came from the bus’ ceiling. “Hit my head.” “Which one?” Wes asked, smiling. “Very funny!” Lisa threw their bag in the cargo and got in. She said she’d keep Marcus in check until we got in. Once Marcus was finally settled in the back of the bus, the line started moving again. I stayed out to help Wes adjust passenger count for Marcus with the other buses. As the lines seemed to disappear across the other buses, Avery and Froy had yet to appear. Neither Wes nor I knew where they were or what they could’ve been doing. It was starting to worry me. There was no way Froy would’ve been late—or worse—bailed completely. He wouldn’t do that to me. “Do you mind going to the coffee shop over there and checking if Avery is in there?” Wes asked. “The only time getting a coffee should take half an hour is if it’s my wife and if she took a bathroom break at some point.” “Sure thing. What’s he wearing?” “I think it was a red hoodie? You should know what he looks like, Dory. He just looks like me except younger and a lot less good-looking. Y’know, just like his mom.” He chuckled. “Hey, don’t tell her I said that.” “Sure, if you double my paycheck.” “Sure, but I’ll fire you.” He winked. “Damn it.” As Wes handled the rest of the lines, I headed into the commercial complex to look for his son. Before this week, I’d never really had a chance to interact with the kid. Wes would rarely talk about his children around work, so when I woke up at his condo and saw Avery, I almost forgot he existed. Now that we were spending a good few days together, I might as well take it as my chance to get close to him. He reminded me a lot of myself at that age: quiet, reserved… above average looks. Cough. The kid was still young, so he could still butter up and lose that boyish face. He still had a hefty head of bed hair, so as long as he managed to keep it, he’d be set. I don’t normally say this, but I do believe if he hit the gym, he’d probably have a good chance of having Wes’ muscled up bod too, if not bigger. Even as skinny as he was now, he already had the frame for it. Unless another meteor came crashing down, there was no way he was ever getting as big as Marcus or Froy. At 5 in the morning, the bus terminal was still pretty empty. It was deserted almost. I could only imagine how mind-numbing it must be to sit at a store all day waiting for a customer. And just when they finally come walking inside, they leave the moment you finally decide to get up. Takes nerve. Upon entering the coffee shop, I could see it was pretty much closed. The AC was still off, and all the lights and machines were still being turned on. Even the barista looked like he needed a good few buckets of coffee before he could open his eyes right. “Hey, excuse me, have you seen a kid in a red hoodie?” I asked him. Crumbs of eye crust fell as he opened his eyes and stared into mine—not at them, in them. “Hm? Ah, I think there mighta been a kid in here like that a few minutes ago. I don’t remember him leaving though.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve been watching the front door all morning, man. I haven’t seen anyone leave yet. I’ve only seen three people come in this morning, including you.” “‘Three’? Who’s the other one?” “Dunno. He was huge though. Probably 6’5” or something. Beefed up too. Looked like he was going to burst out of that black shirt of his any second. No idea how someone that tall packed on that much muscle, ‘specially since he looked like he was about the same age as that kid in the red hoodie you talked about. He even ordered two extra large coffees a few minutes ago.” He brought up the holder containing the two hot coffees. “See?” “Well, where could they have gone? Is the washroom open?” “Yeah. You can go check if you want. I don’t think it’d look very good on my resume if I got fired for having two people die in the washroom on my shift.” “You don’t wanna come with me?” He yawned, raising a cup of coffee and chugging it down. “Nah.” “Well okay then.” “Besides, if that huge kid saw me sneakin’ into the washroom, he’d probably kill me. Honestly, I don’t know what it is they’re feeding kids these days to grow them so damn big.” “Neither do I, mate.” As I approached the washroom round back, I’d already formed a hunch on who that hulking teen could’ve been. It was a bit of a sucker punch, but I had no right in the matter. At the washroom at the back, it was deathly silent. The door knob was surprisingly cold. But standing outside the door, I could hear a faint moaning sound coming from inside. Before I could even turn the knob, the door swung open. Avery, still in his red hoodie, came fumbling out the door. His mouth and hands were still wet. I even caught him massaging his jaw. “Hey, Avery.” He let out a yelp and slammed the bathroom door shut in an instant. His eyes looked like they were popping out of their sockets. He stared at me like a deer in headlights. “Your dad’s been looking for you everywhere. What were you doing in there?” I asked. “Nothing!” He rested back on the door. “It’s nothing…” “Are you sure? The barista said there was another guy in here. Hey, is someone in there?” Avery was silent. The kid couldn’t even look me in the eyes. Sweat was pouring down his face, ruining his groomed eyebrows. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed he was having a stroke. Trying to get something out of Avery would’ve just made things worse. I thought maybe it’d be better to just let him have this as his little secret. I had no doubt in my mind there could have been nobody but Froy in there. The barista’s description fit him too well. I just didn’t expect Froy to be getting so much attention from more than just me. “Guess he was wrong. C’mon, let’s get you to the bus.” But whatever, right? “Okay…” I could probably just ask Froy about it when we got to the resort. Avery waited for me to get to the front door before abandoning his post at the washroom. Once I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, we got to walking back to the bus. He massaged his neck and jaw every now and then — a scenario I knew all too well. The entire time we were walking he couldn’t look me in the eyes or even mouth a word. He was like a ghost. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to be shier than Froy. “Sorry if this is a bit out of nowhere, but could you tell me something?” I asked. Avery looked up at me with drowsy eyes. “What?” “I’ve always wondered, but I didn’t really know who to ask. I know Wes is 31, and you’re 15, so there’s no way your mother now could’ve given birth to you, right?” “She’s… my step-mom.” “Wes never told me that.” “Oh, sorry.” “Don’t be. Did you ever get to meet your real mother?” “Only twice. I was 8 the last time. Dad said she was never coming back.” “What was her name?” “Olivia.” When we got about half-way out of the commercial complex, Wes yelled out to me from a distance. “Dory, hurry up! Everyone’s getting pissy!” he yelled. Keeping Wes waiting was the last thing I wanted to do. He may not have had any physical power over me, but he still held my paycheck. “Got it, Wes!” I took Avery by the hand and ran with him over to the bus. Avery and I entered first before Wes. As soon as we got on the bus, all eyes were on us. It felt like I’d killed someone. I wasn’t sure if I was covered in guts or what. And seeing Marcus’ hulking form sitting at the very end of the bus made it feel like we were peasants approaching the king at his throne. As Avery and I twisted our way through the bus, I couldn’t quite comprehend how Marcus almost seemed to be getting bigger the closer we got. His massive legs were spread out, easily occupying two seats worth of space, allowing his speedo to stretch to its limits as his cock seemed to struggle for space through the fabric. The urethra and veins on his cock were visibly strained. It was still unbelievable how thick he was, nearly as thick around as my own forearm if not thicker. When we finally got to the back, Marcus was staring me down — way down — as he smirked. His massive arms were nesting behind the headrests, nearly reaching both ends of all five seats. His crop top looked just about ready to burst with how bloated his pecs seemed to be. They jutted out nearly five inches from his chest. Even his nipples looked oversized compared to the rest of him. His torso was so massive that his lats were already taking up space from the two seats at his sides. Whoever sat next to him was gonna have a hell of a time sleeping next to his mountains of muscle. Poor Lisa. “About time you guys got here!” he said. “Let’s get to the beach before I burst out of these damn clothes!” He raised up his arms again into a double bicep pose, running his tongue around his right bicep as he teased. “I swear it feels like you just keep getting bigger every time I see you,” I said. “Maybe ‘cause I am?” he asked. “Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this as much as I do, Dory.” Lisa was barely awake, on the window seat of the back row. She knew she was never going to get decent sleep if she took the seat next to Marcus. Literally just his breathing would’ve bothered her all ride. The poor girl didn’t know what she had coming when she dated Marcus. But to be fair, none of us had any idea what we had coming. Avery’s eyes were filled with fear and worry as he kept his eyes locked on Marcus’ size 16 feet. Behind us, Wes was throwing in our bags in the overhead containers, grunting in annoyance. I was so engrossed in Marcus that I didn’t even realize we were still standing in the way. “Alright, Avery you sit over here with me,” Wes said, directing Avery to two of the seats on the right. “And you Dory get the seats next to us there. If Froy ever gets here, he’ll sit with you.” “Oh, yeah! Where is the little guy?” Marcus asked. “I thought you said he was coming?” “He is. I just don’t know where he is… now. I called him an hour ago, and he said he was on his way here.” “Well, we can’t keep everyone here waiting on us much longer,” Wes said. “If he doesn’t get here in the next few minutes, we’ll have to leave him behind.” “Aw, come on, boss. Let’s give ‘im a chance. Call him up again, Dory. Maybe he’ll pick up this time,” Marcus said. I dialed his number again — hopefully for the last time this morning. As each dial tone sounded, my worry grew exponentially. As I was about to give up, a heavy knocking sound came from the door. “Oh damn, did he make it?” Marcus asked excitedly. “That better be him,” Wes said, resting Avery’s sleepy head on his shoulder. The bus doors swung open, and I was filled with relief when the disheveled brush of black hair appeared. As Froy entered the bus, I could see he was also struggling to enter due to his newly grown muscles. Although not as much as Marcus, his lats and shoulders were flaring out far just as wide. He was bumping into the walls and railings, struggling to squeeze up the narrow staircase. Instead of his narrow waist helping, it only worsened his imbalance. When he finally got up to the corridor, I saw that he was still somewhat sweaty, smiling at me with a wide grin as he panted. His sweat caused his black shirt to cling to the curves of his muscles, exposing every crevice and detailing his nipples through the thin fabric — a second skin. Unsurprisingly, his clothes didn’t fit. All that fit was his belt around his 30” waist. He was about as awkward with his sex machine of a body as a newborn horse trying to run a marathon. His sleeves rode up to his armpits, and the hem of his shirt barely hit his Adonis’ belt, exposing his bottom row of lean abs whenever he so much as took a breath. In his right hand, causing his bicep to swell into a globe under his skin, was a cardboard holder with two coffees; in the other, his luggage bag. The poor kid looked terribly lost but kept his eyes locked on me. “Hello, sir! Sorry I’m late, I had—uh—I got us some coffee!” he said, grinning nervously. “Just hurry up and get over here!” Wes said. “We’ve gotta go right now if we’re gonna make it there on time.” “Oh, relax, your bosses aren’t here to scold you, are they?” Marcus said. “...Are they?” “At least try to keep yourself decent until we get there, Marcus, please,” I said. “Get over here, Froy. Sit next to me.” “Yes, sir!” He nodded. Maneuvering through the narrow corridor, everyone could feel his struggle. The seats were too close together, and the overhead cargo bins were way too short — for him anyway. His broad torso and thick legs were having a hard enough time finding their way through to me as is without the coffee and the luggage in his hands. He bit his lip in his struggle, keeping his eyes on me and smiling excitedly, clearly eager to take his seat next to mine. A few feet away, catastrophe struck. The driver hadn’t realized Froy was still standing as he started the bus. Without warning, he fell over next to me in the walkway on his knees. The hot coffee spilled all over his black shirt, causing him to panic and grunt. He was flexing every muscle he had in an attempt to strip. In his pained panting, he hurriedly threw off his shirt, exposing his smooth, lightly tanned torso to us at the back. He was a work of art. His muscled arms were 20” around, prominently bulging from under his skin due to his leanness. And despite a 56” chest, his pecs were still baby smooth even with the toughness and heft of his muscle. They protruded from his rib cage almost like breasts, with nipples as oversized and inviting as Marcus’, almost like miniature plates. “Damn, little guy, guess you’re gonna have to stay shirtless all the way to the resort. It’s a dream come true for you, Dory,” Marcus said. “Oh, shut up.” “Oh, god, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean it, I swear. It was just an accident—“ “It’s fine, Froy! Just, come on, sit next to me before something else happens. Avery, could you help Froy with his bag please?” I asked. “Oh—oh, okay,” Avery mumbled. Froy nodded, grunting in my ear as he pushed himself up off the ground. His towering form loomed over me, blocking out the light and showcasing his glistening muscles in his shadow. His abs were perfect, like round cobblestones shifting under his skin. Even as he sat himself next to me, his abs stood out like a gut. The entire seat quaked as he did. As he adjusted himself in his seat, clearly way too big to sit properly, I was being crushed against the window by his hefty upper arm and torso. It definitely hurt, but I loved every second. I looked down and saw that his legs looked like they were about to explode right out of his white shorts. I had to help him squeeze himself into his seat, groping his sweat- and coffee-soaked muscles as he moved in. “Sorry, sir. This seat’s just a bit tight,” he said. “Is it okay if I rest my arm on you? I don’t know where to put it.” “Yeah, go ahead, big guy. You’ll be my own personal seatbelt.” Resting his heavy arm over my head, the smell of his armpits showered me like cologne. “Ah, thank you, sir.” He smiled down at me. “I hope you don’t mind if I’m a bit sweaty.” “Don’t worry so much, Froy, honestly. I don’t mind anything you do. Just do what you need to do to get comfy.” “Shit, you make it sound like you’d let him do anything to you if he wanted,” Marcus said. “What — no!” Froy laughed, blushing, his body bumping into me with each chuckle. My head was locked between his shoulder and the window like a nut in a nutcracker. If I stuck my head out, it would’ve been pressed against his chest instead. The smell of his deodorant was extra pungent without his shirt. All I could smell was Froy’s iconic maple-scented deodorant in my nose, and mixed with the scent of coffee, it was taking all my willpower to avoid licking him clean. “Okay, save it for the resort, boys. We’re technically still at work.” Wes yawned. “If you haven’t noticed, everyone’s been dead silent listening to you guys. I hope you understand all complaints go straight to me.” “Sorry, Wes. We’ll behave.” “Sorry, sir,” Froy said. “Mr. Boss finally taking charge over here!” Marcus yelled. “Dad, please…” Avery mumbled. “What‘s with all that noise?!” Lisa cried. With that, we were off. It wasn’t long before we got to the highway and finally escaped the city. Although quiet to start, everyone in the bus soon began to lighten up. It wasn’t long before everyone in the office was laughing and chatting in small groups. For the most part, the topic was mostly work. Understandably, of course. We were all going on a retreat for a good number of days and wouldn’t be able to work. Rushing a week’s worth of work was an unpleasant reality we were all trying to drown out with the prospect of piña coladas at the beach. Marcus told stories to Wes and Avery about his sexual conquests with Lisa, making sure detail every which way he tore her apart. As the memories flooded back to her, I wasn’t surprised to see she’d repressed most of them. Wes was partly listening and partly on his phone. Avery’s face screamed terror and disgust, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued by Marcus’ stories. Froy, on the other hand, was trying his best not to press me against the window too much. His round ass was partially hanging off the seat, and his arm only seemed to be increasingly heavy as time went on, weighing down on me. I looked up at him, struggling to stay awake — the poor thing — and stared at his pecs. His chest, no matter how many times I’d seen it, always seemed to arouse me. He groaned, calling my balls to action, yet he stayed asleep. Instead, something else awakened in him. Through his size-too-small beach shorts, I could see the strong outline of his cock growing, snaking, down his thigh. Just as I thought it’d swollen to its largest, it only continued to grow in girth and length. Eventually, the head of his cock emerged from the bottom and flared free. It was so plump, so round. I couldn’t help myself; I had to stroke it. As my hand ran its fingers across its pink flesh, a silent moan exited his mouth. In that instant, I could’ve sworn his cock swelled yet another impossible inch longer. With my other hand, I couldn’t even wrap around the girth of his cock through his shorts. He’d grown thicker than my whole hand could hold. It was unfortunate timing when he decided to lower his arm and rest his heavy hand right on my crotch. In a second, I was fully erect, all 5” of me. Comparing mine to his made his look like it was almost four times as big, easily 10” long at least. At least. On his second groan, I knew I had to stop. It was way too early to be getting in trouble with Wes. After I carefully lifted Froy’s heavy hand off me and rested it back around my shoulders, I took a moment to gather myself. Why was I feeling so out of control lately? Surely, years of working around Marcus would’ve numbed me of my lustful thoughts by now. Marcus was at the back, comfortably sleeping. It seemed he’d pooped himself out trying to get Wes and Avery to listen. Who would’ve thought all it took to knock him out was to ignore him. Lisa was behind us, staring emptily out the window. If I focused in on her, I could hear the rock music blaring from her earphones. She looked even more exhausted than Wes or Marcus combined. Wes and Avery had fallen asleep too. Thoughts flooded through my head as I stared out the window. Especially the one that’s never left my head — the same question that’s been clawing at me, in me, for the past three weeks. Just what was it with that meteor? As far as I could tell, there was nothing common about any of the supernatural changes happening with my co-workers except that they all had the ability to grow. And grow. And grow. Could there have been others? As I was finally getting drowsy, I heard a loud tearing noise come from behind me. My stomach fell out my ass when I realized it could only have been Marcus. I turned around in my seat, knocking away Froy’s big arm, and peeked over. He’d been silent the entire trip so far. In fact, everyone but me, Lisa, and the driver were probably dead asleep. Even Lisa had taken off her earphones. “What was that noise?” she asked. “You heard it too?” I asked. “Yeah.” Before I could even reply, there was another noise, confirming that it did come from Marcus. A small tear had appeared in his wife beater’s collar. He groaned loudly, unmoving, blinking lightly, waking up to the sound of his clothes tearing. “What…?” “Holy — your clothes!” Lisa exclaimed. All three of us looked down at his barrel chest and saw that the crop top that had barely been containing his ballooning pecs before was tearing apart right in front of our eyes. From his collar bone, the tears continued to ride down the crevice of his pecs, pulling apart his wife beater. He was visibly growing out of it. We could see his torso seemingly expanding in girth as he took up more and more space in his seats. “Holy shit! Are you guys seeing this?!” he asked us, grinning from ear to ear. His head grew ever so slightly, making him appear even taller. “Oh, no, not again!” Lisa said. “Oh, baby! I can’t believe it!” he yelled. “I’m actually bursting out of my clothes!” As he laughed, I could almost feel the bus tremble as he swelled ever so slightly bigger all over. He was just a little bit taller, a little bit bigger, a little bit broader, wider, heavier… and a whole lot more naked. “It’s a damn good thing we aren’t at a bar this time,” Lisa said. Marcus whistled. “What, is all this growing scaring you, babe?” He raised up an arm that looked as big as my whole leg to reach out for her. Then, out of nowhere, he froze in place. Another set of tearing noises sounded off in the silence. His lats had torn through his wife beater with his expanding torso underneath his armpits; coupled with his engorged pecs, the wife beater had been torn to a pile of rags that hung desperately over his delts. His concrete pecs protruded from his rib cage like generous slabs of meat. And his shoulders and nipples weren’t left behind either. As everything on Marcus’ body had a quick growth surge, they probably grew most next to his chest. I was almost afraid to compare the size of my head to his biceps or shoulders, afraid of knowing that they were actually as big if not already bigger. “Holy shit, it actually happened. It literally just fucking happened!” I looked down and saw that he was getting hard. Marcus was getting off on the fact that he was growing so damn much and was only growing faster by the day. It was a miracle his waist had barely increased or else his speedo would’ve definitely popped straight off, reduced to nothing but a thong on him at this point. They had been sunk into the deep valleys of his muscled thighs and ass. His erection had erupted from his speedo, climbing up his abs in record speed. He held out his hands in a vain attempt to cover himself up, but it was clear he was giving a half-assed effort, wanting nothing more than to show off his new assets. His bulbous pecs were giving him a difficult time getting his huge 28” arms raised in front of him. “Oh, fuck me, I can’t cover all this up!” He grabbed onto his huge dick, even bigger than Froy’s by a wide margin. It was easily over a foot long. “Just look at this!” From next to me, I saw that Marcus’ yelling had woken up everyone else. Froy looked down at me with sleepy eyes, rubbing them. “What’s happening, sir?” “Marcus! What did you do?!” Wes yelled. “Oh my god!” Avery whispered. Froy turned his head around, hitting me in the chest with his elbow. As he turned to see Marcus reveling in his form, Froy’s eyes bugged out. Marcus smiled at Froy. “Can you believe you used to look so big to me? Fuck, look at me now, man! Even though you’re growing too, you just keep getting smaller and smaller every time I look at you! If Fonz saw me now, he’d straight up shit himself!” Froy was dead silent. He gripped my hand and slowly crushed it in his fingers. Even as I winced in pain, Froy never faltered. “I can’t believe you already tore up your clothes before we even got to the first stopover, Marcus. How the hell are we gonna get you out of here now?” Wes asked. Marcus stretched out his arms and shot us the biggest double bicep pose the world had ever seen. “Naw, boss. What you should really be worrying about is how you’re gonna get me back in on the way back!” “Oh, god,” Lisa whimpered. As the entire bus seemed to stare at Marcus in awe, just as he was touching himself, stroking himself, almost calling us to worship him, it was at that moment that I thought that that would’ve been the craziest thing to happen to us all trip. However, I could not have been more wrong. A lot can happen in three days. And it seemed the universe was going to make sure of it.

I of not had time to write in this diary for weeks! Working out almost every day now, if I include cardio days: Weit training morning and night two times a week. That means six weigt workouts a week + one cardio day, and still two days for rest. Its when you rest you GROW. My article came back. They will not print it: "An anthropological study about viking symbolism in contemporary Scandinavian gym- and strongman milieus doesn't belong to literary studies", they say. "Åarticipating observation doesn't belong to the toolbox of the theory of literature", they say. To hell wiv the journal. Bempa is great. He and Uffe had another of their quarrels a week ago. Uffe was ranting about gays being too visible in society and media these days. Bempa surprised both me and Uffe by coming out of the closet, so I felt comfortable to mention that I'm bi. Uffe was silent. Then he told us that it is impossible, because neither Bempa or me behave gay. Uffe's got idiotic ideas about what it means to be gay or bi, and we told him so. The company witch sells Gro Bro Pro and those awesome hypno files sent me a e-mail about a competition. Customers using there products are invited to send them before and after pics. It didn't occur to me that I could compete, but I mentioned the competition to Bempa, and he convinced me to send the pics in. I donät expect it to leed anywere. One of the men behind the counter at our gym demanded a urine sample from me too weeks ago but it came back negative. Now he shut up about steroid abuse, the bloody wanker. Bempa tells me that the suspicion wasn't entierly unfounded: Bempa says it looks like I'm growing much faster than I should. Faster than I should? If I could grow faster than this, I would try to, but my results are truly incredible. My pecs and shoulders and traps devour all nutrision I eat and transform food into HARD BRAWN, and I never dreamed that my back could look like this. I'm an ecto, right? Im overcoming my obstacles. Defeating my obstacles. Breaking them down and triumphing and expanding and GROWING and BULGING of STEEL-HARD BRAWN. Life is becoming real ace. Never dreamed that THIS could look back at me when I look in the mirror: A boot-clad, denim-clad fucking VIKING with BRUISER MUSCLE.

Had the laser surgery on my left eye before weekend, and avoided workout. Called home to parents, wishing them a good All Hallow's weekend. They lit candles on grandparents' graves, as expected. Uffe and Bempa were preoccupied with relatives. Took a stroll in one of the local graveyards: Candle flames in the dark. Removed my protective thing over my eye, and put a contact lens in my right eye. Feel unusual, but I am able to see without glasses, which is awesome. I look less bookish now. Surgery of the remaining eye will probably happen during winter. Still struggling with the article. The hypno audio files are supposed to increase my training motivation and hasten my recovery after workouts, but for some reason they also make me horny and cause me to explode in cum during the part of the files I never remember afterwards. I don't complain, but it is strange that I don't remember what happens during a session, and what it is that causes that reaction. Even if I try to listen to a file without relaxing, my memory go blank.

Uffe didn't have the time to join us at the gym. He and his Missus were shopping food at the supermarket, because of the All Hallows' weekend. They will have relatives visiting them. Bempa and I worked out. Incredible pump. Got a hardon in the shower, and was able to hang my big towel on my dick. Caused Bempa to laugh. Ripped my shirt-sleeves when I dressed. Bempa stared. I was annoyed, but when the harm was done already I flexed and let the damage continue to the end. Feels like I'm the bloody Hulk. I had left my compression shirt in my training trunk by mistake, so I was able to dress anyhow. Bempa liked that too. I need another jersey soon. A baggier one.

Work from home. Sun rose at about 7.30. a.m. Better than how friends up north have it. Found it hard to continue writing on the article. Drank at lot of water to re-hydrate, but then I needed some coffee. A breakfast omelette and some horse-meat. Strange, that people shun horse-meat abroad. Has something to do with Iron Age history and vikings. Vikings! Horse-meat is becoming increasingly impopular here too, because the increasing popularity of horse-riding. Otherwise, it's a valuable source of protein, and low in fat. Relatives down south will eat geese in a few weeks, but I will probably not have the time to go there. Laser eye surgery company called. They had a cancellation, and were able to offer me surgery on my left eye, Friday, if I accepted the offer immediately. Which I did. Feel restless. Listened to a few hypno audio files. Feel motivated again. Feel fucking literally INVINCIBLE! No workout scheduled today, have to give my muscles some time to rest and GROW, so I took a jog. Better afford some time for outdoor running, while the ground is still free from ice. When it becomes slippery, it's probably better to use the treadmills at the gym. The yellow leaves look sad now, most have fallen off, and the remaining ones are eaten by insects or slowly decomposing where they are, except for some of the birches who are sturdy. Miss gym somehow: The scent of steel, the scent of rubber mats, the noises. The clunk and chime of weights hitting weights. People grunting. Staff repairing equipment or maintaining one or another detail. The background music. Coffee and amino drinks in a corner. The shared unspoken goal of becoming healthier, leaner, bigger, harder. At least among the men. The elderly ladies goal is to follow the suggestions of their physiotherapists, and decrease their back pain after many years of hard work: An impressive generation. They built the wealth of this country, but they paid with back injuries, and fat cats got away with the wealth these women had generated. Society is better than it was one hundred years ago, but it isn't fair. It isn't fair enough. Miss Bempa and Uffe, too. Especially Bempa. Uffe can be trying when he is drunk or when he begin to talk politics. Bempa's a reliable rock of a man, with a great sense of humour. Sounds like he's closer to my political ideas too. Wasn't sure in the beginning: Friendly alright, but he looked he could have been a Nazi, and it was only after awhile he expressed something that sounded like Labour o the Left. probably not Green, I guess. If Bempa and Uffe hadn't known each other since school, they probably wouldn't have been mates. If Bempa hadn't told me about apolitical skinheads, BRUTUS1's remarks about that skinhead look would have caused me to tell him go fuck himself, but now I understand. It's a really misunderstood subculture, because the Nazis tried to hi-jack it in 1982 and afterwards. The general public doesn't get what apolitical or leftist skins are about: The music, the concerts, the sense of style, the deep male friendship and loyalty Bempa speaks a lot about. I don't consider myself a skin. I'm probably too old to become one now, but Bempa is. It would be fun to see the face of The Dean if I went for the full skinhead look at campus. Uffe's got another style: more beard, less care about his choice of clothes, but a similar attitude. Friendship isn't necessarily about shared opinions. Bempa and Uffe is an example of that: bantering each other about the different sides they have taken on immigration. But both are decent blokes, Uffe despite his flaws. The working class is more honest, more sincere, doesn't pretend. I didn't see it that way, when I left my hometown for university. Dad could have been right out of a John Osborne play: "So working in the factory is not good enough to you? Literary studies? That wouldn't pay the rent, would it?". My old school mates stayed: I've seen them a few times since: Broken, disillusioned, conforming to the expectations of a milltown, devoid of personality. But Bempa is different. Honest. Decent. Alive. Hard-working. Sense of duty. Tries to be the best idea of what it is, to be a man. Old-fashioned working-class ideals. Strange that he isn't married with kettle and lids already. Lots of women would like Bempa – but probably not the women I usually meet at my workplace. They would probably better go along with hipsters reading Butler and Baudrillard. Or pretending to read Butler and Baudrillard. Or pretending to have read Butler and Baudrillard long before anyone else. Thought about the administrator. She's cute. Didn't know what a ravenous lioness hid behind that shy and brainy exterior. Liked what she called me. I don't want to become like the cocky, sporty lads back in school days, because some of them were really obnoktious, but it feels like I'm not myself. Can it be a side effect of Gro Bro Pro? No, thats totally impossible. I'm just exploring who I am. I had more inside me than what I knew. Confident stallion. Give in. I know I like it. I know I want to let that part of myself out. But what if...? No ifs! I will give in. I will turn into... Uh. What's happening? Yes, look at those guns in the mirror! Look at this hung, cocky, buzzcut muscle beast!

Thank Deity, that I am able to schedule my hours as I wish, during the break. I need to recover from that Halloween party. And some other things. Spent the entire morning writing on the article: A few words about the imagined past before 1811, but the main part of it describe and analyse the time 1811-today. The concept of the viking became a standard character in the Swedish imagination because a poem written that year. Scheduled my workout to lunchtime, and arrived with my training trunk and laptop to campus in the early afternoon: Pumped, satisfied by my after-workout lunch, right out of the shower, and already wearing the compression shirt I had chosen for the Halloween party. I continued to write, but had some administrative things to do, so I went to the department where the administrators work. The Dean was at a vacation with his family, and it seemed like several of the administrators were at vacation. The passageway with the office doors seemed almost deserted. Our admin was there, though. She took my documents, and promised to run them tomorrow (today), and suggested a coffee break (which is called fika here). I accepted, but I felt awkward when our fika habits diverged. She had sugar and milk in her coffee. I drink it black, unsweetened. She had a cinnamon roll, I avoid unnecessary fat and sugar. Which brought us to the topic of physical exercise. She joked, that she wouldn't have expected me to grow into a muscle hunk, and I didn't know what to say. Muscle hunk? I? She looked suggestively at my compression shirt, and what it revealed, and she began to stroke my forearms. Since I remained shy, she literally dragged me into the bathroom, and she seemed to like it, when another part of my mind erupted and took over the situation. I have never felt like a confident jock before, and it was actually years since I had sex with a woman (men more recently). It was like I had hidden another personality inside me all the time. When I demonstrated my strength, by lifting her up against the wall, she lost control. We fucked like two bloody happy animals, and then, giggling, moved to the shower in the cellar. The halloween party was a rather sober affair. I suppose Swedish prices on wine and beer has something to do with it (though it is more expensive in Norway). Witches and computer game characters seem to be popular among the foreign exchange students. Some of the bright young things giggled over my Captain-America-shirt, some of the lads wanted exercise advice. I explained about how All Saints and All Souls are moved to Saturday and Sunday here, and advised them to spend time outdoors during lunchtime in winter, in order to avoid seasonal depression. They are not used to our winter. Sun sets about 4 p.m. now, and it will become worse. Some of the Americans, Irish and British seemed to be unused to Protestants celebrating All Saints and All Souls, so I had to explain about Lutherans, too: Five or six saints' annual feast days were retained at the Reformation, and have never been abolished. An I mentioned Saint Lucy – they haven't experienced a Saint Lucy pageant before, and probably will in December. Weird for a mainly Agnostic country to keep all these folk customs connected to saints.

Aww yeh man, lookin bigger and tougher now. Skin head type buzz cut totaly suits you man. Good that you agreed with Bempa so quick when he suggested it. Always love the feel of fresh buzzed head. Makes me feel so fukin tough. Yu might wanna try on a pair of tight bleached jeans if you can find a pair that dont split at the seams when yu pull them on. Keep listenin to the hypno files bro - you r gettin alot of positive attitude changes from them.

Followed Bempa home after our workout. He cooked some rice and tuna. Nothing fancy, but filling, and full of protein. Need protein. Growth. He suggested I would look better in a buzzcut, and showed me his electric hair cutter. It felt nice to have the hair on my head removed. I agree with Bempa. This looks better. Like to feel the stubble on my head. Like the look of it. Tougher. Told Bempa I had to reschedule workout tomorrow, because of the Halloween Party. Bempa wasn't aware of, that it is Halloween tomorrow, since we move All Hallow's Eve to Friday here in Sweden. We agreed to work out together in Thursday. Have taken my ZMA and Gro Bro Pro. I will listen to the hypno audio files now before I go sleep. I like the audio files. Makes me motivated. Feel more confident. Feel more sporty. More Alpha. More Bro. Feels good. Need to listen to hypno audio files. Makes me feel connected to the inner core of my masculinity. So hard. So built. So jock. So Alpha. Feels good. So motivated. I will re-build and re-shape myself. Physically and mentally. Re-shape. Bigger now. Like to be bigger now. And harder now. Pump after gym. Like pump. So much testo after a workout. So much testo when I'm asleep. I'm a testo factory. Yeah: A real testo factory pumping and pumping around circulating testo in my body. Re-building me. Fuck. So good.

Snow was falling, when I went home from the gym tonight, but, to be honest, it was closer to sleet, and it melted the same second it hit the ground, so real winter isn't here, yet. Summer Daylight Saving Time ended tonight, so we all had one more hour for sleep tonight. Lots of talk about the Reformation on radio, because of the 500 year jubilee this week. To some, Luther was a defender of individualism (but I don't believe in that interpretation, due to how he treated the Anabaptists). To some, Luther was the founder of capitalism (but I think they actually mean Calvin, rather than Luther). To some, Luther was a foul anti-semite (which is true, but it isn't the entire picture). They also told the listeners, that a cultural divide runs through Europe somewhere between Saxony-Anhalt and Bavaria. Perhaps it does. Surprised to hear that much about Luther in a highly secularised and Agnostic country, but it's Sunday. Didn't have the stamina or intellectual vigour to listen to all of it, so I switched it off after some easy listening by Telemann. Under normal circumstances I prefer punk rock. Uffe and Bempa joined me at the gym this afternoon. I felt very energised, and Uffe and Bempa had at least recovered from Friday night. My jerseys had become dry after yesterday's laundry, when I arrived home. Cotton last longer if you don't tumble dry. Some tuna and asparagus after workout. Will probably boil a few eggs later. Elk hunting season peaked a week or two ago, and relatives will probably give me some venison in a few days. Great protein source. Have to try one or two of the hypno audio files before I go to sleep tonight.

I normally write once a day, but I clicked on that link and tested that audio file, and had to buy the other ones. It felt like I went asleep, but I remember some of the instructions, and I feel such a drive to exercise now. I will go to the gym in the middle of the night (all members get a 24/7 key tag) and make an extra workout. This hypno shit seem to work. Perfectly legit. Feel so confident, and I have an urge to improve myself. To tell you the truth: In the end of the hypno session I creamed my pants by listening to it. You are only allowed to test the free audio or buy the entire line of audio files if you are a regular subscribing customer of the product Transmute Androbolic Ultra Gro Bro Pro Extra Plus. I can recommend it to all my friends. If you subscribe to use Transmute Androbolic Ultra Gro Bro Pro Extra Plus for at least three months you will be given a free Gro Bro Pro hypno audio file, and will be eligible to buy all the other hypno audio files for a discount. You will recommend Transmute Androbolic Ultra Gro Bro Pro Extra Plus and the hypno audio files to all your friends. Transmute Androbolic Ultra Gro Bro Pro Extra Plus help you to recover faster, and increase your gains, but it is also one of the best pre-workout supplements on the market. The deeper you go, the better you feel. The better you feel, the deeper you go. I'm an Alpha. You're an Alpha. I'm becoming a jock now. You're becoming a jock now. Nothing cares, except for becoming bigger and achieve lean, huge muscles. I don't mind, that the increased levels of testosterone makes me stupid. You don't mind, that the increased levels of testosterone makes you stupid. Everything that matters, is THE GROWTH. Everything that matters, are huge, well-defined, bulging MUSCLES. Edit: Just ignore the paragraph above. I don't even remember writing it. But the products are good. I can recommend them. Away to the gym now. Love to work out in the middle of the night, when there are no queues to the machines and free weights. I lust for the contact between my pecs and the cable stand. It's almost erotic in nature. Just my pecs and the cable stand. Contact. Tearing all these muscle fibres apart, knowing, that my rest, my food and my supplements will repair them even STRONGER, BIGGER, HARDER.

Thanks bro. Like your encoruagement. Rest day today, so I have time to recover from my hangover. And cheat day, so I indulged in some crisps, and I added some greasy sauce to the chicken. Next training week begins tomorrow. I'm beginning to feel so incredibly built, so thanks for the encrgement. I really appreciate it. Found a Captain-America-themed compression shirt in a shop today, so I've solved what to wear on that dress party. I have to pay rent, and I really liked literary theory when I was younger. It does pay the rent, but I have to admit, that the salary of a lecturer is lower here than in many other parts of the world.. At first I thought it was spam, but I've got a message from the company who sell me my Gro Bro Pro. They offer me a free hypnotic audio file called Gro Bro Pro Hypno, and if I like it, I will be able to buy the five other audio files in that line for a discount. I accepted. Will listen to the audio when I go to sleep. It's supposed to increase my motivation, or something.

Dude I love yur updates. Just my opinion man, but I think yu are getting closer now. Best advice i can give yu is to not worry about all that research shit. Take care of yur gains if yu wanna be a proper hulking Viking, lol. Hope yu didnt get a real bad hangover but just go lift to get through it, rite? Also bro, dont worry about shit on TV - my gym buddies told me its all made up anyways.

The stores are decorating with pumpkins, grave wreaths, votive candles and heather, otherwise Halloween and All Souls are not particularly noticeable. Cant't find a proper subject matter for the research article. Not Stiernhielm. Not Kellgren. It's like 17th and 18th century authors have lost all their appeal to me. Weird. I love training chest! The pump! My chest scattering all resistance as I walk around in a crowd! And I can eat eggs now! A chicken, an omelette and some salad before bed, not forgetting my ZMA and Gro Bro Pro.

Weight-training consists of one-third workouts, one-third food and one-third sleep. Rest day today. Campus is more thinly populated today, as the students are leaving for Autumn Break. Strong winds today, but I feel heavier than ever. I can take strong winds. I hope, that the wind doesn't affect the railways or the long-distance bus-lines. Lots of surprises today. Physician surprised me. I can leave all medication out, except for an asthma-medicine only taken in case of an urgency. Haven't been any urgency for some time, now. I seem to have recovered from all food allergies, so I'm free to eat egg and dairy now. We all know, what that will mean. MORE PROTEIN = MORE GROWTH. Need to grow bigger. Urge to grow stronger. Eager to grow beefier. Wow! What's happening to me? Haven't felt like this before. Two of the foreign exchange students surprised me, by inviting me to a Halloween party. They have no opportunity to return home over the short break, and will stay in Sweden. I hope it will not be boring for them not to meet their fellow students for awhile. Weather isn't inviting to stay outdoors, this time of the year. Bempa called. He and Uffe will go to the pub Friday evening. It will be my first time out with them. Nice, decent blokes. I bought myself my first box of snus today. After giving Bempa's snus a try, I was hooked. I have been thinking about laser surgery of my eyes. Contact lenses cost a lot, and glasses are an inconvenience. I don't know how I look without glasses. Right. Just an omelette and some peanut butter before bed-time, and then sleep. Oh, well, yes: Have to remember to take my Gro Bro Pro.

Sleet turned into heavy rain rather quickly, so the snow-warning was exaggerated. Nice yellow and red leaves in the parks during lunch break. Unusually warm weather: Briefly dipped to 3, but then returned to 9 Centigrades. Did a bad job today, leading the seminar on European authors after Die Wende 1989. Wished my students an enjoyable Autumn Break: They have to work on an essay during the remaining week, during the break and during the beginning of the week thereafter. This will give them an opportunity to visit parents for a couple of weeks, and I will have time to write a research article. Met the administrator on my way out. She gave me an ambiguous look. Don't know what that was supposed to mean. Met the Dean too. I don't know why, but there was something disapproving in his gaze, but he didn't say nothing. Although my university hasn't had a dress-code for work since the 1970s, when attitudes and habits in society changed, I have, until now, gone for a more conservative and professional look, since I have found that to be helpful when I visit universities abroad, especially as we don't wear the things the British wear: Hood, gowns and other funny dress-party stuff. My trousers have felt uncomfortable around my quads and hamstrings a few days, for now. My usual clothing store didn't have anything that fit, but one of the tailors (who looked at me funnily) suggested me to give one of the jeans-shops a try. I took a peek into a jeans-shop after the seminar: Haven't worn jeans since I was 16 and went for a more 'adult' way of dressing and bought my first briefcase (though I wear chinos outside work). I expected jeans to be too tight and slim fit for my present needs, but it turned out that something called Levis 541 looked like they were made for me. Goes well with the Doctor Martens boots I use during the winter months. Training back tonight. Pumped. I walk like I carry something heavy, even when I don't. Feels great. Uffe and Bempa was there. We drank BCAA after getting dressed. They approved of my new jeans and new jacket. Asked me if I had tried snus before (Swedish dipping tobacco), which I hadn't, so I tried some of their's. It's a healthier alternative to cigarets. You put it under your lip, usually your upper lip. Better than coffee. Doctor's appointment tomorrow. Just the ordinary annual check-up. Will hear the results of my latest blood samples and breathing tests. It's late. Better take my ZMA, coconut oil and Gro Bro Pro before bed-time.

Yes! Yes! I can't wait to read more! I've loved this story for years!