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Ok guys, this is just a chapter that inspired me this wonderful story, they are chapters let's say....behind the scenes....what happens to the characters that we haven't been told, can you tell me what you think? Of course if you don't like it I won't make any more but here's my contribution! Uncle Ryan - Extra Cap 01 Ben looked at his reflection in the mirror. “Gonna have fun tonight,” he thought to himself as he looked at his big, better, harder new body. what had happened after his visit to his brother Ryan and his son had changed his life forever. It had already been two weeks since he returned from his trip. At first he felt like he was collapsing over what had happened. Karen, his wife had reacted very differently than he expected. He had put on a shirt of his brother Rayan that he no longer used but which was tight and well outlined on his powerful torso, leaving nothing to the imagination, his hairy chest emerged with every breath from the V-neck, demonstrating how massive and powerful he was now. his exposed arms full of veins were barely above the triceps, with sleeves that seemed to depend on his powerful shoulders and which with each movement rose a little more, dangerously close to tearing, As if that wasn't enough, the sweatpants Ryan had given him seemed to hug his full, round ass and taut thighs like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. He also noticed that two or three ladies at the airport had been eyeing him all the way from the exit to his SUV, not to mention the guy who had followed him to the bathroom who he could swear had seen bathing in his crotch once Ben in front of the mirror he had pulled up his shirt to check his abdomen as hard as a brick wall! "What the hell...!" - was the expression with which Karen reacted when she saw the man who looked like her husband but decidedly more like a comic book hulk come back in, so large hat she barely even recognized him! ""...but what...what happened to you Ben?!?!" a redhead asked the embarrassed big man in front of her who evidently wasn't expecting this reaction. "Honey..." he began to try to explain what that trip had meant and how it had profoundly changed him, trying to hug her but instead feeling pressure on his shirt that felt a loud RIIIP from his back, too wide and powerful to be contained by it anymore. "..don't you dare call me that...that was my husband's nickname...not this.....this.....monster!" - Karen's words came to Ben with a mixture of heaviness and annoyance. after all he was better now than the man who had left! Seeing the tear that is forming on the back of his shirt and hearing those words, Ben felt his anger rise, he took the shirt by the neckline and tore it away, as if it were a card sheet from a gift, he was surprised and at the same time he was sickened by it, from that mixture of power, erotic and liberation! "BEN!" Karen shouted "...but what do you think....oh my god....look at you....you're...you're disgusting!" - Ben still looked at the remains of the shirt in his hands, a smile forming on his lips mixed with lust and pleasure, for what he had just done..."Karen....my love...I...I..." - he tried to start again... but again he was interrupted by Karen: "Not a single word! I don't know what happened at your brother's place, I know that crazy guy has always been obsessed with the gym....horrible....really disgusting... but I want you to stop it immediately! .. .You're disgusting too!" at these umpteenth words Ban felt a surge of anger and pride inside, he felt like a volcano was about to explode, his chest swelled and expanded with every breath, his gaze became harder, veins began to swell on his arms and on his chest also visible through his mantle of salt-pepper hair that covered that chiseled and massive trunk! He moved his arm against the block, driving his huge fist in! continuing to look at his wife, now clearly upset. Karen was truly intimidated by her husband for the first time. Ben's gaze then softened, and he said, "Karen, sweetie, I like what happened to me, I like myself this way." the wife wasn't sure what to say....her husband just a week ago was a weak compliant little man who obeyed her every word....now she was faced with a determined, determined, massive muscular monster that she had no intention of doing what she had ordered. "...you like yourself like this...what...what do you mean?...that you won't stop?...that maybe..." Karen said, even more shocked as the minutes passed. "No. I won't stop with the weights, on the contrary....I really think that from today onwards I will continue this path, I like it, and I want more"... thus saying absentmindedly I pass my right hand, freed from the hole in the wall I'm still dirty with plaster and dust, on his massive chest, feeling it, savoring its size and strength, squeezing his left thigh with my left hand, flexing it for even more power. "...I want to be even more disgusting, honey." - Karen gasped at what she saw, her husband was adoring himself before her eyes, and she wanted more of it. in a certain sense she...did she...like it? No! it was not possible! It wasn't right! He was so disgusting! "Ben! Stop it! I...I'll leave if you keep going like this....oh keep going....I meant stop it!" The new Ben had seen the look of lust with which his wife had been observing him since he had shown his power, it was no longer the weak well, but a new and better well. and he liked it. He slowly approached his wife, intimidated by this muscular monster, asking her to accept what had now been decided and which would only get better, bigger, bigger, stronger. "No!...go away....I'm going away! I can't....you're....you're...so hot..NO!..I meant so disgusting! I have to go! "...she said moving away from Ben, biting her lower lip, her heart was beating fast...but why?!?!..."I'm leaving! she said heading towards the door...hesitating and staggering....this did not escape Ben who replied: "Ok Karen, go ahead...I will always be here...more disgusting than ever!...like this saying he made a most mucular, contracting his entire body, full of tension, anger and testosterone, emitting a low deep animal growl, which expresses everything, like a primordial bestial roar that finally freed the new and improved man from all the constraints that he had suffered over the years and accepted from his wife, as if he wanted to free himself from everything, causing his sweatpants to tear along the edges and on the front, showing off even more muscle than Karen could handle! "..OMG..." - was the last sentence he heard from his wife as she left with a mix of panic and lust, in an evident state of pleasure, given the puddle of vaginal fluid, which she left behind her. So this new path begins for Ben, finishing looking in the mirror and picking up his gym bag, now remembering it he could say that perhaps he could have acted, done or said different things. But he wouldn't have given up on the new self anyway. the memory of that moment had hardened Ben's virility, his display of strength, his domination over an obsessive and pressing wife, the sensation of mass and power. He dropped his gym bag and raised his arms, flexing his huge biceps on either side of his head. As he moved his head to the side to examine the mountains that jutted out on each arm, Ben seemed intoxicated by his own muscularity. As he stared at the massive pecs, layered abs and bulging arms, and could feel his cock twitch in response and wanting release from the prison of his jockstrap, this excited him even more and he flexed his massive chest. savoring the new dimension, the true essence of the animal he was becoming, the beast that wanted to be freed. Her cock getting harder, leaving drops of precum on the floor, “All This Hair, All These Muscles! I know STRONG!!! Bigger, BIGGER! PUMP ME GRR! GRRAHH” seeming to almost expand with every flex, like he was pumping his muscle's bigger and thicker growing right before his eye's! A huge bubble butt watching it be penetrated by the huge fingers hearing him groan even louder as he fingered the giant muscle crack. -well started rubbing his own cock watching hinself continue plowing his ass with his hand, spreading his stance further and further apart making the two gigantic cum filled balls come into view between the colossal legs. He gazed up and down the two pillars of muscle 's holding up the monster size frame getting down to the floor where a empty syringes standing next to his giant's feet. “UHHHH” - Ben roaring moan of pleasure watching him pull his hand out of his ass watching him bend over hearing a strange slurping noise. The mirror Ben 's cum covered face eating what looked like cups of sperm from his own hands rubbing it all over his body, squirting out more and more from the huge testicles. “MMm Fuck So Hot, Gonna Get So Massive, I will Be the BIGGEST!” it was so raunchy and hot at the same time. watching practically himself in the mirrr buck his ass of him wildly moaning louder and louder rubbing a wad of his man juice up his huge muscular crack of him suddenly shooting a massive load of cum on the mirror covering his reflection of him. Well let out an almost evil smile. He watched his muscled out self of him wipe some more of the cum off the mirror eating as much as he could, suddenly heading over to his bed reaching into the bag pulling out another syringe about to shoot up, it's gym time, remind himself, recovering from the lust of his new self.It's time to show what I can do, my true power Now it's time to get really huge, like his brother Ryan.

I want to share with you the following story, where an older brother is dominated by his younger alpha brother. Maybe it's a great idea to incorporate in your next chapter that you tie up his older brother with a harness on his chest so you can constantly impale him while he does his daily chores or pull ups at the gym. It would be a wet dream to read the different ways Brett dominates his older brother.

“Don’t be afraid to come into my apartment Murph. You have been eyeing me at the gym for literally months. I am fully aware that I am big and beautiful in your head. That is why I invited you over.” “I don’t know Ramon. I am so insecure with myself. I am so small compared to you and my shyness always gets the better of me.” “Just relax and take a deep breath, I think you are so adorable. I was getting so bored dating other guys that were huge like me. Me and you, we click. You have to understand that you can be attractive too.” “You think I am attractive?” “I think you are incredibly cute. Those first awkward days talking to me in the gym definitely made an impact. You were really struggling with those dumbbells, and I helped you use them with correct form. Then I had to help you up when you were having trouble getting off the leg press.” “Oh, yeah, I remember that first week. It was so embarrassing for me.” “Why? This is how friendships can form between two very attractive adult men.” Ramon is standing in his doorway wearing his cut-off shirt, showing off his hairy, thick, meaty biceps and triceps, big forearms, and pumped, round, insanely furry pecs. His big bulbous ass hugs his gym shorts well while his furry quads stretch the fabric to the very last stitch. He is gifted with incredibly large calves as well. The bearded Brazilian drove his American friend to his apartment because he has developed strong feelings for him, and he wants him to trust his intuition. Murph thinks he is being tricked, but is so smitten by the hunky bodybuilder, that he couldn’t resist not going to his place after the gym. The gorgeous South American beauty now has his hand out to hold his friend’s. He can him groaning under his breath. “Haha, take your time bro. I am not going anywhere tonight.” “I just...uh...my stupid anxiety.” “Okay, let me help you relax a little bit then.” Ramon steps out of his apartment to put his hands on Murph’s face and leans in to kiss him. The lanky 24-year-old with glasses, a black t-shirt, and matching black shorts is thrown off guard. He instinctively puts his hands on his friend’s thick black mane and starts petting it. Ramon loves it so much. He has now moved his hands down to Murph’s back and is holding him. “MMM...see buddy, I’m not faking this. This kiss was so good. Come in so we can get something to eat.” He puts one of his huge veiny arms around Murph’s waist and leads him inside. They are walking towards the kitchen. He lets go of his friend and tells him to go sit on one of the chairs in front of his island. He opens his fridge and starts pulling out a bunch of stuff he made the previous day. Most of it of course is extremely healthy food including chicken, eggs, salad, and an array of vegetables. “Wow, this is what I usually see on TikTok, Ramon. All the usual pro bodybuilder foods.” “Nothing wrong with that Murph. I think I can make us something good out of all of this.” As he starts preparing their meals, the Brazilian pulls his top off and tosses it over to a chair in the tv area located beside the kitchen. He looks over at his buddy and grins as he nonchalantly starts bouncing his pecs. Murph rolls his eyes for a few seconds but then smiles back. “Oh, so what if I do this then mister.” Ramon lifts one of his big arms up and starts to flex his left bicep, staring at it as it rises to 22”. He squeezes it hard and grunts making his forearm bulge as the veins swell. Murph does enjoy watching him do that. After a couple of seconds, he goes back to cutting vegetables and boiled eggs. “I do love a man who has worked hard to achieve such incredible size, Ramon.” “You are with one right now bro.” Murph’s need to go touch his upper body is getting the best of him. The South American beauty looks at him again and is smirking. “Come over here Murph. You can put your hands on me.” The much smaller, lighter-skinned man slowly gets out of his chair and moves around the island to start running his hands along Ramon’s huge chest and his muscle gut. He can hear the Brazilian beast sighing under his breath. “You enjoy it when I run my hands on your body?” He stops prepping the food again and reaches over to clasp Murph’s hands with his. “You clearly know how to use these, buddy. The way you touch my pecs and abs is...incredibly relaxing.” He pulls one of Murph’s hands up to his face and kisses it slowly. He can feel his friend starting to tremble with pleasure. Then he picks him up and sits him on the island, beside the food as he parts his buddy’s legs and wraps them around his thick muscular waist. He leans up against the island, as it makes a loud noise. Murph looks up at him in shock as he starts mumbling incoherent words. Ramon grins again as he grabs his friend’s hands. “They feel really good on my body. You should start massaging my chest again.” “Oh...Uh...yeah. Umm...I mean...I guess.” The young man is now messing with his huge hairy pecs again, finding his nipples and pinching them. Ramon lets out a few loud moans as he tries to finish fixing their food. Murph can’t believe that he is nearly being humped by probably the most beautiful man he has ever been around, and that he is letting him feel his muscles freely. Once he is done putting their food on plates he has out, the beautiful Brazilian quickly drops his shorts. His massive brownish cock is now in full view of Murph’s peripheral. He can’t take his eyes off it as it bounces up and down. “Oops, I must have accidentally dropped my shorts on the floor.” “You weren’t wearing anything underneath?” “Haha, I rarely do bud. It does turn heads on occasion. Isn’t he a sexy beast?” “Umm...yes...I mean...yes? Oh well...I shouldn’t have said...” Before he can finish his sentence, Ramon has one of Murph’s hands on top of it. He feels a large bead of precum coming out of the rod’s head. The two men are now locking eyes on each other. “Bro... I want you. I have had such a hunger for you for quite some time, you have no idea.” “OH! But you just made this food for us? I mean...mmm...” Murph wants desperately to put that beautiful brown penis in his mouth and Ramon knows it. He shoves his smaller partner down to it and moans as he feels him start to suck on the big head. The huge hunky beast has a very intense look on his face, like he is upset with him, but that isn’t what it is at all. Murph stops for a second with concern. “Did I do something wrong?” “NO BUD! You are...doing everything right. I just haven’t...well...I have a lot in there. We can have dessert first I guess.” Murph winks as he goes back to worshipping Ramon’s big, beautiful tool. He can hear the hot beast sighing in pleasure as the huge beefcake looks down at him savoring his thick meat and is now rubbing his impressive ball sack as well. “You are not so shy anymore, are you Murph? You just couldn’t help yourself when you saw him down there. I am so glad you took the hint because there could be a surprise for you very soon if you continue to suck me off.” The taste of Ramon’s precum is sending shockwaves through Murph’s brain. He can’t seem to concentrate on anything else at this point as he continues to worship his beautiful partner’s huge veiny cock. He has started to run his hands up and down the Brazilian’s chest again, petting his fur and it is making him moan deeply as he feels himself getting closer to the edge of ecstasy. “Yo bud, I think we need to take those glasses off your face. You are going to ruin them if you get too excited.” Ramon makes him stop for a few seconds so that he can put the food on the plates in the refrigerator and puts Murph’s glasses over on another counter. He takes his shorts and throws them off to the side before turning back around to lean in and embrace his partner to kiss him on the lips for a few seconds. He then pushes the 24-year-old back to where he was on the island and shoves his throbbing wet cock back in his face. “You don’t have to stop again this time. I know what you want, and you can have it. We are both pretty hungry I think, the food can wait till after we are done having a little fun with each other.” “I am so mesmerized by not only you Ramon, but your incredible muscular body. Your big penis is so freaking beautiful, and I might be a little obsessed with it.” The hunky Brazilian laughs as he pets his friend’s balding head lovingly. He then starts to move Murph back on top of his cock again. The American starts to slowly gulp down on him again, which once again gets several heavy sighs from Ramon, who is liking the way that his partner treats his equipment. “Ahh, I have to say Murph, I really do like the way you make me feel. I am getting SOOO...close to mmm...” He looks at his friend and moans seeing his precum dripping off Murph’s face. The nerdy man is moaning himself as he rubs Ramon’s tool all over his face. He licks and slurps on it several times before shoving it in his mouth again. The beautiful bodybuilder thrusts several times, marveling at how well his partner can handle it. “YEAH! It feels so fucking good bro. I am going to cum... get ready for it.” Murph moans loudly as he starts to feel it leaving Ramon’s cock and down his throat. He gags several times, which makes his well-muscled friend grunt in pleasure. Some of his cum is now leaking out the sides of his American buddy’s mouth and down his face to his shirt. He pulls the beast out and feels some of his seed against his nose as another jet lands on his head. “Oh, fuck Murph, I am so turned on. Coating you is something I have wanted to do for a while now. And if things go the way I hope they do, that won’t be the only thing happening here soon.” “Uhm...mmm...you taste so freaking good Ramon. I will be your cum bucket anytime you want me to.” Murph realizes what he said at the end of his statement. “What do you mean by happening here soon? Did you do something to me?” Ramon finishes cumming and leans down to slowly kiss his friend on the lips again. They embrace for a few moments as Murph starts to softly groan under his breath. His Brazilian partner sighs knowing what is about to start happening to his nerdy buddy. “I want to hold you up against me when it begins, bud. I wasn’t always so big, muscular, and beautiful as you say I am. I made sure that I injected myself with the growth hormone that my coach gave to me this morning. He is the one responsible for turning me into this hunk that you want so much. Now, I want to do the same for you.” Murph can feel his cock reacting in his shorts and is trying not to make it too obvious. Ramon hugs him tightly against his big chest and whispers softly into his right ear, “Us former nerds don’t have to be in the background anymore. Get huge for me, amante. I want to parade you around like the besta quente you will be.” The nerdy young man groans as he feels his legs getting thicker as they start to stretch further down the island towards the tiled floor beneath them. The big Brazilian has his hands on Murph’s ass as it swells inside both of them. He moans squeezing each individual inflating mound of beef as his friend tries to keep his composure in the process. “Oh, so this is what you had planned for me. I admit that I am more than willing to be your boyfriend, Ramon. I just had no idea that you were going to...well...I most certainly want to get huge and hot like you.” Murph’s feet have grown even larger as his calves expand into thick and veiny upside-down beefy hearts. He smiles as he watches his forearms and biceps inflating and pushes Ramon back a bit so he can stand up. He turns his back around towards the Brazilian and moans as he shows his friend how much it is growing underneath his shirt. His delts and traps are swelling to nearly twice their size. He is also feeling a great deal of adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Wow, I can feel my confidence growing with each passing second Ramon. This is literally erasing years of training that I would have needed to do to achieve such a dreamy body. The added height is making this even better too.” “Fuck Murph...I am so in lust of what is happening to you right now. I didn’t even think I would be into this as much as I am.” “I love it too...no more wondering about how much food I need to ingest. No more pining for guys and being down on myself. RRAAHH...I am so close to bursting out of these clothes too.” The young man turns back around to face his hunky buddy and now has grown a thick blackish beard. The hair on his head has fallen off and his shirt is now practically painted onto his thick frame. His obliques and stabilizers are fully visible beneath the tight fabric and his huge pecs are beginning to pull the shirt apart. He can hear some of the seams making loud noises. His moans are getting louder as his quads stretch his shorts to their limits. The denseness of both quads mesmerizes Ramon so much that he reaches in to rub on each of them with his hands and fingers. There are veins cascading all over both of his giant thighs as his Brazilian partner slowly squeezes them and marvels at their diamond shaped beauty. He can hear Murph sighing in pleasure as he does this. He has also started flexing both of his engorged forearms, making each of them swell as the veins and muscles bulge even bigger. His inflating biceps and triceps are now becoming too large for his shirt to handle as the sleeves rip open and each monstrously large upper arm becomes visible to Ramon’s eyes. He has now moved his hands up to each of them and squeezes them in awe. “You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on Murph. I just want to fucking worship every inch of you.” “You will get to do that soon enough stud. It is just about time for me to get completely naked for you.” The growing beast grunts as he feels his shorts ripping along their sides as his growing ass also frees itself out the back. His glutes have also mangled his boxers as they swell even bigger. His growing cock is destroying the zipper on his shorts as it finally rages out and hangs downward towards the ground. His ball sac is also tearing its way out to join the party. Murph yells in delight as he feels his shirt ripping in multiple places. His huge pecs flop out in seconds as his V-shaped torso follows. He shows Ramon what his huge lats and delts are doing as they tear his shirt in half. He starts flexing his neck as the muscles bulge wider, veins thick and corded, which makes him laugh with pleasure when he sees and hears his friend making grunting noises. He then does a double bicep which pretty much finishes the shirt off, as his mammoth round shoulders and traps split his top as it drapes down the front and back of his huge frame. He then tears it off with just a few of his fingers. “Am I starting to resemble Brandao now, Ramon?” “What do you think sua fera linda?” “Damn, I am really loving the fact that you are speaking Portuguese to me now.” “I want you so much Murph. You are intoxicating me with your new swagger and your vast muscularity. Estou a apaixonar-me por ti.” “You don’t need to call me by that name anymore either. That ship has now passed beautiful. I will be known as Brock from now on. I can’t wait until our friends see us together. Mm...I have waited YEARS to be with another man of your caliber. Uh...let me see if I can say something in your sexy language...Obrigado...querido.” “Ahh, I love your new name, Brock. Agora eu quero me sufocar nos seus musculos.” “OMG, come over here and fucking worship me then, you beautiful Portuguese stud.” He finishes ripping his shorts and boxers off, fulling nude now, and continues to flex for his friend. Ramon wraps his arms around Brock’s waist and starts to lick and kiss his partner’s huge guns. His mouth eventually finds its way to other areas including his huge pecs, which Ramon can’t get enough of as he spends several minutes working on both of them, licking and chewing on Brock’s hard nipples. After also meeting the huge beast’s big 10-inch companion between his quads for quite a while, the Brazilian makes eye contact with Brock again and they kiss each other on the lips. Ramon has his hands on the beast’s head as they embrace, and he attempts to try and work his cock back to his partner’s huge ass. He learns quickly that Brock is way too strong now to even try this as he finds himself being lifted by the huge hulk and is placed on the island that he once had his partner sitting on. Brock has Ramon turned around with his ass in the air and his big muscular frame leaning up against his Brazilian friend’s body. He can hear his partner breathing heavy and is incredibly excited. “Oh, uh, Brock, eu era um menino mau. Nao me castigue com esse penis grande e viril. Ele Ele...” The thick muscle monster laughs as he starts to smack Ramon’s furry ass and knows how eager he is because his hole is incredibly wet. “I don’t know everything you are saying to me beautiful, but what I am getting out of that is that you think my penis is great, or you think I am virile. Haha, well it is incredibly big now and I think that I would agree that I am quite the specimen.” He moans as he starts to push himself inside Ramon. He is loving the sounds that are coming from his partner too, as he lays on top of the hunk and starts running his hands all over his huge back and arms. They both tell each other how much they desire their muscles as they start kissing each other again with their heads turned to each other. Brock grunts and groans as he slowly moves in and out of his partner’s muscular ass, savoring every moment that he is with his dreamy boyfriend, loving the fact that Ramon is so infatuated with him. They eventually stop kissing when he notices that his balls are getting ready to push his huge load into his cock. “Beautiful Portuguese stud, do you want me to pump it in your hot ass, or do you want to feel me shower you in my love on your face?” “Mm... I want to look at you Brock as you coat me so I can remind myself of why this was the smartest decision of my life.” “OMG, this is why I am falling in love with you.” He pulls his meat out of Ramon’s ass and turns him around on the island facing his huge chest and dick. The beast slowly starts stroking as the 245-pound Brazilian hunk looks into his eyes and smiles as he leans in to kiss his partner’s sweaty abs and even gets a lick in on his big pecs and nips before moving Brock’s hands away from his hard stick so he can finish him off. “Big boy, let me do it for you. I can’t think of a better way of ending this special evening than to down a nice thick milkshake from my boyfriend before we eat some real food.” “I am all yours Ramon.” He has his mouth open and his tongue out as he grips Brock’s big tool in his hands and strokes it with conviction. The beast moans in pleasure as he feels himself getting close to the edge after a few strong rubs. Once he knows it is getting ready to fly, Ramon yells in pleasure as he starts to catch his partner’s thick river in his mouth. He moans as he gulps it down and makes the beast flex his huge arms. Ramon punches him lovingly on his chest, abs, and quads, rubbing them slowly as he continues to drain Brock’s ball sac. He then has to hold the beast up seeing that he is so spent from the buildup to this point. The Brazilian finally opens his mouth and pulls his friend’s cock from his lips. He gets up and hugs Brock in his arms. “I love you, big boy. You not only look amazing, but you taste as good as you look. That sounded better in my head.” “I don’t really care what you say anymore Ramon. I love everything about you. I am hungry, let’s eat.” They both start taking everything out of the refrigerator that Ramon fixed earlier and start dividing everything up between them. They both go sit outside on the deck, still nude, beside each other, at a table that the Brazilian had set up. They quickly start munching on their food while massaging each other’s big muscles. “You might be bigger than Brandao, Brock. Maybe...270...big and beautiful.” “Heh, I love being bigger than you stud.” “We will have to change that. I can grow bigger than this, I have done it before.” “OH, I will enjoy that if it happens then.” “Good, that is something we can both look forward to. After we get some much-needed nutrients, we need to get some quality sleep big boy. I’m sure we can take turns using the other as a body pillow.” “MMM...you are absolutely right.” After spending a few more minutes sitting out in the breezy air, they both get up and take their stuff inside and place things back on the counter by the sink. Brock finds his glasses and puts them on for Ramon to see after his transformation. He is immediately kissed by his partner. “Ah, so you approve of them being on me now?” “There is something about a nerdy hulk that I can’t resist Brock. You put more thoughts in my brain just now. Let’s get to bed and maybe we can talk about how much I love this.” “Heh, oh absolutely beautiful. I have a feeling that the talking will be short-lived.” The two muscle beasts put their arms around each other and walk down the hall into Ramon’s bedroom together. After a couple of minutes of being silly with each other and admiring each other’s voices, they end up focusing on their best body parts, which leads to lots of kissing and licking them. Brock/Murph will likely be the talk of the gym crowd the next day.

Teleportation was not a form of travel Jalveth enjoyed: when expected it was a jarring experience, but when it came out of nowhere it was nauseating. The problem was that the Magisters of the Collective operated on their own schedule with scant regard for others. Jalveth took in the sumptuous furnishings of the Magister’s parlour as he tried to keep the remains of his lunch from adding to the decoration. “I take it you know why you are here?” stated the figure sat at an expansive desk without looking up from his paperwork. “No my lord,” replied Jalveth meekly and with good reason: a Magister’s word was law and they had enough power to administer any punishment they so chose. Childhood stories of what they do to those who wronged them leapt to the forefront of his mind, which he tried to repress as he hadn’t done anything wrong that might justify any form of punishment, had he? A piece of parchment levitated from the cluttered desk and floated in front of his face; it was a fairly long list: ‘Silver Goblin Trading’, ‘Griffin Claw Holdings’, ‘Black Root Alchemicals’ and others were written in a clear hand. “This is a list of accounts I administer.” said Jalveth confused, but in a contrite a fashion as he could muster. “Did you think it wouldn’t be noticed,” said the figure, looking at Jalveth for the first time since his arrival. “A crystal here, a couple of crystals there, not enough for one organisation to really notice but overall they do mount up…” “But I…” Jalveth began before a wave of paralysis suffused his entire being resulting in sudden breathlessness and a stiffness through his muscles, and to his embarrassment a similar reaction from his genitalia. “Do not interrupt,” admonished the Magister, “I am told you have a head for figures, I would have thought you more capable of covering your tracks than this; and so unoriginal, such scams have been around forever, they are even older than I.” Jalveth unable to respond was unsure how he would have if he could: he had known nineteen summers and the figure before him barely looked much older; but this was a Magister and appearances were almost certainly misleading. “We expect our computers to be intelligent, so what made you think you could get away with it?” the Magister asked looking directly at Jalveth. If the rest of his appearance did not bely his age the same could not be said of the Magister’s eyes: the black pools looked as though they had seen stars die and possibly caused them to do so. “There must be some mistake,” Jalveth squeaked, “those accounts were fine, with no crystal unaccounted for.” “Are you saying a Magister is wrong?” the man said in what seemed to be a friendly inquisitive tone. Jalveth knew better than to trust the friendly demeanour; his heart was racing as his body felt like it was betraying him: it felt hot and constrained in his clothes, not to mention he was so hard it was throbbing despite the situation, was there something about the Magister’s voice that made him feel this way? Jalveth couldn’t discount the possibility. Not that his mind was faring much better, it kept speculating on what punishments the Magister may enforce that Jalveth had trouble focusing on the situation he found himself in. “Of course not my lord,” he found himself saying, “merely that you have not been given all the information,” and wondered to himself just how he would justify that claim. “So enlighten me,” said the Magister with a tone that suggested there was nothing he didn’t already know, “who else had access to those accounts? One of your colleagues perhaps?” “No-one at the Counting House could have done it, would have done it,” replied Jalveth emphatically, “they are my friends, my family they have been nothing but helpful since I arrived at the Collective.” “And you are sure of this?” said the Magister clearly showing his view on the matter. “Only one bonded to the accounts would be able to change them.” said Jalveth firmly, “the only one bonded is…” and he trailed off as he realised the implications while the Magister just smiled at him. “Please,” Jalveth begged, “let me speak to my colleagues, maybe they will have some idea how this has happened.” “Oh you won’t be returning to the Counting House.” said the Magister, “By your own admission it is clear you are responsible: either it is deliberate for which you need punishing or accidental which shows you to be a liability; either way you cannot be trusted to look after the finances of others.” “But my smarts, my skill with numbers, that’s all I have,” wailed Jalveth as he prostrated himself before the Magister. Bringing his hands together in a begging gesture caused an audible ripping noise from his tunic and Jalveth looked at his body for the first time since his arrival. The reason for the constrained feeling was now obvious: he was larger than he should be, his slim scrawny build was replaced by a somewhat more athletic one. “There are many ways to serve the Collective,” said the Magister, “and if your suitability is wrong then we can easily change it, there are many positions that require less cerebral acumen and more physical presence such as soldier or labourer or…” “Please don’t make me a pleasure slave!” Jalveth begged crying. “Oh so you know about the pleasure slaves then,” the Magister stated, “just by reputation, or have you partaken?” “My colleagues organised it, they said it was a rite of passage.” replied Jalveth but his focus was diverted by the figure that had magically appeared in the chamber. He was magnificent: large powerful legs supported a strongly defined core, but still with a fairly narrow waist, which in turn were surmounted by a pair of pronounced pectorals that competed for space with a pair of massive arms, but the crowning achievement was the huge organ protruding from his groin. It arced up through the deep valley of the pecs and stopped just below where a beautiful face was waiting. It was only the expression and look behind the eyes that let the figure down for Jalveth: there was little sign of intelligence or even awareness there. The figure had not reacted to its translocation and it seemed was awaiting any sort of instruction for a while, which means it stood motionless for some time. Eventually, whether it finally realised nothing was forthcoming, or more likely just following its baser instincts moved to take the massive head of its member in its mouth and started pleasing itself. Jalveth watched mesmerised as the figure bounced its pecs, together and separately, to stimulate the shaft of its immense penis in complete oblivion to its surroundings. Not that the figure was the only one. “I said what was it like to be fucked by a pleasure slave,” said the Magister testily, completely ignoring the figure’s arrival. “Huh,” said Jalveth distracted, “but I didn’t…” and when his brain caught up to his mouth felt the need to clarify: “I wanted to but it was so large and I got scared and just spent the time worshipping his body.” “You do know they are ensorcelled to provide only pleasure and no pain?” Asked the Magister in a flat tone to which Jalveth gave a slow calculated nod. “Ensorcelled by a Magister, so which is it you doubt, our skill or our power?” Jalveth doubted neither as both were clearly evident in the way his tunic burst in multiple places from the strain, he could feel his bulging biceps resting on his protruding chest, neither adjective would anyone have considered attributing to Jalveth before now. His breeches had so far still remained intact but it was clear they would not remain so if he underwent another growth spurt. The bulge at the front was large and the confined space was beginning to pinch uncomfortably. “Ah I see how it is, this all makes sense,” said the Magister looking at Jalveth who was exploring the changes in his body with his hands, but his eyes were still focussed on the activities of the third person in the room. “It is because you are jealous of the pleasure slaves.” the Magister said as a statement of fact and not a question. “Well who wouldn’t be?” replied Jalveth, “after all they were made by the Magisters as perfect physical specimens. Are you doubting the Magister’s skill? Or their power?” Jalveth groaned internally as he realised what he had just uttered, how stupid was he to rile one who had so much power, Jalveth braced himself for the inevitable consequences. Which never came, instead the Magister just laughed, “I suppose I could have phrased that better, tell me were you happy in the Counting House?” Jalveth nearly blurted out ‘of course’ but thought better of it, “I had a job I could do easily, colleagues that supported me, and it paid enough to meet my needs.” Jalveth eventually said carefully choosing his words. “But did that make you happy?” said the Magister in a tone that was clear that he knew the answer but wanted to hear Jalveth say it. “No,” Jalveth admitted, “the work was dull, I did it because I could and not because I wanted to; my colleagues were friendly because they were my colleagues and not because of me and while my needs were met there was little extra for anything else.” “And then you met a pleasure slave, you thought you would be the superior one in the situation despite his physical attributes you were the free one, the one with the intellect; however, you realised that of the two of you only he was happy with his life and you were envious of that.” explained the Magister. “But he was so stupid,” retorted Jalveth, “all he could do was grunt or talk in a monosyl…, a mono…, in one word answers and only then about his body or sex.” At the mention of the word sex the third person in the room ceased their self-ministrations and moved towards Jalveth seductively; the giant ever-erect penis bouncing back and forth as he moved until he came to a stop in front of Jalveth and took up a pose that showed off his muscular body. Jalveth gulped involuntarily as he forced himself not to lean forward, not to touch and was fighting an impulse to join him in flexing. The Magister continued to act as though the other man was not even in the room. “Really, you were stuck in a role you despised in a life you thought had no meaning, whereas he was someone who really enjoyed his work, who would be thrilled to be in the company of his colleagues and whose needs and desires were both met without his input. That is what you were jealous of, that is why you wanted to be him.” elucidated the Magister. “But I don’t want to be dumb, my intelligence, my skill with numbers is all I have, it’s all I am!” Jalveth exclaimed, tears running down his face. “But has that intelligence ever made you happy, or is it what is holding you back from getting what you really want?” The Magister began. Jalveth opened his mouth to respond but stopped when the Magister raised his hand. “It was your ‘intelligence’ that stopped you experiencing the joys of that pleasure slave. It is the same ‘intelligence’ that is trying to plan a way out of this but is ignoring your desires, it is not even realising they are showing themselves anyway.” Jalveth looked confused and was surprised when the pleasure slave gently wiped the tears from his eyes. The Magister continued, “ You were the one to suggest being turned into a pleasure slave, in fact it is what you have been thinking about since you arrived in my chamber; I wonder if your subconscious forced you to make those mistakes to bring us to this outcome.” “But I didn’t, I wouldn’t…” Jalveth sobbed, “I don’t know what you want from me?” “Simple,” answered the Magister, “I just want you to tell me what you want, what you really want.” Jalveth knew he was stuck, his strategy had been to tell the Magister exactly what he wanted to hear, but clearly what the Magister wanted to hear was what was clearly something that was not intelligent to say; as such his thoughts led in circles as his brain tried to find a way out of the contradiction. In the confusion this meant that his mouth was operating unsupervised, “I want to be a pleasure slave,” Jalveth mumbled quietly. “Sorry what was that?” said the Magister who had clearly heard what he said. “I want to be a pleasure slave!” Jalveth said louder and with more conviction, “I want to be so dumb that I don’t know what a number is, let alone what to do with one! And I want to be so big that anyone who sees me will be awestruck to the point where they can’t think of them either! I want to spend my days having sex with anyone, with everyone! But most of all I want to be happy!” “There, that wasn’t so difficult,” said the Magister, “I think you deserve a reward for your honesty.” and with that the pleasure slave moved behind Jalveth with clear intent. Jalveth was confused, how did that make any sense? Just saying what should have been a bad idea somehow was going to see him receive the sex he had foolishly denied himself in the past? Magisters may have tremendous power but Jalveth wasn’t entirely sure of their sanity. Not that was his most pressing concern: he was harder than he’d ever been before in his entire life; but as his breeches burst from the strain the nature of this ‘reward’ became obvious. His erection was growing at a rate that was clearly visible to the eye and from the heat that pervaded his body that growth was not limited to his sex organ. Jalveth’s mind was not willing to go without a fight, and following his earlier declaration was repeating simple random multiplication to prove it couldn’t be banished that easily. ‘Four by twelve is forty-eight’ The pleasure slave removed the remains of Jalveth’s tattered clothing by ripping them off his body ‘Seven by eight is fifty-six’, the pleasure slave put his hand on Jalveth’s surprisingly hairy rear and Jalveth shot the biggest load of his life which stopped him thinking of anything for a while. When he came to his senses he looked down to see that his cock had reached his large hairy pecs. Jalveth had always been ashamed of his body hair and considering that both the pleasure slave in the room and the one he’d encountered earlier had smooth bodies it was a surprise that he not only retained his body hair, it was not thinned out by the muscle growth, but if anything was denser, thicker and more widespread. ‘Eight by five is fuckty… er forty’ Jalveth thought as he reached down to check on his balls, his stance had widened to accommodate the size of his legs and that gave his balls which were significantly larger, and hairier, more room. Jalveth gave them a squeeze and was rewarded with another large load. ‘Seven by four is… forty?’ Jalveth thought as he flexed a large hairy arm and watched as it grow before his eyes. ‘Six by nine is… six by nine is…, six by… sex…, sex!’ Jalveth thought as his cock was now at a point where he could easily take it into his mouth; which he did so with gusto. What looked up after he shot yet another huge load, this time into his hungry mouth which he slurped up greedily, was in no way bothered by multiplication; with numbers at least. It looked down on the pleasure slave before it and realised he was bigger than the man in all aspects including height. “Me big,” it said eventually. The pleasure slave took the opportunity to caress Jalveth’s furry bulk: gently stroking the soft hair across the bulging muscle. Jalveth wanted to tell him how attractive he found the man, what he wanted to do to him and what he wanted from the man but the words weren’t there. Eventually he settled on a single word that expressed all his feelings: “Fuck” “Fuck?” came the reply from the pleasure slave. “Fuck!” replied Jalveth with a smile and pulled the other pleasure slave into a passionate embrace. “Oh Boys!” called a voice from near a large bed, the only furniture in the room. For some reason Jalveth had a feeling something was wrong about that, but he couldn’t see what would be wrong with a hot guy calling him over to a bed. The Magister moved his hand and his clothing vanished revealing a tight muscular body and what would be considered a large cock in any other company, he kneeled on the large bed pushing his rear seductively in the air. A test for the new pleasure slave, which was on the way to scoring high marks as the Magister felt the tickle of a soft beard before a tongue masterfully worked at his hole. The other pleasure slave was before him and the Magister had no hesitation in taking as much of his manhood into his mouth as he could. In other circumstances the Magister would have grown his body to match them and switched off for a night of mindless debauchery; alas he had other duties that needed attending beforehand, primarily figuring out just who had framed Jalveth in the first place. If the young man had used the intellect he’s claimed to possess to be more suspicious of his colleagues then maybe he wouldn’t be in this position, using his tongue to devastating effect, as his naivety must have played a part in being chosen as the scapegoat. That and his appearance: Jalveth may not have realised with his insecurities but he was a very attractive man; to the extent that the Magister had little to do to his countenance in his transformation, essentially just making sure his face fit with the massive hairy muscle-bound moron he’d become, and frankly the beard had done most of that work for him. People think that magic can do anything, and by and large it can, but it still has its limitations. Even with knowing what was done the Magister could think of seven ways that Jalveth’s credentials could have been faked and was not arrogant enough to consider that to be an exhaustive list. Add to that not knowing who, when or why led to too many variables. The Magister had a spell trying to resolve it but with the lack of information would take a long time to report; it would be very surprising indeed if framing Jalveth was the whole point of the endeavour, so it was a matter of time before the real plot revealed itself and may well do so before his spell had concluded. So the Magister was relying more on a non-magical ploy: Jalveth. He felt the bulbous head of the new pleasure slave’s massive prick teasing his hole and the ecstatic thrill when it pushed home. Once the fate of Jalveth was announced to his colleagues the Magister expected them to lay low for a while, time they are likely to spend enjoying this very position with the new slave. Whether it will be regret about what they have done to Jalveth, or to gloat about it and fooling a Magister the culprit will have no qualms in confessing everything to someone they know doesn’t understand what they are saying. Pleasure slaves have a built-in aura of isolation that protects their clients from attack or interference when they are at their most vulnerable. The feeling of absolution at disclosing their darkest secrets and only receiving pleasure as a response was nearly as big a draw as the pleasure the slaves could bestow. Of course the slaves may not be able to understand but that didn’t mean the couldn’t listen, and repeat everything they heard to any curious Magister, but the populace would rather assume any information was discovered by magic. Jalveth would have his revenge, even if he now didn’t care about it, and his guilty former colleagues would learn there are worse punishments than becoming a pleasure slave. As for Jalveth, the Magister thought as both slaves unloaded in him simultaneously, he was too exquisite a prospect to relinquish. The Magister had considered his personal harem big enough but knew that when this was resolved there would be a place for Jalveth, one where he would have the very happy life he wished for.

Just spoke to the author. Work kept him busy for the last couple of weeks but he said he is back to writing.

Sam had been a weatherman on a local affiliate in his city for over a decade. He was very photogenic, like so many on air personalities, and kept himself in great shape. In fact, his trainer often told him that he should enter a physique competition. Sam would just laugh off the suggestion, but then he would go home and flex in the mirror, admiring his muscular build, picturing himself winning a competition with ease, until he came to his own reflection. Later that week, a new sportscaster was joining the crew at Sam’s station. He was from an affiliate in Montana. His name was Kurt Steele. Sam googled him, and found out that he’d been a rancher until about a year ago when he started doing sports for a station out of Helena. The only images of him were his headshots, which seemed odd, but from those Sam could tell the guy was a big burly guy, the epitome of what a sportscaster should look like. His neck was wider than his head. His jaw line and brow were thick and squared off, like a Neanderthal. A ruggedly handsome Neanderthal. Thick swirls of chest hair stuck up from his unbuttoned polo collar. Sam was mesmerized by the rugged masculinity of his face, but disdainfully hoped that the guy’s IQ matched his neck size, which appeared to be about 24 inches. The day Kurt started at the station, Sam arrived about 20 minutes before his air time, as usual. Jillian, the makeup woman, told him he should go meet the new guy. “He’s in Greg’s old office.” So Sam made his way down the hallway and knocked on the door. He knew from the guy’s headshots to expect a big man, but when the door open, he took a step back. The guy was huge. Kurt smiled broadly and said, “You must be Sam. I recognize your face.” His voice was a deep bass as it rolled out of his barrel chest. He had on a tight white tee that showed off his impressive build. “Um, yeh, I’m Sam,” stuttered Sam, who was rarely at a loss for words. He had a hard time processing the size of the man in front of him. He felt off balance. Kurt put out his hand and the two men shook. And in about the time it takes an electron to orbit its nucleus, both men knew who the alpha was, as men usually do with a handshake. Kurt’s huge meaty grip wrapped around Sam’s smaller hand and squeezed. Sam was not used to being the beta who was intimidated by a bigger man’s presence. He felt lightheaded, and had a funny stirring in his gut that he wasn’t used to either. “Come on in,” said Kurt, pulling Sam into his office, giving him no chance to decline the invite. “I’m just getting ready for my big debut.” Kurt stripped off his white tee and tossed it aside. “Holy shit,” muttered Sam, as he soaked in the sight of the powerfully built sportscaster. He could feel the heat coming off his massive torso. Kurt chuckled. “What’s the matter, Sammy, you never seen muscle like this before?” Kurt flexed his arm. “I guess not many people have seen a 23” arm this close up.” He moved his big peak closer to Sam. Kurt’s scent filled the room. Sam backed up against the door jam. “Or chest slabs like this.” Kurt turned sideways toward a big mirror on the wall. He heaved his chest out. His pecs jutted outward. “Oh my god,” said Sam. Kurt’s pecs had three times the thickness of his. Kurt grinned as he bounced his powerful chest. “Check this out, Sammy.” Kurt grabbed a trophy that was on a shelf next to fthe mirror. He heaved his chest out farther, then placed the trophy on his wide pec shelf and rested it there. “Geezus fuck,” said Sam. Then he said, “Is that a powerlifting trophy? “Yep. I’ve got about twenty more off them, still boxed up in my new place. I keep winning them, and my chest keeps getting bigger and stronger. Along with everything else too. Speaking of which, I’ve gotta pump up a little before going on.” Kurt put the trophy back on the shelf. He went over to the closet and pulled out chest exercise bar. Sam used to see ads for them in old muscle mags. Kurt held it in his outstretched arms and bent it until the ends tapped. “I had this special ordered,” said Kurt. “It has 6 times the tension of their hardest bar.” He bent the bar as if it had no resistance at all. Like it was a toy. His pecs swelled with every rep. So did his brawny arms and forearms. When he stopped, he handed the bar to Sam. “You look like you try to stay in shape. Give it a try. You’ll be surprised at how hard it works your whole upper body.” Sam tried it, but could barely make the thing budge. Meanwhile Kurt was checking himself out in the mirror. “Yeh,” he said, satisfied. “Not a bad pump at all.” He was swollen up like a super heavyweight bodybuilder right before heading on stage. He turned and walked to his desk, and Sam got a good look at the big man’s back. It was wider and thicker than Vincent Mansone’s. Kurt picked up a stick of deodorant from his desk. He turned toward Sam, raised one big arm and started rubbing deodorant into his deep armpit. “You look a little pale there, Sam. You never seen a pump like this?” Kurt started bouncing his swollen mounds. Even thru his hairy pelt, Sam could see striations on the bigger man’s pecs, and the deep valley between the two. “That is insane,” groaned Sam. Kurt chuckled as he finished his other pit. Then he went to the closet and pulled out a big black polo and pulled it on. It was snug on his massive torso. “They don’t make these 6xl’s as big as they used to,” said Kurt, as his huge veiny arms pushed the short sleeves halfway up his delts. He shoved the shirt tail into his pants. Sam could see Kurt’s thick ab bricks thru the fabric, moving in and out as he breathed. “It gets hard to find clothes when you’re 330 pounds and growing.” He flexed his arms into a double bi. “You better get ready for your segment, Sam. But you might want to change your pants first.” Sam was barely holding onto consciousness, but he looked down and realized that precum had leaked thru his dress pants. “It’s good to be part of the team,” said Kurt as he walked up to Sam and took his hand, shaking it again. Then Kurt ran his thick calloused thumb up and down the back of Sam’s hand, slowly and firmly. Sam came in his pants.

As Sam and Joe showed Hank’s dad the inside of the barn, he said he could see why his boy liked it here. He stopped to look over the boxing ring and said, “This reminds me of my days as a pro wrestler.” “You were a pro wrestler?” Joe said, wide eyed with awe. Plus, he couldn’t imagine anyone climbing into the ring with such a monster of a man. “Yep,” said Hank senior. “I was fifteen when I knocked up a stripper from Atlanta, so I dropped out of school so I could pay for the kid.” “They let you wrestle at fifteen?” asked Sam. “Yeah, well, I was big for my age.” This was an understatement. By the time of his fifteenth birthday, he was already 6’3” and 235lbs, and was sporting a thick full beard. No one in the Georgia wrestling circuit ever asked his age. By the time he hit sixteen, he was 6’6”, 310lbs, and could pin any man on the roster. “I rassled for a couple years, but then my pa died and left me the farm, so I went home to run it. The farm has grown a lot since then. So have I,” he said with a laugh, as he patted on his protruding gut. What he didn’t mention was how he had grown so much. As the hog farm grew more and more profitable, he got his veterinarian to supply him with extra growth hormones that he used on himself. His size and strength ballooned, along with his ego and desire for more strength. In recent years, he’d been going to Indonesia to get a testosterone stimulating treatment that made his testes produce five times the test of a normal man. Now he had bull sized balls that were hard as iron and constantly churning out vast amounts of male hormone. Now, at thirty-seven, he was growing faster than an eighteen year old newbie. As they made their way over to the workout area, he led the way like the big bossman that he was. He noticed a loaded Olympic bar by the Smith machine. “We were just finishing up deadlifts when you pulled up,” explained Sam. “Joe was doing reps with the 860 pounds.” “That so?” said the giant farmer. “Not bad for a boy your size,” he said to Joe with a wink. Then he crouched down, grabbed the bar with an underhand grip, stood up with it, and started doing curls. He did reps with the bar like it was a broomstick. His massive triceps bulged out at the bottom of each rep. Joe’s knees wobbled at the sight, and he sat down on a nearby bench. The big boss’s arms swelled and swelled. He did twenty reps, then dropped the bar down, causing everything in the barn to jump an inch off the ground. He slapped each of his upper arms with the opposite hand. The sound of the slaps made Joe’s dick twitch. The big brute smirked in the mirror as he admired himself. “Bet they just grew another inch,” he said with satisfaction. Sam could see where Hank junior got his bravado. Outside the barn, Kurt and Hank pulled up. “Well, what have we here?” said Kurt, as he noticed the vanity plates on the big Maybach. “I didn’t think he’d actually come,” Hank said. “That’s a good thing, though, right?” “Um, sure,” answered Hank, unconvincingly, as he got out of Kurt’s truck. Kurt got out too, and they made their way to the barn. “Pa?” Hank hollered out. The three men at the back of the barn turned and headed up front. When Hank got a good look at his father, he said, “Jeezus Pa, you’re bigger than ever!” “You ain’t getting any smaller yourself, boy. Come give your old man a hug.” Hank obeyed and went up to his huge dad, who wrapped his massive arms around him and lifted him off the ground, squeezing hard, crushing his son against his giant, hairy chest. Hank grunted out as his ribcage compressed. Hank senior continued to squeeze. He linked his wrists against the small of Hank’s back and dug in harder. “Pa…fuck…I can’t breathe…” “Ah yeah, boy. No matter how big ya get, I’ll still be able to take you.” He clenched his arms together even harder. He shook his son back and forth. “Who’s the strongest man you know, boy?” His forearms bulged with power. “You are, Pa,” Standing behind the giant farmer, Sam couldn’t even see Hank junior past the sprawling back of the older man, who finally put his son down and swiped off his hands with self satisfaction. Hank went down on one knee, trying to get his breath back. “Maybe you should pick on someone closer to your size,” Kurt said. The massive farmer hooked his thumbs under his suspenders as he looked Kurt up and down. “You must be the sports guy. I was expecting you to be bigger.” Hank’s dad was 6” taller and 150lbs larger than Kurt. “Why don’t we step into the ring and see what you got?” “Works for me,” said Kurt. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. Hank senior unhooked the suspenders of his overhauls and let them drop off his huge shoulders. His enormous pecs seemed to billow out even more. “Why don’t we make it interesting?” he said. He turned and wrapped his arm around Sam’s neck and yanked him up beside him. “Let’s go two against one.” “You’re on,” Kurt said, answering for Sam, who looked like he was barely able to support the weight of the heavy arm that was pressing down on his big shoulders. The three men went over to the ring and climbed in, big, bigger, and biggest. The ring creaked under their combined weight. Hank senior took off his overalls, giving them their first look at his monstrous thighs and calves. His boxer briefs were gray with age and tattered from straining against all the bulk. “I usually limit my rassling these days to my prize hog, Brutus. Y’all ever grapple with a greased up 780lb angry pig? You should hear him squeal and squeal as I pin him down in the mud, or trap him in these legs. Can’t wait to hear what kinda noises you two fellas are gonna make.” With that, Kurt and Sam rushed the bigger man. They each grabbed a side, but the big hulk didn’t budge. He tossed them both off him and sent them flying into the ropes. Undeterred, they charged at him again. This time, the giant farmer charged back, outstretched his arms and clotheslined them square across their chests, flipping them 270 degrees in the air and onto their faces on the mat. Big Hank picked Kurt up and pressed him overhead and walked around the ring with him. Sam got up, and started punching the huge goon in his protruding, ridged roidgut. Hank looked down at him and said, “Those abs are over a foot thick of enhanced muscle, so gimme your best shots, cause I can’t even feel the ones you’re giving me now.” He stood there and let Sam work his solid abs. Sam punched on the solid gut ball over and over, harder and harder, but Hank just snorted. Sam might as well have been punching cast iron. Joe looked on with lust in his heart. He would have given his left nut to touch that protruding orb. When the huge farmer saw how he was looking at it with awe, he said, “Careful what ya wish for, little fella. I could crush your skull like a Georgia peanut with this gut.” Then he turned and readjusted his grip on Kurt, reared him back and threw him over the top rope and out of the ring. Then he grabbed Sam, twisted him around, lifted him up, and slammed him into a reverse chokehold and shook him back and forth hard. When Kurt stopped rolling across the floor of the barn, he crawled back into the ring. He ran at big Hank and shoulder tackled him right at the knees. The giant man toppled forward, right on top of Sam. Outside the ring, both Joe and Hank junior grimaced at the sound of Sam’s lungs deflating like bellows. The beast of a man rolled off Sam and onto his side, then went for Kurt. He moved remarkably fast for a behemoth, and Kurt didn’t move away from Hank’s monster quads fast enough. The huge tree trunks wrapped around him, trapping Kurt between two 49” hog-crushing thighs. Then the massive farmer locked his ankles together, and started to squeeze. His leg scissors hold was multiple times more powerful than his bearhug. Kurt grunted, and pounded his big fists into the monster thighs. Hank only chuckled. When Sam tried to get up, Hank pinned him back to the mat by pressing his index finger deep into Sam’s pec valley until it was pressing hard against his sternum. Sam struggled but couldn’t budge. “Say ‘uncle’, punks, and do it quick,” said Hank senior, as he applied more pressure with his giant thighs, and his dick-sized finger. Neither Sam nor Kurt could breathe from the immense pressure on their chests. Hank’s face bloated and reddened as he exerted more power. Veins snaked all over his hulking thighs. Suddenly, they all heard a muffled pop as one of Kurt’s ribs gave out. He stifled a cry of pain. Sam was starting to lose consciousness. Joe turned to Hank junior and said, “Do something.” That was all the motivation Hank needed to jump into the ring. He was sick of seeing his old man win at everything. He remembered all the times his juiced up pa would roughhouse with him around the house and the farm, always winning, and always taking it too far, making it hurt, telling Hank that he was just toughening him up. Now, the junior Hank wanted to see his cocky old man lose at something for once, even if it took three of them to do it. He angled behind his pa’s huge back, and applied his own chokehold around his old man’s massively developed neck. A normal man wouldn’t stand a chance of choking out that thick column of sinew, but Hank junior had been training his forearms extra hard with specialized equipment made for arm wrestling. He’d also been bending 2 1/4” rebar on a regular basis. He used that newfound muscle strength against his dad’s bullneck, and he felt it giving. So he squeezed harder. Hank senior lifted his finger off Sam’s chest and released his scissors. He stood up, with his son rear choking him. He tried to ply his son’s hold apart, to no avail. He jumped upward and threw himself onto his back, landing squarely on his son. The whole ring collapsed, the turnbuckles toppled inward, the ropes flopped loosely. Despite the full weight of his 700lb father landing on him, junior Hank not only held his chokehold, he tightened it. His father’s head nodded forward. Kurt crawled over and lifted the big man’s arm, and let it drop down with a thump. “He’s out, Hank,” Kurt said. But Hank just flared his nostrils as he tightened his grip. “Dude, stop,” Kurt said, more urgently. He put his hand on Hank junior’s arm. He couldn’t believe the titanic strength surging thru the musclebound arm. Hank only released his hold when Joe came over and said, “Bro, you did it. You took your old man down. That’s was awesome.” Hank pushed his old man off him like he was pushing over a rhino. His arms were throbbing and heavy. Kurt was holding the side of his ribcage. Sam was rubbing the contusion in the middle of his chest. The boxing ring was trashed. Hank senior came to quickly. He sat up and rubbed his welted neck as he looked around. “That was the most fun I’ve had since being a pro wrestler,” he said. “I told you I’d make a tough guy outta you, boy,” he said to his son. “Now who wants to go get something to eat?”

<< Click to read Part 2 Thank you everyone for the replies. I'm glad to see so many people like the story so far. This next part gets more spicy, and I hope you find it worth the wait. -- Part 3 Waking up the next morning was way less rough than yesterday’s debacle — until Finn realized he was already late. Cursing his failed alarm once again, but grateful for the restful sleep, he took very little time to get ready and dash. Attempting to make sure he looked more presentable than yesterday, he told himself to stand up straighter. The only thing stopping him from looking like he was ready to seize the day were his aching and sore arms, temporarily bent into the iconic dinosaur arm pose emblematic of any new lifter. “Looks like someone’s feeling the DOMS.” Brian had slipped into the break room for his morning coffee just to catch Finn grabbing a water. Finn winced as he outstretched his arm into the fridge, grimacing as he retracted his arm, bottle in hand. “If you’re talking about my arms feeling like I put them through hell, then you’re right.” “DOMS is like the soreness you feel after a workout. You’re new and you pushed yourself hard yesterday, so I can’t imagine how fucked your arms feel.” Brian glanced up from his phone. “I just don’t remember it making you look bigger. You got a tighter shirt on?” “No.” Finn looked down at himself but nothing seemed amiss. “This is my usual Friday shirt.” “Huh.” Brian’s eyes lingered for a moment as if he was ready to say something, but he ended up just looking back at his phone. Changing the topic, he brought up the trending story of the hour. “Did you see that thing about the high school in Nevada?” “I’m from Boston. Nevada’s a mystery to me. What happened?” “Look,” Brian replied, passing his phone to Finn. “It says some kid totally cratered the side of his school building during his summer class. There’s something weird about it.” Finn studied the image he was seeing: a brick-built circular building, surrounded by smoke and on the brink of collapse thanks to a massive hole seemingly punched out the side of the building. “That’s crazy. Is he enhanced?” “No one’s said yet.” Finn passed the phone back to Brian. “It’s probably some kid messing with Chitauri artifacts. You know the west loves showing it off to students.” “You think so? I think they might be hiding something.” Brian scrolled through once on his phone before starting to walk out. “Well, I gotta start working on stuff. Thanks for finding my shirt. See ya later — by the way, the beard is looking good!” It took a moment for Finn to understand what he meant before he leaned into the coffee maker, trying to catch his reflection. Sure enough, there was a very faint 5 o’clock shadow sprouting out, paired with a light dusting of hair above his lip. Finn usually preferred a clean look, but he’d never seen himself with this much hair on his face. “I gotta shave,” he muttered to himself. Finn wasted no time today, immediately getting to work on research. It wasn’t long before he settled on the Intelligencia Pod homepage, resisting the urge to listen to one of their episodes and giving them another view. Instead, Finn was fixated on their logo: a blend between a radioactive symbol and a flexing arm, in green and purple, abstracted, atop the wide bold font stating their name. It was only then that Finn dug into his bag and pulled out the empty bottle he drank from the previous day. Sure enough, tucked away in the bottom row of logos, inconspicuous yet obvious, was the very same logo. This only plunged Finn deeper into the rabbit hole, trying to find how tightly linked the two were. There was something intriguing and engrossing about this, especially as Finn discovered how the government got involved with them at some point, then their sudden renaissance over the past few years. Finn remembered graduating high school and already hearing peers mention it, although it was derided as a joke. It wasn’t long before he discovered Intelligencia Holdings. “It’s a huge conglomerate hiding in plain sight. It somehow has a cash flow of over 100 million dollars but no one talks about it!” He passionately explained the situation to Marty, who seemed stumped at every detail being told to him. Finn had rushed to Marty’s office after four hours of keeping his eyes glued to his screen. “Intelligencia isn’t supposed to be an operating company,” Marty said. “Are you absolutely sure that the two are under an actual holding company?” Finn nodded to him. “As far as I can tell, both Gamma Labs and the podcast are subsidiaries. I haven’t seen anything else of note — about every other one listed seems to be some shell company or totally defunct.” Finn passed his notebook, filled to the brim with notes and diagrams based on what he’d found, to Marty. “It actually astounds me, mainly because I found out they were around in 2022. They’re an Avengers-era corporation, and most of them did not survive.” “Intelligencia didn’t.” Marty’s voice took on a more concerned tone. “They were only supposed to be some loose online community. I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. never fully briefed us or the press on what happened with them. They just alluded to a gamma-related incident.” “And they’re involved with the Green Wave directly. Almost controlling it,” Finn said. “Gamma Labs and the podcast are trying to hide that they’re connected, especially since they don’t mention each other directly. But their logos are on each other’s websites! They’re obfuscating the truth.” Marty tossed Finn’s notebook on the table before closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “This is not where I expected this to go.” Finn stood idly before collecting the notebook. “Ok. I want you to try to compile a rushed report on any further info you can find about Intelligencia today. Down to the smallest detail.” Marty was writing down his own notes before he slapped another one on the table to give to Finn. “The fact that they’re gaining more influence so quickly is not good, and I don’t have a good read on what exactly they’d be doing getting Gen Gamma guys on board with them. Need it by Monday.” Finn quietly nodded and left. “Good work this week,” he heard Marty say behind him. “Get some rest. You earned it.” — The weekend was finally within reach after a long, confusing week of strange shifts and discoveries. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like the strangeness was going to end anytime soon. As Finn approached the front door of his apartment, a plain cardboard box placed right beside his door caught his eye. He only casually passed by it at first, glancing at it to see who it belonged to — maybe one of his neighbors would appreciate him giving it directly to them — but instead stopped slackjaw when he noticed it was addressed to him, sent from an address in South Carolina. He took it inside, gingerly placing it on his table. He wasn’t expecting any packages. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, Finn quickly looked through his email to find something that could explain what he was dealing with. He gasped when he found a thread from Gamma Labs titled “Get ready to Hulk Out. Your complimentary package is delivered.” He never remembered ordering anything. He would never order something from this circus. Yet he grabbed a pair of scissors to cut open the box, simultaneously excited and in disgusted disbelief that a Gamma Labs package was in his apartment. It took only a few swift motions before Finn pulled out a new 6 pack of Gamma Labs’ Gamma Unlock Protein Shake. It was wrapped in a deep green matte plastic, with generic fitness-oriented marketing jargon dotting its surface. He even went so far as to cut it open — but only to inspect one of the bottles. Finn picked it up, holding it in his hand as if to compare its weight to the one before, to confirm that this was the very same one. He turned it to find the Intelligencia logo, and it was there. “How the hell did this get here?” Finn slipped the bottle back into the packaging with the rest of the bottles, leaving it to sit. He tried to think of every logical, conceivable way this could’ve happened. He definitely didn’t order this today, since it would’ve needed to take at least 12 hours to get to his door. This means it must have happened in the past couple days. Even then it wouldn’t have made sense, he had no time to do it… Unless… Finn’s email search was interrupted by a notification from Britter, indicating a post from a news outlet with an update for a recent news story. “The building-leveling accident that has left a high school in shambles has been classified as a Gamma Incident,” he read aloud. “The classification for potential Enhanced-involved destruction has not been used since 2049, when Dr. Bruce Banner first announced his alleged ‘total control of the Hulk’ and retirement from hero activities with the She-Hulk, Jennifer Walters. Walters passed away at age 65 in 2057, while Dr. Banner was reported to be dead a year later at age 89. Dr. Banner’s alleged son Skaar is not on Earth.” Finn tried to understand what it meant for the very possibility of another Hulk being thrown into their world, and how it was possible. All the while, his eyes were fixated on the package of Protein Shake drinks on his countertop. — “Mmmph…” Finn was finally waking up to the sunlight pouring through the blinds of his window, casting shadows over his eyes, his neck, his chest, his legs, his stained blanket… He was beginning to realize he could feel some warm liquid pooling around his dick and saturating his boxers. With his eyes still shut, Finn slowly fumbled his hands around to feel his rapidly deflating dick through a soaked pair of shorts. He rubbed his fingers as he pulled them away, quickly recognizing the warm sticky substance. Despite something telling him exactly what it was, he was uncharacteristically relishing the sensation. “Shit. What the hell was I dreaming about…” Finn wiped his fingers on the sides of his shorts to rid them of the sticky feeling, before resting his hand on his bare chest, slowly feeling his brain turn on… Wait. His eyes shot open. There was a sudden rush to his head as he regained full consciousness. He hadn’t had a wet dream since he was 12. And he’s always went to sleep with a shirt on. Now he was fully awake. Finn suddenly scrambled upwards, feeling the air of the room against his bare torso. He felt around his bed, lightly grimacing at the feeling of the warm wet sheets (although part of him loved it), hoping to find a shirt. He instinctively felt around his body, trying to detect any sign of fabric, but failing to realize the increased toughness and tone of his still-small muscles. A million questions popped up in his head as he began to scan the rest of his room when he finally found it: a shirt of his at the foot of his bed. He jumped out of bed to retrieve it — awkwardly shuffling around as the reality of his sticky situation began to hit him — just to be shocked when he picked it up to find the shirt was ripped up. Still somehow barely holding together by literal threads, he was shocked to see the graphic tee was ripped down the middle of the collar on the back, looking like a makeshift suit, with one of the sleeves completely gone. It looked like the shirt exploded off of him. “How the hell did this happen?” he asked himself, staring and studying all the ripped edges of the shirt. Words got caught in his throat, and he could feel his heart beat even faster. Panic was setting in. Something was wrong. Something was different. This came from somewhere, didn’t it? Desperate to find an explanation, Finn spun around his room to see any sign of other damage, but instead he began to fixate on an open ballpoint pen in the middle of his bed. His favorite pen, due to its super fine point. A super sharp point. “Jesus Christ,” Finn sighed as he walked over to pick it up. He looked at it, and it became clear to him that the pen did the damage. It probably pierced a hole into that super-thin shirt, and just ripped it to shreds as he tossed and turned. He probably kicked it down to the floor in his sleep. That was a strong and reasonable explanation, Finn decided as he slipped into a new set of clothes, careful to choose a thicker shirt that won’t spontaneously rip off. What the pen did NOT explain, however, was the mess in the middle of his living room. Papers were strewn about, looking like a tornado had come in the place. Finn was not amused as he slowly walked over, studying each piece. Their origin seemed to be… “My notebook — fuck!” Finn rushed to the kitchen to find it sitting there with half of its pages torn out. His eyes darted around the small living area, trying to see where the debris of his work was placed. Thankfully, as he rummaged through the mess of destroyed and completely ripped up paper, he found all of his notes on the Green Wave intact. And when he finally collected all the unrecoverable pages to throw in the trash, he was puzzled to find a completely crushed bottle placed dead center in an otherwise empty trash bin. Familiar deep green packaging gave it away. The words ‘Gamma Unlock’ were barely visible. He knew he had it. The issue was that he didn’t remember drinking it. Not at home. At first, it was that same fear and panic as before. He could barely piece together the why and how, leaving him feeling too vulnerable in his own place of refuge. As his mind ran through several scenarios — a break-in, sleepwalking, even him somehow getting black out drunk and forgetting everything — anger began to supplant all else. Something (or someone) was fucking with his brain, and he wasn’t having it. Why did he let himself drink something that may be poison? But Finn’s logical side quickly quashed that feeling. That can’t be right. Suppressing the sudden urge to punch something, his hands shaking as pure adrenaline started pumping through, Finn turned away from the bin and the bottle. He was feeling frazzled again. The day was barely getting started, but he felt like he was losing it. He set down his notes on the Green Wave. He just needed some food in his system. In a far away mirror, he caught a glimpse of green in his eyes quickly dissipating, which he dismissed as glare from the sunlight hitting it. The thought of Gamma Labs’ history weighed in his mind. — “You know, you’re really impressing me.” Finn, sitting on one of Phelps Gym’s benches, looked up to see Brian’s stare locked onto him as he gulped down some water. “You said you weren’t that interested, but your strength gains say otherwise,” Brian said, wiping some sweat from his forehead. “Even for newbie gains, your progress has been crazy. You’re a natural, bro, it’s always been in you.” Still catching his breath, relishing the feeling of the sweat dripping down his body, Finn was in no condition to properly respond. Instead, feeling more blood rush to his face when he’s supposed to cool down, he simply replied with a small “Thank you.” Finn looked down at his hands, which were a little red from handling dumbbells and bars, feeling the energy and strength of the workout settle in. He’d never imagined his hands moving like this, pushing and pulling weights, working his muscles. There was something… satisfying about receiving validation — the kind that just affirms something that he’d been lacking. There was a certain warmth and pride that was pooling in his chest. This feeling — it’s always been in him. Brian was right. He just never let himself indulge in it. Enough blood had pumped to his brain that Finn could finally put words together again. “I doubt I could get to your level, though.” Brian chuckled. “Don’t doubt yourself, bro. I bet you’ll get here sooner than you think. Some people just got that beast waiting inside, you know.” There he went again, fueling Finn’s ideas of ‘finally becoming a man,’ even though it was a futile, regressive concept. The sound of being called ‘bro’ was also starting to sound like music to his ears — he used to hate it since it sounded dumb. Now, it made him feel less awkward around Brian. Water bottle in mouth, Brian beckoned Finn to follow him as he turned towards the locker room. Finn stood up to follow him. Recalling the story Brian shared with him yesterday, Finn decided to bring it up. “Did you see any updates on that school in Nevada?” Brian shook his head as he pushed open the doors to the locker room. “Nah. I don’t check the news outside of work. Did something happen?” “They said that it’s being investigated as a Gamma incident.” Finn watched Brian fiddle with his lock before finally taking it off. He grabbed his bag. “A Gamma incident? What, ‘cause he’s Gen Gamma?” Brian stifled a chuckle, seemingly amused by his own joke. Finn shrugged, smiling, before turning away as he pulled off his sweat stained shirt. “It would be funny if Gen Gamma was called that ‘cause we’d all turn into gamma mutates.” “You don’t even know the half of it, bro.” Brian pulled out two bottles of the Gamma Unlock shake out of his bag and passed one of them to Finn. “Here. Get your protein in.” “Thanks,” Finn said. He cracked it open, its sound muffled by the cacophony of people shuffling through the locker room and opening their own doors. “So…” Brian wiped himself with his yellowed gym towel, his noticeably pumped arms catching Finn’s attention as his hands traveled around his neck. “How’s the Gamma Wave project? Are you into it?” Finn clumsily pulled his bottle away from his mouth, followed by a hard gulp. “I don’t know, to be honest. I’m not the biggest fan — they’re all overly macho and vain. It reminds me vaguely of alpha male bullshit. That’s not really me… But I’m slowly understanding it, you know.” “Really?” Brian asked before turning away, pulling off his own shirt. before reaching into his bag to pull out a clean one. “Yeah, I mean I guess they might have some merits but as a whole…” Finn’s eyes were glued onto Brian’s wide back, and a deeper sense of admiration grew as he studied the man’s muscle insertions and mass. Gears still turning in his head, a brief flash of imagination as he envisioned himself being built just like Brian. It was quickly interrupted when he finally realized that Brian had revealed himself: “Wait, how did you know about my project?” “What do you mean?” Brian had fit himself into a plain black shirt before he turned around. The expression on his face was hard to read — was he shocked that Finn noticed? Or was he just playing it cool? “Did I tell you about it or something?” Finn stood up, partially in fear. He racked his brain for more info or any kind of memory — something — that would remind him of why Brian knew, but there was nothing. Brian stayed silent for a moment, as if he was also searching for an answer. “Marty told me,” he said finally. “I just have a small personal interest in it. Didn’t mean to spook ya, bro.” Maybe that explanation would have sufficed for any other topic, but Finn was already aware of the possible conspiracy brewing underneath the movement’s surface. While it was surely possible that Marty told Brian, it wasn’t nearly as plausible as Brian was suggesting. Finn’s mind raced as he placed himself out of gym mode and back into his typical investigative personality. “You doing anything tomorrow?” Brian asked the silent Finn as he rummaged through his locker. “Look, I have my own, uh… research that I’ve done on my own. Maybe we could meet up and I could show you.” Finn stayed silent for only a moment longer, weighing out his options. “Well…” That voice in the back of his head started whispering to him again, trying to convince him that there was nothing wrong with his bro coming over. The more logical parts of himself were trying to scream ‘No’ at him, desperate to sound off all the alarms. Yet that voice kept popping into his mind. He began to rationalize it, saying it would be an opportunity to gain insights he didn’t have before, and inevitably… Brian stuck his head out of his locker. “Well?” Finn bit his lip before speaking. “I don’t have anything else to do tomorrow, so…” He pulled out his own shirt, bracing himself for what he was about to say. “Sure. I mean… Yeah. I’d like to see what you got.” Brian grinned. “Sick. Think we could do some time in the afternoon or something?” Finn stared off into the distance. “Yeah…” There was a strange sense of obligation motivating his choices that he couldn’t explain. Was this the right choice? — Tossing and turning in bed once again, Finn was feeling feverish. No matter whether he pulled off his blanket or not, there was a warmth building inside, and he was on the verge of sweat. He couldn’t sleep like this. He got up, feeling tiredness under his eyes, yet empowered by his racing mind. Brian’s words, in retrospect, were too suspicious. Between his sudden friendship with him and his way-too-influential perspectives on things, Brian was acting on his own agenda. He had to have some kind of connection with the Green Wave, right? Venturing out of his bedroom into the dim common area, Finn opened up his old laptop and flicked on one of his lamps. With its fans whirring to life indicated it was booting up, he took his time to enter the kitchen and picked up another green Gamma Labs bottle. He had to admit it was starting to taste good to him. Two in a day wouldn’t hurt, right? Returning to his laptop, Finn wasted no time in diving into research — this time, into Brian Watson. However, TikKot, Pinstergram, Britter, ConnectOn, hell even dinosaur platform Facebook had little to offer or illuminate about the man. Finn thought that maybe he was just overreacting — but in the post-digital age, it made no sense that someone like Brian would practically be a ghost online. There was little trace of any activity, which Finn did not expect at all. “What are you hiding?” Finn muttered to himself as he combed through dozens of mundane posts, the newest being uploaded over a year ago. He had no patience for this and decided to move onto more pressing matters. And those pressing matters were about to make him angry, as the Phelps’ Gym website was NOT user-friendly at all. The broken website was poorly designed, looking like it was made decades ago — during the Avengers era! — but struggled to balance its dated aesthetic with its attempts at modern involvement. There were dozens of pages to jump into, but Finn couldn’t find the membership sign up at all. “Maybe it’d be better to just go in person… Wait!” Finn scrolled down from the home page and scoffed. There it was, a plain text link indicating a place to sign up, pushed all the way to the bottom of the page. Finn laughed at the continued incompetence of these meatheads, but his expression dropped when he noticed what was right under it: that damn Intelligencia logo. Finn’s heart dropped as his expression twisted. How is something like Intelligencia involved with a stupid small-scale gym chain? The gears in his brain were turning once again, and Finn couldn’t help but scour through the entire website, trying to find any inkling of information. When even clicking the logo yielded no information, Finn dove deeper. The company’s public archives, business filings, anything. Absentmindedly draining the bottle of his Gamma Labs drink, Finn opened a new document to fill with new information about the gym. His 15 minute cyberstalking had quickly turned into over two hours worth of online research, wandering into the darkest parts of the internet. And in his folly, he had come across a treasure trove of leaked documents that went beyond just Intelligencia Holdings’ strange dealings. “Experiments on mental modification using subliminal techniques, serums and formulas based on the DNA of the Hulk…” His rapidfire typing only made the new discovery of information more intense, unloading it all into the document on his computer. “Jesus Christ… These people are insane!” Implications stemming from this discovery hadn’t yet occurred to him, his empty Gamma Unlock shake bottle sitting on the corner of his dining room table. It would never come up in his mind, as just as he found a whole new slew of undeciphered documents on the Dark Web detailing some kind of large-scale plan for apparent ‘recruitment,’ his computer itself went completely dark. “What?” Finn’s feverish rush had now started slowing down, his signature feeling of panic arising once again. Repeated clicking and keyboard hits didn’t do anything, and even though the screen was all black, it had a soft glow indicating it was still somehow on. On the 30th hit of the space bar, something finally appeared on his screen. A look of horror came across Finn’s face as an icon of a skull with crossbones popped up in all red before revealing his desktop. Then, a pop up smack dab in the middle of the screen. Any attempt to remove it failed. “‘Thanks for visiting Parah’s Leaked Docs. If you’d like to keep reading or keep your files, you must send 0.15 BTC to this address’?” Finn read aloud. “‘All files from the past 14 days have been encrypted and will be effectively deleted until we receive payment.’ Fuck, no!” He was lucky enough to be able to still navigate his computer, but going back to where the document was supposed to be saved revealed that all his files on the Gamma Project were in fact gone. “No… No, no, no…” He hurriedly checked his recycle bin, and spent a few minutes looking through every folder he could. “No, no… NO! FUCK!” The panic and anxiety in his chest was starting to burn. No, it wasn’t anxiety at all… Finn slammed his laptop closed with a kind of viciousness he’d never expressed before. “All of my fucking work… Jesus fuck… It’s all… GONE!” He slammed a fist into his table, surprised at the relief he felt in spite of the anger beginning to bubble over inside him. “STUPID fucking website…” Finn was seeing red. He could barely think. He could barely talk. He could hear the blood in his ears pumping hard and faster, if the rough beating in his chest wasn’t enough. Gritting his teeth he almost growls, before getting up and chucking his laptop to the ground. “Stupid fucking LAPTOP.” Something was telling him there was something wrong. He doesn’t get angry. He doesn’t get pissed at a little computer virus. He doesn’t show his anger. But that was superseded by the voice in the back of his head goading him on, asking him to let out his anger, tempting him with the pure satisfaction of unleashing everything he’s ever contained on the inside. Unable to control himself, he jumped up and started punching his chair, knocking out its frame and kicking it down. He wasn’t seeing red, he was seeing green, just like Banner — no, just like the Hulk. He deserved a little release. “I’m fucking better than those internet hermits…” Finn felt desperate to get out of his clothes. He deserved more than just release. “Who the fuck do they think they are, messing with a motherfucker like me— agh!” His vision blurred as a sharp pain hit behind his eyes, causing him to cover his eyes, applying light pressure. It wasn’t long before all his muscles started to feel like they were burning, much more intense than how he’s been feeling after his workouts. Finn felt like his body was on fire, tingling reaching every nerve, but as he finally removed his hands from his eyes, revealing his brown eyes had become a bright, radioactive, toxic light green, there was something he didn’t expect about the sensation. He liked it. Letting his uncontrollable, raw, primal anger take hold of his personality, Finn moaned as he stepped away from the table but fell to the ground in a sudden spell of dizziness. He was breathing heavily, trying to calm his fast beating heart, but his hand felt strange as he rested it on his chest. It felt swollen. Thicker. Bigger. He tried to feel his own hands, which felt tougher and more calloused. “What the fuck… What is…” Another soft moan suddenly escaped his lips as a wave of energy, pain, and pleasure rocked his being. Even the smallest shift intensified the feeling. So much so that he didn’t even realize his shirt was much tighter than it was just moments ago. The euphoric feeling made his eyes roll to the back of his head as his cock stiffened in his shorts. Finn’s hands rolled into fists as he punched into the floor, cracking the apartment’s cheap tile. He looked at his hands with shock and awe before realizing a green patch of skin appearing along his knuckles, quickly spreading across his hands and past his wrist. He couldn’t process it at first, but as he recalled that documentary featuring Dr. Banner, it became abundantly clear what was happening. “I’m Hu—” He coughed as his throat became scratchy. “I’m… I’m HULKing… Out…” His voice began to crack as it oscillated between his normal human timbre and a deep, beastly, brutish tone. Finn looked up at the mirror hanging by the dining room table, the same one that revealed to him his own eyes going green that morning, that he so foolishly dismissed. This time, his eyes were glowing, unchanging, locked onto his growing silhouette beginning to resemble Brian more than it resembled himself. Those eyes. Those glowing green eyes. Why did it only make him more horny? The intern stumbled upward, hunched forward, to try to get a better look, but groaned once more as he could feel his legs stretch upward, pushing him taller. His neck cracked as it thickened, traps rising upward as if he’d been doing pull ups for years, his shoulders broadening and growing gamma green boulders as delts, his arms bulging with biceps that rivaled the size of his head and triceps that looked like they were carved from marble. “Ugh… Ungh… FUCK!” Every conscious part of his being attempted to fight the feeling, resisting the urge to relish the feeling of his muscles finally beginning to swell, just like Banner would. But everything that Brian had told him, all the words he’d absorbed from those TikKot videos, all the aspirations of ‘true’ masculinity popped up in his head. “On beast mode…” He huffed out. “Bigger… Stronger… BETTER.” It had barely registered to Finn that he wasn’t ‘losing control’ of himself like Banner. It felt like he was even more in control than ever before. Still hunched over, he flexed and stretched his back — leading to a loud RRRIP as his shirt gave way to his widening back, revealing a new muscular V shape to his torso, getting more pronounced by the second as his lats flared. It wasn’t long after that he forced his biceps to BURST through his sleeves, completely destroying his shirt. Finn’s anxiety was no more, but so was his rage. That unfettered, primal rage had faded, replaced by the feeling of pure POWER. He started to chuckle as he pulled his shirt off his body, revealing his ballooning pecs and abs bigger and more defined than any washboard, topped off with a slight dusting of dark green hair on his emerald chest climbing down his abs and past his waistband. That waistband would soon become the next victim of his hulkout. His insatiable boner couldn’t take confinement anymore. With a quick flex of his now huge thighs, the seams of his shorts finally burst open, revealing chiseled, green, gamma-powered muscle that could crush skulls. His calves also grew impossibly large, continuing to stretch as his height grew far beyond that of Finn’s original 5’10” frame. Then his socks finally gave way, turning into nothing more than tattered white cotton, a failure to its purpose. Finn couldn’t take it anymore. His gamma cock was begging for release. With a swift motion, he snapped the waistband of his bloated boxers, finally allowing his engorged erection some room. “There we go,” he bellowed deeply. It was bigger than he ever remembered it being, looking closer to 10 inches than his puny 4, thicker and bulging with veins, like the rest of his muscles. A deep haze settled on his mind as his Hulk transformation finally came to an end. Finn was confused. He felt euphoric. He wasn’t himself. He felt more like himself than ever. He couldn’t think, but his purpose was clearer than ever. There was no trace of the messy-haired, scrawny, principled intern. No, standing in his place, flexing cockily and curiously in the mirror, a smirk plastered on his face, was a 7-foot gamma-powered emerald beast in his place, bigger and more muscled than ever before. The feeling of pure power and superiority were all on his mind, driving his thoughts and instinct. Finn was hulked out into a walking embodiment of the Green Wave’s idea of the Hulk. And he fucking loved it. And with his hard cock standing at attention, Finn had no time to think before the rest of the night became a blur.

Part 3A "Come with me," I said, and grabbed his hand. My heart was pounding in my chest. This dude wanted my cock, and I was going to give it to him. And I'd leave this building even bigger than when I entered. He didn't protest in the slightest, either. I pulled him behind me as we exited the cafeteria and entered the performing arts center which was attached to the same building. There was a private bathroom on the second floor with a locking door, and I was going to take him there. We stomped up the stairs and fortunately there were very few people around. The bathroom was unoccupied. I threw open the door and made sure he was inside with me before letting it shut. I locked the door. Before I could even turn around, his hands were feeling up my arms and I almost didn't even want to turn around. There's just something about having your arms felt. You can almost feel your own hard muscle under someone else's fingers. I extended my arms all the way and flexed my triceps, letting the muscle bulge out from behind my arms. "Fuck," he said, and his hands were instantly upon them. My cock was throbbing against the door. I turned around and saw his brief look of disapproval. I flexed my arms again, facing him, my biceps once again bulging up against my sleeves in a double bicep pose. "Jesus your muscles are hot," he muttered, before he reached out and grasped my arms again, this time with much greater fervor than in the cafeteria. Feeling his hands on my biceps was incredible. It's one thing to feel the cloth of my shirt trying to contain my biceps, but feeling someone else's hands against them was even better. My cock was aching at this point. I grabbed his face with my right hand and kissed him hard. He didn't resist and kissed back, moaning within my mouth as his tongue danced with mine. I pulled my face off his and said "Blow me. Right now" as my left hand was already undoing the drawstring. He knelt down and helped me finish the job as our heavy breathing echoed off the bathroom walls. My shorts fell and I was astonished yet again by the sight of my quads. They weren't huge by any means, but they were definitely thicker. I deliberately flexed them, though, to see what I was missing when I was walking to the cafeteria earlier. The individual heads of muscle were almost visible. And this wasn't lost on him, either, as he took a moment to run his hands along my thighs, squeezing the hard muscle. My angry throbbing cock wasn't going to be patient for much longer, though, as I thrust myself forward and slapped him in the face with it. "Suck me, dude," I breathed. My own behavior was confusing my brain as I was saying things and doing things I would never have done in the past. My actions seemed to be guided not by my brain, though, but by my throbbing cock. He didn't waste a moment and instantly had his tongue dancing along my shaft. He licked the length of its underside which sent shivers down my spine. "Mmmm" I moaned, and he increased the speed of his licking. "Fuck, you taste good," he muttered between licks. "Wait 'til you get to the filling," I said, suddenly pleased with myself for such a swift and witty response. "Mmmf" he grunted as he took the head of my cock into his mouth, flitting his tongue all around it. His hands moved back onto my legs and his fingers were kneading the muscle beneath. I took this as a sign to flex, and I felt my legs harden into muscular strength. I watched his hands literally get pushed out by the muscle bulging, but he kept on rubbing the muscle. It felt amazing. So fucking good. It enhanced the feeling my cock was experiencing as his tongue kept its pace licking and flitting around my slit with the head in his mouth. "Ungh" I grunted in pleasure. And then he swallowed more of my cock, taking in more of its length. The heat of his mouth was far more intense than just my hand, with which I'd become all too familiar, which I already knew from my last two blowjobs, but this time it was seemingly more pronounced. I'd gotten too used to just jerking off. The pleasure of a blowjob was intensely greater than just masturbating in front of my computer screen. His tongue was dancing along my shaft, and every few seconds he'd take in a bit more of it. My cock was apparently pretty big, according to the first dude who sucked me off, and this dude was taking in its length like a champ. Slurping noises were becoming more pronounced as he continued to suckle on it, and the pleasure only increased. "Ooof" I grunted again as my entire cock was down his throat. "Hmmhf" he moaned as he continued to suck me, feeling my legs, almost massaging them. It felt sooo fucking good, especially considering the new muscle in my legs. I could see his own cock was tenting his shorts as he knelt before me, but I wasn't too concerned with it. It was hot, don't get me wrong, but I was only concerned with achieving my own climactic pleasure. I had one hand behind his head, running my fingers through his hair. He had silky hair, very nice to touch. But the dual purpose of my hand on his head was to keep his head on my cock, in case he tried to pull off for any reason. He was going to finish this. He gave no indication of stopping, but I felt like I should take measures to prevent any attempts he could make to pull away. I was so close to achieving more growth. Nothing was going to stop it. I flexed my other arm for myself. I was getting really eager for my cock to explode, and seeing my own bicep flex into hardness was enhancing the experience. The sleeve tightened once again around the muscle, the cloth digging into my skin. Such a rush to feel that sensation. "Oh fuck yyyeahhh" I moaned, feeling the pressure building within my balls. My bicep was so defined. I don't think it fully sank in yet that it was, in fact, my own arm. The definition was perfect. A nice vein was protruding from my skin across the peak of my bulging bicep and I could almost see it throbbing as it pushed my blood through my body, getting ready to feed my muscles with the growth I knew was coming. "Ommmfff" he moaned again, and I saw his eyes looking at my bicep flexing. He was a muscle fag, too, just like the last guy who sucked me off. Of course, I knew that I was a muscle fag. But now I possessed a body I could easily jerk off to. And I was getting bigger. There was a wet spot on his crotch, and I supposed he was leaking pre into his shorts. I pumped my bicep a few times, enjoying feeling that cloth tighten around it each time. Fuck yes. It suddenly occurred to me that my sleeves might bust open in a few moments. And just that thought alone sent me over the edge. "Oh god--unghh--here it coooomes..." I grunted and groaned. My arm fell to my side. My cocksucker didn't know it, but I meant that in two ways. My cum, and the growth that will follow. The pressure reached its zenith. That telltale feeling when you know you're about to explode cum through your cock. And I don't mean those weak-ass ejaculations you sometimes get from a lackluster experience. No. This one was explosive. It was the kind that always makes your cock get even harder right before shooting. It was welling up from deep within my balls, and my cock was about to shoot cum harder than a firehose. I felt him squeeze the backs of my legs as he braced himself. He didn't try to pull away, and I was afraid he might when he knew I was going to cum. He held on. But I kept my hand behind his head anyway just in case. I needed him to swallow all of it. It may not have mattered, but every time I grew, the cocksucker swallowed my load. I wasn't going to take any chances. "Oh g--" and my voice caught in my throat as I felt the first explosion launch from my cock. "Ahh!" I shouted with a somewhat failed attempt at remaining subdued. I didn't want anyone outside the bathroom to hear too much. I obviously couldn't see it, but the volley that exploded from my cock felt huge, and he was struggling to gulp and swallow it all. He didn't gag, though, which was good. "Don't you--*huff*--spill a drop--AHH" and I shot again, another strong volley right into the back of his throat. "MMFF" he made a sound. I couldn't tell if it was of enjoyment or otherwise, but I didn't care. "Fuck yessss" I breathed, before shooting once again. I could feel the energy creeping into my muscles. A new show was about to begin. "Ungghgod," I groaned, as I felt what I assume was one last trailing shot. I gripped his hair, a clump of it within my hand. I was glad he had long-ish hair so I could even do this. I pulled him off my cock, and I realized as it slid out of his mouth that it was just as hard and throbbing as before I came. He was panting, and I could tell the inside of his mouth was coated with my spunk. He looked up at me, one eye closed, and I absolutely loved how my forearm was flexing as I held his hair within my hand. "Watch what you just did to me, little boy," I said with a deliberate attempt at deepening my voice. Why, though? I couldn't help but realize I was talking way differently from how I usually would. 'Little boy'? Did I mean to call him that? My thoughts on my strangely different demeanor were going to have to wait, because the power within my body was coming to its climax and I knew I was about to grow. I pulled on his head a little more until he lost his balance and fell backwards, and as I released his hair from my hand, I could feel the first changes happening to my body. He lay on the cheap tile of the floor of the bathroom and didn't make any attempt to sit up. I felt my body pulse. "You're gonna miss the show!" I shouted. He sat up on his elbows and glanced at me with a bemused expression as I stood there, my breaths shallow but deep. His tent was still pronounced in his shorts. My chest was heaving as my cock remained straight up and out, throbbing and still drooling onto the floor. My shorts remained down around my ankles but that's where I wanted them to stay. And my shirt... well, I definitely wanted that to stay on. For now. I wasn't even going to attempt to reconcile how I was still hard and throbbing. It felt too good to care. Nothing beats being hard and horny. "Ohhh fuck--ngh--yeahhh" I groaned, and I felt it happening. The shirt suddenly felt tighter around my shoulders and lats, and I could see within my peripheral vision that my shoulders were growing larger; they were spreading ever-so-slightly farther apart. My cocksucker's eyes widened. "Fuck yes," I breathed, seeing his reaction. "Unghh" I grunted as I felt growth entering my chest. My pecs were definitely swelling as I felt them flexing on their own. The muscle was bunching up against the fabric of the shirt, and it was tightening even further across my chest. I looked down, trying to see what was happening, and all I could see was my chest was pushing further and further out. My growing pecs caused the shirt to ride up and expose my abs. "Holy fucking shit!" exclaimed my cocksucker. GOD I needed to learn their names. I couldn't just keep referring to them as Cocksucker. Or... maybe I could. Cocksucker number one, cocksucker number two, and now cocksucker number 3. They could have their own t-shirts. I laughed inwardly at myself. But then I shook my head. My nerdy personality was rearing its ugly head and I needed to dispel it. He clambered to his feet, almost tripping over himself twice in the process. He had to brace himself by putting his hands on the wall, but his eyes never left my body. He had an almost hungry look in his eyes as he stared at my muscles. It was lust. I could see he was gathering his senses, and I felt my abs etching themselves deeper into my lower torso. My hands ran over my abs, and yes, they were definitely more defined. Tighter. Harder. I chuckled as I felt the orgasmic pleasure across my body as growth continued to flow through my limbs. The only way to describe it was like that amazing feeling you get in your cock as it hardens and grows from sensually intense arousal, only in my entire musculature. My hands wandered lower to right above my crotch, and my fingers traced my developing Adonis belt. "Fuck yeah," I said again, realizing that was a phrase I'd probably be using a lot. Adonis belts are so fucking hot, and I had one of my own. Suddenly my cocksucker reached for me, and I put my hand up to stop him. "Not yet. Still--" and I gasped, feeling my ass suddenly tighten as my glutes bulged on their own, growing tighter against the door against which I was still standing, "--grrrrowwwwwingg" I groaned, and I felt my legs flex uncontrollably and I could feel them swelling against each other. I had to spread my legs wider and I looked down and saw individual heads of muscle in my quads as they defined themselves before our eyes. "Yessss," I breathed, loving the fact that my legs were achieving the definition I longed for. My calves bulged bigger as well, adding mass and thickening my lower legs. I loved how they were tapering up from my thin ankles, creating a stark contrast. They used to be so skinny. My cocksucker looked frustrated as he stood there watching me. He looked almost frantic, and I could tell he was fighting his desire to worship me. Me! What a rush! His breathing was shallow, and I could see he was leaking profusely into his own shorts as his tent remained ever-prominent. He wanted so badly to feel my body. "How the fuck are you doing this?" he asked. "Just watch," I muttered quietly as I waited for the best part to come. And it was coming, alright. That orgasmic erection-like feeling was spreading across my back, and I felt it widening, thickening, made ever-so-more evident by the further tightening of my shirt. Stress lines were appearing in the cloth as it was being pulled much tighter than it was ever meant for. I rolled my more bulbous shoulders forward, forcing the shirt to tighten greater across my back, and I heard threads snap. "Oh yeah, here we go," I said, and repeated the action. Threads continued snapping, and I could feel the tingling entering my arms. FUCK. I rolled my shoulders forward once more and RRIIPPP the shirt tore down the center of my back. "FUCK!" my cocksucker shouted. He whipped his hand around his dick without even taking it out of his shorts and started jerking himself. "More!" I shouted in response, and I actually brought my arms up in front of my face and watched them, waiting for them to follow the rest of my body. My forearms were pulsing before my eyes, throbbing with each beat of my heart. And it was beating fast, I was so excited. Veins were wrapped around them, my muscle-blood fueling the muscle. They thickened, and I knew the best part was coming. "Aww fuck yeah," I cockily said, and flexed my arms up into my new favorite pose, double-biceps. The sleeves tightened around the muscles, and immediately I could tell they were tighter than before. I straightened my arms, and then flexed again. The sleeves dug into my skin, trying to contain my biceps as they throbbed and grew bigger. Threads snapped. I heard it clearly, and the sound even echoed off the bathroom walls. I looked at my cocksucker and his hand was furiously jerking his cock through his shorts. He was panting, and watching me intently as I continued to transform in front of his eyes. I looked from one bicep to the other, the sleeves still holding on. I don't know which threads snapped, but more were about to. I straightened my arms and flexed again, and this time both biceps surged bigger and my sleeves exploded apart, POP! And two mountains had risen from my arms, exposed entirely, each one with a throbbing vein running across its peak. "FUCK YES!" "Oh fuck, oh god," my cocksucker muttered and I glanced back at him to see him still jerking, but a large wet spot growing on his shorts. "Ohh fuck," he grunted again, and I saw his jerking stop, but his hand continued to grip his bulge through his shorts. His whole body appeared rigid as he stood there, his eyes closed. The wet spot continued to grow. Seeing this dude's cock just go apeshit over my growth sent me over yet another edge as my still hard, throbbing, drooling cock exploded once more. "OHHH FUCK!" I hollered as I felt the explosion well up almost instantly and shoot from my dick, spraying my cocksucker right in the face with the first long, hot, white rope of cum. And then another shot, not as big as the first, but large enough that it almost reached him. And then one more, before it turned into a dribble as cum just puddled all over the floor. And... holy shit, I looked down at my cock and did it... look bigger? I'd have to explore that some more later. Right now, I had a shirt on that was ruined, a large tear down the back and sleeves that were ripped to shreds, and shorts I wasn't sure would fit over my thicker legs. And a little cocksucker covered in my cum and some of his own. Oh boy. How do we get out of this situation without drawing any attention? I felt my insecurities creeping back into my brain as I started thinking of how this might go if someone catches us walking out of a bathroom together with cum all over the place. "Shit" I seethed as I bent over and pulled my shorts up my muscled legs. I moved slow to make sure I didn't accidentally rip them. And, as I brought them up over my quads, I was relieved that they still fit, the stretchy cloth containing them. My thin waist was of no concern, but where my legs were thickest definitely showed through the shorts, now. My cocksucker was stirring, as well, and I was almost concerned he might've passed out since he was so quiet. But he was attempting to wipe away the cum from his face with some toilet paper. He saw me looking at him. "Fuck, dude, how did you do that?" "I legit don't know, man. I just grow when my cock is sucked." "Hottest thing I've ever seen in my life." "Hottest thing I've ever felt in my life. Not even a week ago I was a skinny twig. Then I got my first blowjob. And then another. And now the one you just gave me." I flexed to accentuate my new musculature and my bicep exploded from my arm. It was so hot. To see that muscle which was only just a bump on my arm not long ago. "Fuck yeah," I muttered to myself. The muscle on my body made me forget the possible embarrassment over what transpired in here. I looked into the mirror and saw a jock looking back. "Hey, uh, think we could leave separately? I just wanna make sure no questions arise as to why two dudes were in the bathroom together. Not that I care, I just don't wanna waste my time answering them." I continued to look into the mirror. I tucked my fingers into my torn collar and watched my forearms flex as I ripped it apart, rending my shirt down the center and watched my torso come into full view. "FUCK," I said aloud, looking at two thick pecs, a clear six-pack, round shoulders with visible striations, and even traps. I had that coveted V-taper going, too. FUCK, I was hot! My arms bulged at my sides as I held the rag that was once my shirt. "But--" he started to protest, I assume. "Thanks, bro. Here--" I tossed the rag that was once my shirt at him, and it landed over his head and face, "--use that to clean up. I'll see ya around, alright?" and I unlocked the door and walked out of the bathroom, my bare torso on display for all to see. I didn't even care. The few people who were even around looked, of course, but no one complained. In fact, almost every look I got was one of lust or pure wonder. I felt myself strutting as I walked. My mind, at first, wanted to correct myself and walk normally, but the thought quickly dissipated. I deserved to strut. I was hot. And, as I exited the building into the hot sunlight, I realized a tan would look really good. And I realized something else. I definitely did leave the building even bigger than when I entered.

We need another chapter!

Supreme man

Ever since he had hit puberty, Hank had been an alpha. His dad got him into lifting weights when he was twelve, and his strength and size took off. By the time he was 15, he had a 48” chest and was benching 405. He swaggered around school like he was a god, which is exactly how he felt, and how most of the kids treated him. His swollen ego was also fed by the fact that his dad was a very wealthy pig farmer, who also owned half the county and a ton of real estate in Atlanta. By the time he was 17, the assistant football coach was sick of the hillbilly rich boy attitude, and decided to teach the him a lesson. The coach was a beefy bruiser, who had once been a competitive arm wrestler of some renown. So one day, in front of the whole team, he challenged Hank to a friendly match. Hank had never arm wrestled before, but he just shrugged and said, “Sure, whatever.” Unfortunately for the 35 year old coach, his strength was no match for the jacked up teen. Hank beat him with such ease, they were both surprised. Down went the coach’s right hand, bam, to the table. Delight spread across Hank’s face, and he slowly stripped off his shirt. “Jeezus,” muttered the coach. He’d seen a lot of jocks in his time, but never one that looked chiseled out of Georgia granite. “Again,” said Hank, putting his arm back up. He’d just finished doing 100lb dumbbell curls, and his upper arm bunched up like a melon. The coach couldn’t back down now. He reluctantly put his hand into Hank’s. Then BAM, down went his arm, even harder this time. “Gawd dammm, this is fun!” crowed Hank. “Now the left arm,” he said eagerly, flexing his arm and kissing the peak before softly setting his elbow on the table, a big smirk on his face. They matched up again and went. Hank wrenched the coach’s wrist till it made a crackling sound, then slammed him to the table. He laughed in the coach’s face. “Little pussy,” he sneered, then he flexed his solid 18” farmboy arms. “Little fuckin’ pussy.” The coach went red-faced with humiliation, and slunk away. The next day, as news spread thru the school of Hank’s total domination, the coach submitted his resignation. After that, Hank got into arm wrestling in a big way. At first, he just showed up to every local competition he could find. Many of them were at dive bars, where he was already built better than any of the bouncers. Between his swagger and the musk coming off his imposing physique, it was easy for him to steal their girlfriends, and he loved doing it. Sometimes two or three a night. Every step of the way, he got better and bigger and stronger, secretly aided by the hormones that his pa had been feeding him since he was fourteen. The same ones Pa fed to his most prized hogs, some of which were now over 750lbs of musclebound pork. Hank jerked off to the thought of getting that fucking massed up, and it fueled his ego, his feelings of superiority, until by the time he was 22, he had become the swaggering dickhead that had sat down with Kurt for an interview. Now, at the barn, everything had been turned upside down for Hank. Sam and Kurt used his ass as their own personal cum bucket, trading him off like a toy, and he loved every second of it. He couldn’t believe how much he loved being plowed, especially by Kurt. He ached for Kurt’s huge member to turn his big squared-off boulder of an ass into prime pussy. They had taken him back to his hotel to get his stash of pills and gear, and he moved into the barn, sleeping in the hayloft, just like he used to do back on the pig farm. Kurt had started him on the herbal shakes, and within two weeks, Hank was up to 249lbs of strapping redneck muscle. The three of them lifted together every day, and when Sam and Kurt went to work, Hank lifted some more. He lifted until he was so bloated that he felt like his skin was going to split. All the gear pulsing thru him was making him grow broader and thicker. His bulging forearms pumped almost big as his bi’s. When he looked in the mirror he saw what his opponents were going to be seeing at his next competition. “Aw, yeah,” he thought with a cocky smirk. “Fuckin’ losers are gonna piss themselves.” When he imagined himself snapping arms like twigs, he spewed all over the mirror.

As he drove towards Kurt’s place, Sam realized that he had neglected to shower. The car stank like gym rat, and despite the defroster being on full, the windows were fogging up. He was getting turned on by his own funk. He got to Kurt’s and knocked on the door. He heard Kurt yell that the door was open. He went inside. He found a shirtless Kurt in the kitchen, prepping dinner. Sam’s dick jumped at the sight of the huge powerlifter’s arms and delts rippling as he diced vegetables. “What’s up?” asked Kurt without looking up from the cutting board. Sam peeled off his tee and dropped it. Sam’s upper body glistened with sweat, and, standing under the recessed lighting of the kitchen, he looked like he was on stage. His pumped body was highlighted perfectly. Kurt looked up, and Sam flexed his arms, then cocked his waist at an angle in a pose he had seen of classic bodybuilders. “Well well well,” said Kurt, putting down his knife and walking around his island and over to Sam. “Look at you, you handsome fuck.” Kurt ran his heavily calloused palms up and down Sam’s sides, scraping against Sam’s tight satiny skin like coarse sandpaper. Sam got goosebumps. “You like these big hands on you, Sam?” Sam grunted yes. Kurt squeezed Sam’s ribs with his meaty fingers. He pressed his thumbs into Sam’s sides. Sam gasped in pain. He’d never felt hands with so much strength. It made his dick pulse. “Your hard little muscles are hot as fuck, but I could still kick the shit out of you,” Kurt whispered in Sam’s ear. Then Kurt lifted him up. The big powerlifting sportscaster held Sam in midair by his waist. “You’re like a little Ken doll in my hands. My own Weatherman Ken,” said Kurt. Then he pressed Sam overhead, and started doing reps with him. “My little toy doll plaything,” growled Kurt, as he used Sam’s 210lb bodyweight as a barbell. He pressed him for 20 slow, steady reps, saying “Ah yeah. Ah fuck yeah,” as he held Sam high overhead. Then he shifted all Sam’s weight over to his left arm, and held him aloft as he flexed his right arm. “Fuck, so goddam strong,” snarled the big hulk. They had both grown hard. Then Kurt took Sam and pinned him up against the wall. He crushed his fingers into Sam’s extended arms. “Aw fawk,” groaned Sam. He felt like he was being manhandled by a super villain. His hardon pushed out the fabric of his sweatpants. Kurt mouthed Sam’s dick thru the sweats. Sam wrapped his legs around Kurt’s bulked up hairy torso. Kurt used his teeth to pull Sam’s waistband over his hardon, then he went down on him. “Sweetgeezus,” moaned Sam, as the big bullnecked man worked him. Sam arched the small of his back out as Kurt bobbed slowly up and down the hard shaft. Kurt’s powerful fingers dug deeper into Sam’s arm flesh. With the combination of excruciating pain and extreme pleasure, Sam couldn’t hold out long. And when he let it fly, it was the most voluminous ejaculation he’d ever experienced. Thick, long blasts of semen. Over and over. Ten times the amount he’d ever produced. When he was finally drained, Kurt slid his feet to the floor and let him go. Sam slid down to his ass on the kitchen tile, spent. He looked up at Kurt, who towered over him with his massive frame. The big man’s hairy stomach protruded out like a roid gut. Kurt wiped his mouth with the back of his veiny forearm and said, “My turn.” He undid his pants, pulled them down over his swollen dick and tree trunk thighs. Sam had a moment mixed with panic and desire, as he thought Kurt was going to try and shove his huge whopper down his throat. The head alone was big as a fist. Kurt noticed the trepidation on Sam’s face and assured him he wouldn’t face fuck him. “First you’d gag, then you’d choke, and your eyes would get all teary. Then your lips would turn blue from lack oxygen. It never goes well. I haven’t had a good blow job in years. On the other hand,” he said, leaning over and picking Sam off the floor. “I know your ass can take it.” Kurt tossed the cutting board full of chopped vegetables into the sink. Then he bent Sam over the kitchen island. At first, the granite countertop was cold on his torso, but his body heat warmed it up fast. Kurt used his own precum to lube them both up. Sam grabbed onto the edges of the granite slab and held on for dear life as Kurt used his battering ram cock on him like a medieval weapon. Kurt grunted with each deep thrust, and Sam groaned. The island creaked and shifted with each thrust, until the base cracked off the floor, and began to inch across the kitchen. It finally slammed into the counter so forcefully that the cabinet doors opened up as dishes and glasses spilled out and shattered on the countertop. As Kurt started cumming, he roared louder, and the island started buckling. He grabbed the 500lb slab along with Sam’s 210lbs and lifted it up in his powerful arms. He stepped backwards and tipped the slab upward, causing Sam to slide down deeper onto Kurt’s mega cock. Kurt continued ram into him as he held the slab in midair. He finally set the slab onto the floor and laid down on top of Sam, letting his seed continue to pump into Sam’s ass. “Kurt, dude, you’re crushing me,” groaned Sam from under the massive powerlifter sprawled on top of him. Kurt pulled out of Sam, then rolled off of him onto the floor with a loud thump. “Whoa,” he said as he stroked his still-hard dick. Then he stood up. He put one hand on each side of his head. His biceps bulged up almost the same size of his skull. Then he pushed his head to one side, then the other, cracking his neck so hard it would have broken the spine of a normal human, but only realigned his cervical vertebrae. He looked down at Sam, and noticed his beet red ass cheeks and the finger shaped bruises coming out on his arms. “You look like you were run over by a tank,” he said. “I sort of was,” said Sam, as he rolled over and sat up. “Your kitchen looks like it too.” Kurt laughed. “I’ve seen worse.” He went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a glass bottle. “Here, looks like you could use some of this.” Sam took a big chug of the herbal drink. “My ranch foreman said to never have more than one a day, but what harm could it do?” said Kurt, as Sam finished the bottle, his second of the day. Sam almost choked on his last gulp. “What do you mean?” “Apparently there’s some ancient folklore about too much of a good thing. I’m sure it’s fine. Maybe you’ll just put on an extra ten pounds of muscle this month.” Sam relaxed a little. “Or maybe I’ll gain another inch or two on my dick.” “That’d be a good start,” said Kurt. Sam looked at Kurt’s huge appendage, swinging between his overdeveloped quads and still dripping cum. Yeah, that would definitely be a good start.

Once they got to Kurt’s place, the onslaught on Sam’s ass continued. Kurt had the stamina of a rutting bull. He only needed about five minutes between rounds before he was ready to go again. He made the doors and windows rattle with his powerful thrusting. By the end of the night, Sam was exhausted and bruised, but in a state of utter bliss. The sheets on Kurt’s bed were tousled and soaked with sweat. The mattress was askew, and the headboard had broken off the bed frame. When Kurt got up and left the room, Sam fell asleep. He woke with a start to find Kurt looking down on him, dressed in his powerlifting suit and weight belt. “I’m going to lift,” said Kurt. He took a swig from an old fashioned glass milk bottle. He handed Sam another bottle. “I brought you something to drink,” he said. “What is it?” asked Sam. “It’s an herbal protein shake. I get it shipped in from my ranch. My foreman is descended from a long line of Cherokee medicine men, so I’m not sure what’s all in it, but there must be a ton of protein and anti inflammatory herbs, because the stuff works like a charm. Drink it down, it’ll help cure what ails you,” chuckled Kurt. The liquid looked creamy, with a slight green tint. Sam took a sip. “Not bad. Kinda like kefir, only saltier.” Sam drank more. “Finish it up, then get some sleep. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.“ Sam watched Kurt swagger out of the room, his huge glutes rolling as he walked. How the hell did he have the energy to go lift after the night they’d had, Sam wondered. He finished up the thick herbal shake, then laid back and went to sleep. He fell into a deep sleep, melded with dreams of growing bigger and stronger. Swelling with mass. Gaining the strength of Superman. Becoming unstoppable. Godlike. “Whoa,” said Sam as he woke up and realized that four hours had passed. He felt amazing. Energized and rested. And hard. He sat up and remembered that he had a workout session with his trainer in less than an hour, so he got dressed. He’d shower after his workout, he decided, because he was so charged up to lift. Kurt still wasn’t back, so Sam texted him. “Headed out. ttyl.” Kurt answered back that his workout was running long. “I boxed up 6 bottles of the drink if you want them. They’re in the kitchen.” Hell yeah, he wanted them. Sam grabbed the box off the kitchen island, and took off. He rushed home and got his gym bag, then went to the gym. He changed into his workout gear in the locker room, then went to the front desk, where Omar, his trainer, was waiting. “Right on time,” said Omar. “You ready for this?” “More than ready,” said Sam, who was buzzing with adrenaline. Ten minutes into the session, Omar said, “You weren’t kidding about being ready. You sure seem to have your focus back.” “Yep,” said Sam, already feeling the pump building. “Hey, your bruise is gone,” said Omar, nodding at Sam’s arm. And so it was. Sam hadn’t even realized. All the fresh bruising from last night’s rampage were gone, too. Instead, there was a thick biceps vein running down his arm, a vein he’d never had show before. “Damn, bro, you’re looking jacked,” said Omar, as he also noticed the vein. “And we haven’t even done arms yet.” Sam grinned broadly. He couldn’t wait to hit arms, but they still had to get thru his back routine, and he was going to blast his lats and traps like never before. Forty-five minutes later, Sam was raging. He’d done set after set to failure, then had Omar help him rep out forced reps of each exercise. Then Sam stood up and looked in the mirror. He had on an oversized tee, but his shoulders spread out wider than he’d ever seen them. He pulled his tee off over his head and tossed it on a bench. His gym was upscale and a little uppity, so going shirtless was against the policy, but he wasn’t worried about any rule. He was Sam the Weatherman, and he had to see. His traps were rising up like bread loaves. “Fuck yeah,” he said. Then he put his fists on his waist and spread his back out. “Holy shit,” he said. Now he knew why bodybuilders called them ‘wings’. “Dude,” stammered Omar. “What the fuck…that’s the sickest pump I’ve ever seen.” Despite having just been training back, Sam’s pecs were pumped heavy. He turned sideways and flexed into a side chest pose. His chest rose like balloons. Even his nips were pumped. Omar staggered back up against an exercise machine. “Godammm, I’m a good trainer,” he said. Sam laughed. “Aw yeh you are. Now let’s do arms.” They did extra sets and reps for every exercise, then Sam had Omar add more arm exercises that he had never done, like hammer curls, reverse curls, one-arm preacher curls. When they finished, Sam’s arms were throbbing. His forearm veins had veins. When Sam flexed, his arms bunched up into perfect cannon ball shaped mounds. “I knew you had good genetics for this, man, but this is other-world shit. I’ve never seen your body respond like this.” Sam knew that Omar had four kids with three different women, but he was definitely chubbing up to Sam’s muscles. “Lemme take some pictures,” Omar said, and he pulled out his phone and eagerly snapped shots of Sam in different poses. “Dude,” Omar said, “look at your back.” Sam looked at his back pic on the phone and said, “I didn’t know the back had that many muscles.” “Yours does,” said Omar. “Mind if I post some of these on my Instagram account? I’ll get a shit ton of new clients.” “Knock yourself out. But does that mean I get a discount on my sessions?” Omar’s training rates were not cheap. “Dude, I’ll train you for free from now on if you keep this shit up. And I am definitely entering you into that bodybuilding contest I told you about.” Sam laughed. “We’ll see,” he said as he put on his shirt. “But now I’ve got somewhere to go.” They shook hands, and Sam went out to his car. He texted Kurt. “U home?” Kurt answered back yes, and Sam told him he was coming over to show him something. Kurt said great, and said he’d make them something to eat before they went into work. Sam said great, and he took off for Kurt’s. His arms were so freakishly pumped that he could barely steer. He smiled devilishly as he gripped down on the steering wheel and made his rippling bands of veiny forearm muscle clench like steel, and his pecs press together like grinding boulders. Kurt was in for quite a show.

In the beginning, Sam thought that Kurt’s massive physique would be a turn-off to the viewers. That turned out not to be accurate. The ratings were skyrocketing. Everyone either wanted to be like Kurt, or be with Kurt. Sam wanted to be both, and it was driving him crazy. He could barely think of anything but the brawny sportscaster. At work, away from work, everything made him think about Kurt. Where was he now, what would he be doing, what does his place look like, what does the inside of his car smell like? He was obsessing, to the point that he was having wet dreams about him. Sam hadn’t had wet dreams since he was a teen. Now he had one almost every night. A recurring one where Kurt would wrap his huge bar bending arms around him and squeeze him like a tube of toothpaste while whispering into his ear about his strength and power. Sam would wake up gasping for air, his sheets a sticky mess again. One day at work, while Sam was on air doing the weather forecast, Kurt came striding into the camera shot. His black polo fit him like a scuba suit. He looked like a jacked up, musclebound Navy Seal. “So, Sam,” he said, patting Sam on his shoulder with his beefy hand. Sam almost lurched forward. When Sam looked up at the monitor, he realized how much Kurt dwarfed him in the shot. “I was wondering what the weather’s like for the Bills,” said Kurt, raising his muscular arm and pointing to western New York. “I heard they got 22 inches of snow.” Then he flexed his arm. The peak rose up right next to Sam’s head. “Not as much as this 23 incher, but close.” The two co-anchors, Carol and Gary, chuckled with giddy glee. “Talk about a snow drift!” cracked Gary. “I wouldn’t want to shovel that much snow,” said Carol, “but I’d sure ski down it!” More chuckles, some more nervous than others, especially from the crew, who had never seen the big man flex before. Sam played along, reaching over and slapping Kurt’s boulder of an arm. “You’re right, Carol. I don’t think even Buffalo could handle all that!” “Twenty-three inches, Sammy,” Kurt muttered in an aside to the weatherman. Then the big bruiser squeezed his arm harder, and Sam felt a knot of muscle rise up even higher on the big peak. Sam ran his thumb up the side of the 23” arm. He pictured Kurt bending the exercise bar like a toy. Don’t bone up on live TV, Sam pled to himself. Kurt winked at him, then turned and walked off the set. Sam was fuming inside, but hornier for Kurt than ever, as he watched the big powerlifter’s backside sauntering away. The cocky bastard had the hottest, manliest ass Sam had ever seen. Sam stuttered his way thru the rest of the forecast, then into a commercial break. Sam heard one of the crew members say to another, “That guy looks bigger every time I see him. He’s a fucking beast.” One night later that week, Sam woke up sweating and gasping for breath. He was in a downward dog pose on the bed, face buried into his pillow. He’d been dreaming of having his face deep into Kurt’s big burly squat butt, smelling the deep musk of power ass, while Kurt boasted about how many 1000 pound squats he could do with that power ass. Sam hadn’t messed up his sheets when he awoke, but he kept his face in the pillow and breathed in heartily as he finished himself off. It didn’t take long, because Sam had made his pillowcase out of one of Kurt’s unwashed polo shirts that he had pilfered out of the big sportscaster’s office hamper. The fabric was ripe with Kurt’s masculine scent. Sam, still holding himself in the yoga pose with one arm, shot so hard that he knocked himself off balance and toppled off the bed onto the floor. The next day, the arm Sam had landed on when he fell out of bed was swollen and bruised. He decided to take a couple of days off work. He needed some time to get his act together anyway. He’d been losing weight and his focus. Even his trainer has mentioned it. He needed some time away from Kurt. He promised himself not to watch the news, but at 6:20, he can’t stand it, and he turned on the TV to see the sports. He needed his Kurt fix. And there he was, the big musclehead, bulging out of his polo, interviewing an NFL player. The pro athlete looked like Kurt’s smaller, weaker brother. Sam’s dick twitched, and he started to touch himself, but then stopped. He turned off the TV. His arm hurt too much to go workout, so he got on his treadmill. He set it for 45 minutes, hoping to take his mind off Kurt. He spent the next 45 minutes thinking about Kurt. The next morning, Sam swore off TV for the day. He did, however, check social media, only to find that there was a video going viral title “Powerlifting Sportscaster Deadlifts Tesla”. It can’t be, thought Sam, as he clicked on the video. It started out in the parking lot of a strip mall. A woman’s Tesla had gotten stuck in a big pile of a plowed up snow bank. As she got out of the car and looked at it helplessly, the camera panned over to a gym that’s in the strip mall. A couple of lifters came out of the gym to see what was going on. One of them stood out from the others. He was huge, and wore a red powerlifting suit that made him look even bigger, his massive shoulders jutting out from the straps. A thick weight belt was cinched around his waist. He made his way over to the car. Sam recognized him right away. That walk. That bull neck. That ass. That cockiness. What Sam had never seen before was the size of Kurt’s legs. Two oversized columns of power. As he sauntered over to the woman’s car, his massive, hairy thighs rubbed against each other. Heavy, thick quad muscles bulged out over his knees. The other lifters held back, as Kurt got to the back of the car and squatted down. He grabbed the car under the bumper, then stood up. The icy pile crunched as the car tires rose up. Kurt pulled back, making his thick, broad muscles mound and harden. His glutes showed striations and bulges thru his tight lifting suit. He towed the car out of the frozen drift, and squatted it back to the ground. The woman came over to him and thanked him profusely, shaking his big right hand with both her petite ones. His arm muscles rippled, and the giddy woman ran one hand up to his biceps. Kurt grinned and flexed his arm. The woman almost swooned as his melon-sized arm swelled. When he noticed the person recording them, he grinned even wider, the big ham that he was, and flexed into a most muscular pose. The video zoomed in on him. His huge body filled the screen. Thick veins popped out of his massive delts, arms and neck. A crowd was forming, most of them with their phones out, recording him, as the other lifters hooted and hollered, egging Kurt on. Kurt laughed heartily, and helped the woman into her car. Then he turned his huge back to the phone cams and spread out his lats, spreading them wider and wider, until a loud rip tore down the back of his lifting suit, from his thick traps down to his weight belt, exposing even more of his powerful back muscles. He tore the ripped suit off his torso and turned into the camera. The video frame was filled with Kurt’s massive hairy pecs. His thick chest hair was wet with sweat, and curling into tight, Herculean ringlets. He bounced his pecs up and down for the video closeup. In the background, the crowd was going wild. And then the video ended. Sam watched the video in a daze. He watched it in a loop. He edged as he watched it over and over. He held out as long as he could, but finally those tree trunk legs got him. Those mighty, mighty legs. He had to let it fly in homage.

Fred had never worried much about getting older. Then one day, his daughter posted some pictures on Facebook from the party she had thrown for him on his 75th birthday. He looked stooped over and frail, with a fairly pronounced paunch. When did I turn into a old grandpa, he wondered to himself. He still had a good head of hair, now silvery-white, but the rest of him was sagging. His former 6’4” stature looked like it had lost a good 5 inches. He decided to do something about it. He didn’t want to join a gym looking like did, so he started doing push-ups at home everyday. At first it was a struggle just to get down on the floor then get back up again. But he stuck with it, and within a few weeks, he was doing ten push-ups, a couple of times a day. He liked how it made him feel, so he got an old chin-up bar out of the garage. His sons had used it decades ago when they played football. He attached it to a doorway in the house. At first he had to use a low stool to assist him in getting any pull-ups at all, but after time, he was able to do some on his own. He progressed faster than he thought he would, and soon, he would pump out ten reps every time he walked past the doorway. Then he would hang from the bar, stretching out his vertebrae. It wasn’t long before he noticed changes in his body. Things were tightening up, he could feel it. Even better, he could see it in the mirror. He’d never been a muscle guy but he’d stayed fit by running, but after his divorce years ago, he’d given that up. He used to take daily walks with his dog, but after the dog died, he stopped that too. He’d definitely let himself go. Now he was feeling a fire inside. He went out and bought an exercise bike, and started doing 45 minutes of cardio a day. His paunch shrank. His pant size went from a 38 to 34. While he rode the bike, he watched YouTube videos on fitness, exercises, and supplements. He ordered a set of parallel bars, and started doing bodyweight dips. They made his chest swell out and his nipples jut. He started doing squats every morning. First ten. Then 20. Almost every day, he added ten more, until he was up to 100. He did lunges around the house, and as his legs got stronger, he did them in the yard, which improved his balance and made his ass plump up. The waistband of his 34 pants grew looser, but the backside got tighter. His legs got veiny. And bigger. His forearms were getting veiny and bigger, too, but he wanted more. So he went to a fitness store and bought some grip training equipment. He trained his forearms for half hour a day, and as they grew bigger and veinier, he got into flexing them for twenty minutes after training them, bloating them so full, he could barely move his hands. He started eating spinach, so his forearms would grow like Popeye’s. Spinach salads. Spinach smoothies. Spinach omelets. It sure seemed to work. His forearms grew, but so did his upper arms. And his shoulders. And his back. It motivated him to never skip a day or cut a workout short. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing in the mirror. Muscles. Sinewy muscles. Ropey and hard. His abs were starting to show. One morning, he flexed his arms, and almost jumped back in surprise. He knew what he had. He had Peaks. He had read the name for them online. Biceps peaks. Not huge, not yet anyway, but they were defined, and had a split running across the top, like a mountain ridge. His forearm swell was equally impressive. Gnarly and veiny. Now, even driving his car, his arms felt strong, not frail and shaky like they were before. When he pressed his palms into the steering wheel, his chest puffed out, stretching his shirt tight. He could feel his strength surge. His spine had straightened out, bringing back some of his height. When he walked thru a store, people looked at him differently. He carried himself differently. It fed his desire for more. He ordered an abdominal muscle stimulator, which he didn’t expect to work, but he was wrong. It almost worked too well. Sometimes, when he took it off, his abs would cramp up so hard that he would double over in pain. After some deep breaths, he could stand up and see his abs still twitching. After two weeks of twice a day sessions, he had a six pack without even flexing. He had the taper of a National level gymnast. He checked himself out in the mirror a lot. He liked everything he saw. Except his neck. He wanted it to be thicker and tighter. He bought a neck harness that had a chain attached, and he dug out his sons’ old weight set and used the plates from it to do weighted neck lifts and bridges. Every day. Fuck worrying about overtraining, he figured. At 75, what did he have to lose. His neck responded as fast as his other body parts, and before he knew it, he had the neck and traps of an Olympic wrestler. He bought wide-necked compression tees to show them off better. The tees also highlighted his broad shoulders and extreme taper. His abs showed thru the skin tight fabric. He bought 32” waist jeans, and would go to Home Depot just to see the reaction from contractors and landscapers. He knew his face still showed his age, but that made him enjoy the looks even more. Where was this flush of energy and vitality coming from? He didn’t know, and didn’t care. It felt amazing. His balls must be churning out more test than when he was in his twenties, because he woke up with raging morning wood every day. His body odor was musky and virile. He was horny all the time, and when he jerked off, his ejaculate didn’t just dribble out like before. It shot clear across the room. He felt like he had hit puberty again. His bodyweight had gone from a saggy 155 to a 225lb Adonis retiree. And he was just getting started.

The two college friends pulled up in front of Fred’s house. “You ready for this, Luke?” “You know I am, Bry. If we can get half as jacked up as that huge ole fucker, I’d be stoked.” They got out of the car. “You go first,” Luke said. Bry laughed. “Pussy.” They walked up the sidewalk together, but before they got to the front door, Fred came around the side of the house. He had on a white tank top and a pair of blue workout shorts. “Geezus,” muttered Bry. Both young men had forgotten just how huge Fred was in person. His delts were the size of basketballs. His thick white goatee and shaved head made him look even more intimidating. “I see you boys found the place. I was doing my workout in the yard. You want to come back and see what you’re made of?” “Sure,” answered Luke uncertainly. Even though they’d been jocks their whole lives, Fred was a different kind of beast. Luke stared in awe at the thickness of the man’s back muscles. The way his big lats spread out of his tank, over three feet across. His huge, dense ass muscles. His massive quads. And calves the size of footballs. He was in his bare feet, and Luke guessed his shoe size must be around 16. Luke wondered what it would be like to be pinned to the ground by one of those big meaty feet, with the massive old man flexing over him. As they got to the backyard, Fred turned to them and said, “I’ve been at it for about 40 minutes already. Do I look pumped?” He hit a few poses. He was massively pumped. Muscle exploded out all over him. He weighed more than Luke and Bry combined, and it showed. His cock was turgescent in his shorts, and was proportional to his body size. When he finished flexing, he said, “Let’s get started. The lady next door is probably going to be watching from her window, so why don’t you guys strip off your shirts, give her a show.” The guys took their shirts off obediently. They were both lean and well muscled, broad shouldered and wasp waisted jocks, weighing around 160 each. After 15 minutes of warming up, their taut, youthful skin glistened in the sunshine. Fred could tell that bodyweight lunges, pull-ups, and other exercises weren’t going to wear these guys down very fast. He said, “You want to make your workout a little more challenging?” “Sure,” they answered. Fred went to his garage and came out with two weighted vests. When he handed them to the guys, they almost fell over. “How much do these weigh?” asked Luke. “Sixty pounds each,” said Fred. “You game?” Both guys were game. Fred’s yard went back 150 feet. He made the guys go knee-to-grass with every lunge. By the third turn, both guys were a little green around the gills. Fred decided to give them a break. He crouched down in front of them and said, “Hop on, boys, I’ll take you for a ride.” Luke and Bry happily got onto Fred’s massive back, clinging to his thick neck like baby lemurs. Fred stood up, and then, with 320lbs of jock and another 120lbs in weighted vests, started doing lunges down the length of his yard. With 440lbs on his back, he lunged his his way down and back four times. Slow, deep lunges. His kneecaps had grass stains. His thighs swelled. The guys’ groins pressed against the big man’s lower back, and they could feel the bulging ropey muscles tensing up hard as steel cables. Fred stopped and signaled for them to drop down. They let go and dropped to the ground behind him. Fred turned around, and the two college boys gasped at the sight of the mega pumped quads of the huge old man. He towered over them like the Colossus of Rhodes. Bry said, “Master.” Then he bowed down and kissed Fred’s foot. Luke reached out and put a hand on Fred’s blazing hot thigh meat. The big man looked down at his little acolytes. He felt a hunger growing inside him. A need for them to worship him even deeper. He grabbed them by their vests and lifted them off the ground. The two handsome college jocks looked at him with awe, as their feet dangled in midair. He pressed them overhead and used them for reps until his giant delts burned with power. Then he sat them gently down on the ground. “Let’s get these thing off you,” he said, pulling at the Velcro straps of the vests. They slipped them off and let them plop to the ground. Fred stripped off his tank top. He looked at them, both so fresh and vital. He felt like a massively built vampire, eyeing his prey. They looked at him like he was a god, his muscles five times more densely packed than theirs and vastly stronger. “Let’s go inside,” the big man said. The two jocks obeyed, turning and walking to the back door. He watched their perfectly shaped little asses roll as they walked. He followed them inside, then he shut the door and latched it. They all stripped down naked. Fred posed as the two dudes felt him up. He knelt down and flexed his biceps. The jocks groaned at the size of them, and then Fred leaned into them and rubbed his big peaks on their ball sacs. The two guys pushed their balls against the rock hard arms with all their weight. They both had goosebumps. So much power, on their balls.Fred realized that his arms were bigger than their quads. It turned him on. He pushed his arm deeper between Luke’s legs, until his peak was against Luke’s ass. Then he stood up, lifting the jock with him. Fred put his big calloused hand on the small of Luke’s back. Luke’s skin was smoother than satin. Fred went down on him, and the hot jock almost passed out. He had his hands on Fred’s traps, and he couldn’t believe the size of the guy going down on him. Bry got between Luke’s dangling legs, and went down on Fred. He barely got his mouth around the big man’s cock, but was rewarded with pulse after pulse of precum. Luke was feeding Fred his pre, too, and Bry had a long rope of his own trailing down to the hardwood floor. Fred’s big peak was pressing into Luke’s ass, applying tremendous pressure on Luke’s prostate. The young jock had never felt such pleasure. He wanted to hold back, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t busted one out in a couple of days, so he had plenty to give. And Fred took it all, sucking every drop of jock protein he could get. Then he put Luke down, and lifted Bry off his dick and up to his mouth. He kissed the young dude deeply. Bry kissed him back. Then Fred lifted him up by his armpits, and went down on him. Luke got on his knees and started sucking Fred’s big balls. Fred’s precum continued to flow heavily, and ran down Luke’s back. Bry didn’t last long either. He shot his spunk down the huge old bodybuilder’s throat. Fred took every drop, then put Bry down. He flexed his arms and admired them. He was raging and pumped. He led the pair into his bedroom, where he ravaged them for the next hour. He used both their asses for his needs, several times each, while the other one worshipped his body. He tossed them around way harder than he had gone at Lois. He could have gone another hour, his stamina was unbelievable, but both of the jocks were done in, he could tell. He told them to rest up while he went to shower. As he soaped himself up, he couldn’t believe his big cock had fit into their tight asses, but it had. They weren’t gonna walk right for awhile, but it had fit. He was still hard, and he stroked himself while he rinsed off. His dick had gotten bigger, growing with the rest of him, and was insatiable. What was happening to him, he wondered. But then he shot a load all over the shower, and decided not to worry about it. He got dried off and dressed. He went to tell the guys to shower off, but they were already dressed. As they got ready to leave, Bry told him that they were a little worried about explaining to their girlfriends where all their bruises came from. “What bruises?” Fred asked. The guys lifted their shirts and showed him. “Jesus, did I do that? You look like you were gored by a bull.” “We kinda were,” said Luke. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.” He bounced his massive pecs. “Tell you what, next time you come over, bring the ladies with you, I’ll show them how it happened.” Bry thought about his girlfriend’s Instagram account. He had seen how she followed a ton of dudes who were jacked up beasts. And Luke was pretty sure his girlfriend was into him for his big cock, and he was about half as big and thick as Fred. They both shuddered at the thought of their girls getting a look at Fred’s massiveness. No way were they bringing them over here. Besides, he was their little secret. At least for now.

Fred continued to workout and grow. When he hit 285lbs, he felt like he was ready to join a real gym. He went to a local hardcore place that he had driven by for years. When he went up to the front counter, the young guy working behind it was on his phone, and barely looked up. When Fred told him he wanted to join, the guy slid him a clipboard with a membership form. Then he turned away, still talking. Fred filled out the form and waited patiently for the guy to come back. When he did, Fred noticed his name tag, which said Kent. He was good looking in the way most 20-something jocks are. Sturdy and over confident. He slid the clipboard across the counter and looked it over absently. He stopped when he saw Fred’s age. “Dude. Did you check with your doctor before coming here?” Then he looked up. Fred had gotten an oversized sweatshirt from a Big and Tall store, but it was still hard to miss that he was a large man. Still, Kent said, “You sure you can handle a gym like this?” Fred had a good six inches on him, and smiled down at him. Only his face hinted at his advanced age. “I tell you what, junior. Let’s arm wrestle for my first month membership fee.” Kent smirked. “Yeah? What do I get when I win, old timer?” “I won’t steal your girlfriend from you,” said Fred. Then he pulled off his sweatshirt. Underneath, he had on his sleeveless compression shirt. Sweat stains outlined his pec plates and abs. “Jesus,” said Kent. “No, but close,” said Fred. He put his elbow onto the counter, and flexed his hand into a fist a few times. His veiny, Popeye-sized forearm writhed with muscle. Some gym members were now looking their way. “You game, boy?” asked Fred. He had a good 60lbs on the younger man. Kent looked around and saw people watching expectantly. He put his elbow on the counter hesitantly. They locked hands. Kent’s hand looked like a miniature version of Fred’s. So did his arm. He gulped as he felt the strength of older man’s grip. “Go,” ordered Fred. And Kent went. He pushed as hard as he could, but he wasn’t budging Fred’s arm. After about 15 seconds, Fred said, “Tell me when you want to start.” Kent got a panicked look on his face and strained harder. Suddenly, Fred’s arm started to go down. Kent got his cocky jock look back on his face. He lowered Fred’s arm more. “Ahh yeah,” crowed Kent, his face red with exertion. He had Fred’s hand an inch from the countertop when his progress stopped. Fred’s biceps muscle balled up like a gnarly boulder, and he began to push Kent’s hand upward. Kent struggled and squirmed, trying to stop the progression. He leaned his shoulder into it, fruitlessly. The old man had him, and everyone watching knew it. Fred didn’t draw out the inevitable. He slammed Kent’s hand down with a thump. Before they broke off, Fred shook the younger man’s hand. “Double or nothing?” he asked. There was a vein the size of a garter snake running down his swole upper arm. It branched off down thru his forearm. “Jesus, no,” groaned Kent, rubbing his defeated arm as he turned and sulked away. Fred had to chuckle. He walked farther into the gym and looked around.. He assumed that Kent was supposed to show him around, but that seemed unlikely to happen. Fred saw the other lifters looking at him with a mix of emotions, like awe and reverence, and curiosity. They moved out of the way for him. He had the feeling that there was a new, alpha male at the gym, and it was him. He figured out his way around the weight room quickly. As he got into workout mode, he gave off a vibe that said ‘don’t bother me’. No one did, but he could tell they wanted to. He could also tell that joining the gym was a good move. His body was responding to the weights at a whole different level than his home workouts. He felt tighter and fuller, and looked it, too. He was also hornier. No wonder bodybuilders swagger, he thought to himself as he walked out to his car two hours later. It was almost impossible not to. When he got home, and got out of his car, Lois came out of her house. Had she been watching for him? No fucking doubt, he figured. “Hi, Fred,” she said, waving, all super friendly and dolled up. “Would you like to come over for a cocktail?” Five years she had lived next to him, and never once an invite for drinks. But what the hell. This could be interesting. Inside her house, he had two shots of tequila while she had some wine. The more wine she had, the more she talked. Fred stopped her and said, “I’m not good at small talk.” “What are you good at then?” she asked nervously. “I’m good at fucking. I love to fuck.” He stood up and slowly pulled off his sweatshirt. He’d left his sweaty workout shirt in his car, so his upper body was now bare. He was huge, especially next to her. He stepped out of his shorts. He had the body of an advanced heavyweight bodybuilder, and he was insanely pumped up. He was vastly more developed than anyone she’d ever seen. “Oh my god. Yes, please.” she exclaimed. “Sure you can handle it?” He flexed his massive chest, and adjusted himself in his briefs. “Please let me. Please let me try.” For the next hour, he had his way with her, using every orifice to satisfy his needs. He used her as his cardio session. He had to remember to hold back from going full bore on her, and even so she passed out a couple of times, but begged for more every time she came to. She was a mortal, submitting to her god. He rode her like she was an amusement park ride, rolling her around her bed in every possible position. He couldn’t believe how long he was able to hold out. Then, when he had her straddled sideways across the bed, he caught his reflection in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door. He saw the the size of his neck. His huge mounds of trap meat, snaked with veins. His delts, bigger than his head and glistening with sweat. He was a magnificent specimen of pure power. He blasted to his own image. He could have done it all over again, but he wasn’t sure that she would survive. He left her to recuperate, and went home to shower. Four mass building protein shakes later, he went to bed.

The doorframe pull-up bar and the dip bars Fred got when he first started working out had become too flimsy for his more intense workouts. He bought a much sturdier workout station, and set it up in his backyard. He loved the wider grip pull-ups he could do with it. He could really feel it work his broadening lats. He liked being outside too, feeling the sun’s heat on his powerful muscles. Even in the rain, he was out there. He never missed a workout. Because of that, he was putting on 3 to 5 pounds of muscle a week. His pull-up strength grew rapidly, and soon he was trying one-arm pulls. They were challenging at first, but before long he was doing multiple reps and sets. Then he would do one arm bodyweight hangs. His hand strength had advanced to the point that he could hang from the bar for many minutes using just two fingers. Searing pain would scorch thru his forearms, but he suffered the pain so he could feel the crazy pump afterwards. And his pumps were crazier than ever, since he started using nitric oxide supplements. He’d studied up on them, and started taking citrulline and pine bark extract. He ordered horny goat weed from Germany, where they used three times the active ingredient than you could get in the States. He got a prescription from his doctor for Cialis, which he read did more than just dilate the vessels in your dick, but also every vein in your body. For him, this proved to be accurate. He took all the supps about 30 minutes before his workouts, and his pumps were transformative. He could see his veins thru his tight shirts. He felt like a god. One day, when he was about halfway thru his yard workout, his neighbor pulled into her driveway. When she got out of her car, Fred yelled over, “Hey Lois.” Lois was a 40-something divorcée with big fake tits, a lot of makeup and hair. In his day, she would have been called a floozy. She was not an unfriendly neighbor, but Fred always felt like he was half invisible to her. He’d seen some of the guys she’d brought home with her. All muscleheads. As a 75-year-old retired fart, he was off her radar. Now, things were different. She was on her phone as she walked to her house, but did a distracted look and wave over towards him. It took a few seconds, but then she took a second look. She stopped in her high heels and turned. She lowered her phone to her side, forgotten. “Fred? Is that…you?” “Sure is,” he answered, smirking and rearing back his big shoulders. “You look…so different.” She walked over in his direction. He took a few steps towards her, so she could get a better look. The sleeveless compression shirt he was wearing was soaked thru with sweat. His abs and pecs were outlined perfectly. His arm veins pulsed as they snaked down from his broad shoulders. He looked like he’d just won a wet tee shirt contest at Muscle Beach. “I…you…I didn’t even know you worked out,” she stammered as she ogled him up and down. His bar hangs had stretched his spine out so that he was back to his youthful 6’4” height. He towered over her. He looked down at her and watched her breasts heave as her breathing grew rapid. “I do now. In fact, I’ve got to finish up. I’ll see you later.” He turned and walked away, knowing she was staring at him like a cat in heat. He felt so fucking Alpha. He started working out again, harder than ever, and Lois went inside her house. A few minutes later, he noticed her peeking out at him from her second floor bedroom window. He chuckled to himself, his ego inflating. He heard a buzzing sound, and realized that she was using a vibrator on herself. He decided to give her a show. He peeled his shirt off, and twisted it in his hands, wringing the sweat out of it like it was a wet dishrag. His Popeye-sized forearms bulged with power. He made his chest twitch. He heard her moaning. He grabbed the pull-up bar and started doing muscle-ups, and then held himself in the top position, with his arms supporting his whole upper body above the bar. His deltoids swelled up, big and rounded. His abs flexed tight. His crotch area rubbed against the bar, and he grunted loudly. He looked up at her and winked. Her breath steamed up the window, and she wiped it away with the curtain. She’d never experienced such lust. Fred shifted his bodyweight, and lifted his left arm off the bar, supporting himself with just his right arm. Then he flexed his left arm so she could see what a real peak looked like. He heard her moaning ‘oh god, oh god’ over and over. He jumped down from the bar and flexed his veiny, Cialis-pumped arms up at her. He knew she was orgasming. Her face showed it. He flexed his arms harder, then kissed each peak. He picked up his shirt and wiped his torso off with it, then wiped off the back of his big neck. Lois collapsed to the floor, disappearing behind the window. She must have grabbed the curtains on her way down, because Fred saw the curtain rod fall. He chuckled. Horny little floozy. He went back to his house and took a shower, admiring himself with his own hands. He noticed that his dick had thickened so much that he couldn’t fit his hand around it. When he got out of the shower, he weighed himself. 265lbs, buck naked. Maybe he’d have to take Lois for the ride of her lifetime.

Chapter Fourteen : A Hero in his own right "Please, please tell me that I am not dreaming" moaned Danny as he placed his hands on He-Man's protruding chest "Okay then" chuckled He-Man, "I shall not tell you. This is real and if John wouldn't mind?" "I consented a long time ago" replied John and with that wrapped his arms around both He-Man and Danny. As Danny peered around He-Man's arms, raised in the air holding his sword, and saw John he moaned "Can I say, I know that in the future we Yanks and you Limey's don't get on, but thank you, thank you for letting me absorb your strength and help my friend escape his bondage!" John smiled in return and said "You wished to become stronger, I don't want to be as strong as I am now, it makes perfect sense" and with that nodded to He-Man saying "I am ready when you are, sir!" "And you Danny?" "I was born ready" smiled Danny adding "Thanks for lettting me feel your pulse as well. It's a kink of mine" "Well, lets make some science of it then" came the chuckled reply, "John, when I say now, please count to fifteen in your mind and shout STOP after that, Danny, count how many times my heart beats. Ready? NOW!" For the next moment or so John counted silently as did Danny and when John declared "STOP", Danny gasped in amazement. "I...I must have miscounted. It only beat four times!" "That was no mistake, when resting as I am now, my heart beats just 16 times in a minute, but..." and with that motioned to his sword which caused Danny to moan, "Then do it, do it He-Man, transfer John's strength into me, send the power into us all and let me revel in the power of your heart!" Taking a deep breath, He-Man smiled and made his declaration As the power surged into all three men, Danny screamed in estacy. This was his fantasy coming true, listening to a man's heart pumping as raw, electrical power was flowing through them. As he squeezed He-Man's chest as hard as he could, he could feel the heart beating faster and faster and in all the power surging through him he tried to keep a narrative "Oh, by Grant, there must be kilowatts, no, megawatts, no, gigawatts, no, terawatts of power surging through us. Oooooohhhh, it feels magnificent. He-Man's heart is beating twice, no, three times, no five times, no ten times, no tweny times as fast as it was. I...I can feel John's strength transferring into me....Yeah....oh yeah, that's it John, feed me your strength, your power, your muscularity, your masulinity...oh, man,...one billion horsepower at least coursing through me, He-Man, John all at the same time...I...oh man....I...I...I....I can FEEL IT!" As Danny screamed He-Man grunted "Are you getting there Danny, John?" As both men grunted back, He-Man smiled and declared "Ready for the climax?" and with that roared his declaration again All three men screamed in estacy and as they all collapsed to the ground, they all came within seconds of each other. A moment later, the door to the dungeon opened and as the Doctor peeked around the door, his eyes closed he asked "Have you finished yet? We need all the power we can get?". His answer came in the form of three grunts and as the Doctor gingerly opened an eye, he remarked, "Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, was it?" As three seemingly identical versions of He-Man all stood up, each one only identified by the different symbol on their breastplate, the one with the cross chuckled "Indeed not" but as he grabbed hold of the other two, one with a lion on his breastplate and the other with an eagle he said "Call us the brothers of Eternia?"

Chapter Nine : Getting out of a pickle "That is indeed me" smiled the gentleman, nodding his head and then added "So, Phileas, found yourself in jail again, eh?" Lord Fogg nodded and explained to the party "The last time I was in jail, it was on the moon!" "Therefore it only seems fair that I use the same method to let you out!" chuckled the Doctor and with that pulled a long silver tube from his pocket, aimed it at the lock and said "Gentlemen, you may want to shield your eyes" and as the party did so, the Doctor pressed a button and the lock seemed to explode and as the door swung open the Doctor noted "Sonic and entering, note, not breaking and entering" As Lord Fogg led the party out of the cell, the Doctor took Herbert to one side and said "Nice reworking of the trip you took with me. I am so glad that you didn't try and explain how we collided with a Bandril missle and yet survived, I am still a little unsure about how I did it myself" and as he chuckled he noted that Herbert was looking a tad upset and so asked "Gentlemen, have you upset my friend here?", however when he got the answer his expression changed. "If there is one thing I hate" he said, tapping his foot on the floor, "it's people who abuse time travel. Some of us have earned these little priviledges!" and with that turned to Holmes and said "Ah, just the person I was looking for, tell me, do you have a suspect, do you have a date, time and location for the crime and has it happened yet?" "Professor Moriarty" came the reply, "no earlier than three weeks ago, in Powder Creek, Missouri and no less than a day ago in Savile Row, London" "Three weeks ago?" asked the Doctor, scratching his head and with that waved his device around adding "Then why am I detecting traces of 17th century DNA then?" then he suddenly looked up and gasped "How many people were kidnapped?" "Four" replied Danny, "my town's doctor, this man's manservant, and two men of such power and strength I..." "Oh no" exclaimed the Doctor, "Don't tell me he used your time machine, Herbert, to kidnap the Ultimate Musketeer and the Ultimate Titan as well?" As Herbert nodded sadly, the Doctor's expression changed into a frown then with a determined "Right, we'll show him what happened when you use time travel for the wrong reasons" and started to rattle off a series of instructions almost at breakneck speed. "Herbert, take Watson and the sheriff to these times" and with that handed him a sheet of paper, "along with this" and handed him a parchment, "and bring them here" As Herbert examined the list he gulped "All of them?" to which the Doctor nodded, then using his device sonicked another cell door that swung open to reveal Herbert's machine. As Watson and Danny clambered onto the chairs, the Doctor reminded Herbert "to bring them back one at a time, one minute after the last one" to which Herbert nodded his understanding and within a moment the machine had vanished, then turning to Holmes and Lord Fogg said "Gentlemen, I have sent them on a journey to find the most powerful men this country has to offer. We, however, are going to cast the net a little wider!" and with that entered the blue box, but not before popping his head out and saying "Lord Fogg, could you prepare Mr. Holmes?" and then popped back in. "Sir" said Lord Fogg, "there is something very important you should know about the Doctor's machine. It is..." but Holmes refused to listen to the rest of the sentence and strode through the doors and stopped dead in his tracks. As Lord Fogg entered, he conculded, "...bigger on the inside than it is on the outside" to which the Doctor added "and can travel to any point in the universe at any point in history" and with that slammed down a lever and within a moment, the blue box had disappeared.

I’m looking forward to seeing how you introduce him to yet more growth. Thanks for all the work you put into these stories.

CHAPTER NINE: A SIMPLE MATH LESSON Later that evening we geared up for our Thursday workout and headed left for the gym. We arrived before Ted so we unloaded our stuff and both jumped on an excise bike to warm up. A few minutes later Ted strolled over and greeted us. “Hey guys! Chad, my big friend. Are you feeling better today?” “Oh yeah, Teddy. I'm feeling MUCH better now,” my father grinned deviously at Ted. “After missing my workout yesterday I'm sensing a BIG workout today.” Then Pops stopped peddling and slowly dismounted the stationary bike, swinging one big leg over the apparatus and stood in front of Ted with a smirk on his manly face. Ted immediately noticed something off. It took a few seconds before an epiphany hit him like a ton of bricks. “HOLY SHIT CHAD. YOU'RE EVEN BIGGER...I mean...TALLER! Like, WAY taller than you were, bro!” My father took another small step forward so that he was even closer to Ted, their two muscled chests nearly touching. He smugly grinned down at Ted and spoke, “Hmm.. ya' know Ted you may be right, because you are looking way smaller than me now!” I could see a look of subservience wash over Ted's face as he stared reverently up, way up into my fathers handsome mug. “In fact, little buddy, from up here I can see a bald spot forming on top of your head!” Ted began to panic. “What?!? No way!” He quickly reached up with his hands to his head to feel around the top of his dome. My father instantly bent over laughing. Ted quickly realized that he had been played. He slugged my father's meaty deltoid. It made a heavy smack and I realized Ted had actually put some anger in his throw. My father made no indication that it caused him any discomfort whatsoever. Try as he might to actually be mad at my father, Ted's playful nature appreciated the successful joke and he broke into a chuckle himself. “You big fuckin' mook! You about gave me a heart attack!” “Yeah, I knew that joke would work on a pretty-boy like you.” “Seriously though, are you really taller? How much?” Ted asked. “It's true, Ted. And it feels amazing. I grew about three inches in the last couple of days.” “Holy shit! Three inches?! You are, what, six foot six now? Shit, that's huge!” You are like the size of a world's strongest man competitor, only leaner. This is amazing Big Chad.” “Thanks, I can hardly believe it myself. It's only three more inches but it's crazy the new perspective I have. Everything seems so much smaller. I can see things I've never seen before. I fucking love it. I feel so huge and strong,” with that my father threw up a double biceps pose in front of Ted. Dad's giant drooping triceps muscle was right at Ted's eye level. “I hope I grow some more too.” Ted shook his head in awe. “I have to say I'm definitely jealous, dude. I mean, I'm a solid six foot even. I'm used to being a taller guy. But I feel short next to you. But, I am happy for you and I hope you keep growing too big man. In fact, let's get to our workout so you can add some muscle mass to fill out that taller bean-pole frame of yours.” Ted smirked. He couldn't resist throwing in a small jab just to get under my father's craw. He also knew it would inspire my father to lift harder than ever. “Haha, you jackass. I'll show you bean-pole, short stuff!” my father retorted. We then began our workout. My fathers strength had ticked up with his newly enlarged size, but I could tell he was a just bit awkward during every lift. He obviously had to get used to used his larger frame and longer limbs. He was a little bit like a gawky growing teenager, only far more powerful. He eventually found his footing on each lift and still had a good workout but I could tell he was hungry for more. The next morning, Friday, a few more issues began to crop up due to Dad's new size. My father was having trouble finding clothes that fit. While he had clothes that could contain his musculature, barely, length was now a problem. All of his custom ordered jeans were too short, exposing a couple of inches of his ankles and most of his shirts threatened to expose his rock hard, fuzzy abdominals. Not to mention that the sleeves of his long sleeve shirts were too short as well. Eventually he found a pair of blacks slacks and polo shirt shirt that were just big enough to pass muster. We decided that a trip to the mall was in order to keep my towering muscledad modestly clothed. So, the next morning, Saturday, we headed to the local outlet mall for some shopping. My father had found a pair of red basketball shorts and a sleeveless black muscle shirt to go along with some sandals that still fit. Of course, he really put the 'muscle' in muscle shirt. To top it off, he wore a white baseball hat. With his chiseled jawline and lightly stubbled cheeks (he had even shaved that morning) and that huge frame perfectly filling out his clothes, he looked like a super tall masculine gymrat god. While walking through the mall I discovered a new pastime, watching others' reactions to my father's presence. We were at an outside mall and the sun was out so I was wearing sunglasses which are perfect for some casual spying. More than a few times I saw jaws drop when they first glanced Big Chad. Women tried to hide their lusty gaze when they looked upon his face. Groups of teenage boys would elbow each other and mouth the word “huge”. Other bigger guys would try to puff themselves up as they walked by us, trying to avoid looking so outsized as they passed him. It didn't usually work very well. A couple of groups of teenage girls would giggle and squeal once they thought they were far enough past us that we couldn't hear them. By the smug grin plastered on his face I'm sure my father knew of the reactions he was causing but he just kept causally swaggering to his destination without a care in the world. First we hit up the big and tall store. In there Pops was like a kid in a candy store. “Awesome, they have tons a clothes that will fit me in here.” He loaded up on some undershirts, button downs and polos. During the process and with the help of a tall, overweight store worker, we were both learning about clothing sizes we had never heard about. Sizes such as X-tall, which are shirts that are longer in the torso and arms without all the extra width. Apparently, right now my father was an X-tall, XX-large. It was a lot of X's, but my hulking Dad was a BIG man. Pants were a bit more difficult. He was able to find some slacks and jeans that were big enough to squeeze over those massive quadriceps and glutes of his, but to do so he had to go up several waist sizes. The fat worker then directed him to the tailoring department where they took some measurements told him they would alter the pants to fit his waist. He would just need to come back in a couple of days to pick them up. Once he had picked out a big pile of clothes I made an observation. “You know, Pops, if you grow again some of these clothes won't fit.” “Hmm...good point, Son. Maybe I'll swap out a few of these for the next size up, something I can grow into if need be.” We then checked out. It was quite a hefty price tag, I'm glad my father had been promoted at work last year otherwise he never would've been able to afford all this. Next we hit up the shoe store. With his new height his feet had obviously grown as well. He tried on a few sneakers and finally found a size that fit. He big feet were now a size 15! “Ahhh that feels so much better, Son,” he stated as he walked around feeling out the new sneakers. My feet were so cramped the last couple of days at the gym. In the end he opted to buy a size 16, just in case his feet grew more as well. We then decided to get a protein shake from the smoothie hut nearby. We jumped in line behind a young mother pushing an infant in a stroller and her young son tagging along. He looked to be about five or six years old. As were stood there waiting we both heard small, high pitched voice from below. “Hey mister, are you a superhero? You gots big muskels (sic) like a superhero.” We both looked down and saw the young old boy looking up at my Dad. His mother also noticed. “Bradley, leave the nice man alone.” She then looked at my father and did a double take, obviously flustered by his ultra-masculine visage and physique. She was attractive, looked to be in her mid-to-upper 20's. My father winked at the young mother and I could see her bite her lip with a look of lust. “Ah it's no worries, miss. You're son's just curious. I remember when my little guy here was that age.” He mussed my short hair. “This is your son?” The young mother looked at me. “Wow, you look so young!” She continued to bite her lip. “Well thanks, ma'am. Yeah I guess you could say I got started with the parenthood thing a bit earlier than normal.” My Dad looked back down at little Bradley with a bright friendly smile. “No, little guy, I'm not a superhero. I just like to get lot's of exercise. You wanna see my muskels a little closer?” I chuckled as my playful father mimicked little Bradley's mispronunciation. “YEAH!” Bradley shouted enthusiastically. My father crouched down on one knee and brought his exposed right arm up and flexed the melon sized muscle right at Bradley's level. “WOOOOOAHHHHH!!” Bradley reached out his tiny hands and felt the huge sinewy biceps. “Look mommy! His muskels are WAY bigger than daddies!” My father grinned even more at this revelation. “Ye...ye...yes, dear. It...it's certainly impressive,” she stuttered. “You look like the Hulk, only you're not green!” Bradley continued. “Is that you're favorite superhero, Bradley?” Pops, asked. “YES! I like how strong he is! Captain America is my second favorite-est (sic). Do you think I could have big muskels like you when I grow up, mister?” “Sure you can little buddy! You gotta eat your vegetables, listen to you're mother and father, and get LOTS of exercise. Don't play too many video games, Ok? If you do that then you could even get bigger than me.” I saw a look of hopeful excitement sweep across Bradley's face as he imagined being a huge strong grownup even bigger than my father. I saw the mom continue to try to contain her lust as she realized not only was my father smokin' hot, but he was a genuinely good guy too. “Well, thank you sir, that's very good advice. Bradley let's let the nice man finish his shopping.” My father stood back up to his towering right. “You're very welcome, miss. We'll see you later little buddy!” My father gave Bradley a low five that made the kid's day. The young mom got their drinks and headed away. As we walked back to the car I couldn't help but continue to notice the stares my father was drawing. I asked him about it in the truck as he drove us home. “Hey Dad, did you happen to notice all the attention you were getting at the mall?” He chuckled and responded. “Yeah, Champ. I did. At first it felt a bit weird with everyone watching me but after a while I started to enjoy it” “Oh yeah? How so?” “Well...” he paused for a second trying to come up with the words to described his feelings. “This is going to sound arrogant, but I felt...powerful. I mean, think about it, Sport. It's Saturday in the summer so the mall was very busy. The whole time we were there I saw four, maybe five guys who were as tall or taller than me. And those other tall guys, they all were skinny as a rail.” He then flexed his right biceps, his fist nearly hitting the roof of the truck. He continued, “I probably have more muscle in this one bicep of mine than any of those walking bean-poles had in their entire bodies. Again, I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I realized I was most likely the biggest and strongest man in the entire shopping complex. Out of the hundreds of people there, no one was able to match my height combined with my muscle size.” I realized he was right. It was weird to fathom. I had no doubt that my Dad, my own flesh and blood, was the most powerful man in the shopping complex. Perhaps the city, maybe even the region or state! “Wow, Dad. I never realized that but you are right. I don't think it sounds arrogant, you are just realizing the truth about your development. I guess I would say just don't let it go to your head. I know you are a good guy, so I'm not too worried that will happen. The way you talked with that Bradley kid was really cool. I think you made his day!” “Hehe yeah that was fun. Cute kid. It felt great when he asked if I was a superhero. The way he was staring at me I FELT like a superhero.” “Well, he's right that you certainly have the body of a supehero.” “Haha. Thanks, Son.” Later that afternoon we picked up Ted and went to see Dr. Jock. Even Dr. J was shocked by my fathers recent height increase. After noting my father's new stats, he immediately interviewed Dad and I on the events of the past few days. He was certainly interested in the 'flu' my father endured. Finally he had come up with a theory. “Mr. Graves, I don't think you had a flu. You said you didn't recall a fever and you had no loss of appetite. In fact, you said you probably ate more than normal in the form of junk food and fast food. Mr. Graves, I believe what you experienced was an accelerated growth spurt. As we have previously discussed, you are experience the growth symptoms of puberty only at a faster rate due the extra hormones you are receiving. You said your body ached all over. This is a typical indication of growing pains. I believe you basically experienced a typical month-long adolescent-like growth spurt, but condensed to a time period of one-to-two days.” “Wow, this is wild, Doc!” Ted interjected excitedly. “Will this happen to Chad again?” “It's certainly possible. Typically adolescents experience one to three major growth spurts during puberty. Since Chad here is basically finishing puberty this may have been his last one but it's impossible to tell.” “So, I could be done growing?” my father asked with a hint of disappointment. “Again, it's impossible to tell. I don't think you are done growing, Mr. Graves. Keep in mind you experienced a growth SPURT. You are likely still growing slowly and steadily until your growth plates fuse, you just may or may not experience another spurt like you did.” “Ah ok. Well that would be OK, I guess.” Dad added. “Those growing pains were a major bitch. I felt like absolute crap during those days this week. I hope I'm still growing. I think it would be cool if I could be just a little taller.” I shuddered for a second imaging my father even bigger and taller than he already was. Six foot six is already head and shoulders above me and even more for most people. Ted and Dad got their treatments from Dr. J and we strolled out of the clinic. Ted spoke up as we walked. “Say, Chad. Vanessa and I are having some people over for dinner and drinks next Friday evening. Would you be interested in joining us?” Ted looked at me and added. “Oh, Sorry, Jed. I would invite you over but I think Vanessa wants this to be more of an adult dinner party.” “Haha! Ted, no problem. I don't want to hang out you with old farts anyway!” I joked. “I could use a night away from this geezer right here,” I said as I jabbed Dad's taught waist. The rest of the week we were back at it like normal. Ted was continuing to cut down and prepare for his competition in just two weeks and was looking leaner and more vascular than ever. My father and I would help him with his posing routine and every few days my father continued to hook with with his Tinder 'friends'. By Tuesday, Dad had seemed to settle into his new, taller frame and was back to lifting heavier and heavier weights on each exercise. It was a good thing UrbranFlex was a hardcore gym that had those huge dumbells that went all the way up to 200 lbs, because my father used them for more than one exercise. To fill up his taller frame he had also once again upped his caloric intake. He had ordered and was taking couple new mass gainer shakes per day to help add some quick calories and protein to his diet. My own body was developing more than ever as well! Living with this muscle beast I couldn't help but have some of his habits being to rub off on me. I was also eating more and also healthier and was much more intense and focused in the gym. I hadn't checked my weight in a while so on Wednesday before bed I stepped on our bathroom scale in just my boxers. I was floored when saw I was now up to 206 lbs. It doesn't seem like much compared the gains of my old man but it was still just over 10 lbs in two weeks. I was now the biggest and buffest I had ever been. I stood there in front of the bathroom mirror and threw up a couple of flexes myself. Most muscular. Double biceps. Side triceps. Of course, my posing form was quite novice as I was just mimicking how I had seen Ted pose, but I was happily impressed with my own progress. “Looking good there, Champ.” I was suddenly broken from my self revelry and saw Dad leaning against the doorway in just a pair of basketball shorts. My face blanched as he caught me in an embarrassing moment of self admiration. “I was gonna ask you if you had noticed your own progress,” my father added. “I felt like you have been so focused on me that you were blind to see how studly you are becoming yourself. You're looking very buff, Son. Way stronger and better than I looked at your age. Let me see your biceps again.” He stepped into the bathroom and stood next to me. Our bathroom was long and had a wall sized mirror so we could both see each other in the mirror. My father stood just behind and to the side. I raised my arms into another novice double biceps, admiring the firm but defined tennis ball size lump that formed. “Very nice, Son.” He reached out with his big hands and gave my right arm a squeeze. “Nice and solid, too!” I'm sure that if he used his full strength he could've crushed my muscle like a grape. “Damn, Jed. You really do have great proportions. Nice wide shoulders, a small waist and those killer young guy abs..” The one thing I may still have had on my old man was that my abs were more defined. His abs were larger and bulkier, while I had a nice developed six pack. “You keep it up and you'll be giving me a run for my money in a few years,” he chuckled. I laughed as well and re-flexed my arms and grunted even harder. “Better watch out old man. This young man is coming for ya!” “Haha, Son. You sound like you are becoming too big for yer' britches! You got a ways to go before you can match THIS!” As he finished his statement he stepped right up behind me. I could feel his heavy pecs pushing into my upper back, his handsome face rising up above my own head. He copied my pose, slightly lowered himself so the middle of his arms were at the same level as mine. Even from a few inches behind me, his gigantic arms muscles completely eclipsed my own. My own decently impressive arms did nothing to hide the mass behind them. The peaks of his biceps reached up higher than mine and the heavy sagging triceps fell well below my own. You could even see all the outer edges of his forearms extending well beyond my forearms as well. After getting caught up in my own developing muscular body, all it took was one simple flex for this herculean specimen to make me feel like a tiny kid again. Finally I grunted in mock frustration, “All right that's enough of that you big showoff!” I laughed and put my arms down and then threw my right arm backward giving him a light elbow to his waist. “Ooof!” he bellow as I connected. “Haha! Ok, Son. Have a good night,” he chuckled and once again mussed my hair before exiting the bathroom. By the end of the week Dad was of course looking bigger than ever, again. He seemed to have re-filled out his taller frame and was looking as thick, if not thicker than he had before his growth spurt. After our workout on Friday my father showered and got ready for his dinner at Chad's house. I was going to meet up with a high school buddy and we were going to check out the latest action flick. I couldn't help but beam with pride when my friend had noticed my improved musculature. “Damn, Jed! You're looking stacked,” he had said. I got home about midnight. Dad still wasn't home so I went to bed. On Saturday morning I got up to make breakfast when Dad lumbered into the kitchen looking as pumped as ever. “Mornin' Pops. Good party last night? What time did you get in?” He rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of then chugged down a large glass of water. “I'm not entirely sure, I just know it was late. The party was, well, it was...interesting.” He then half filled the glass halfway again and drank it down. “Oh yeah, why is that?” I asked. “By the way you're chugging that water I'm guessing you got some more action.” He deeply chuckled as he stood at the kitchen sink. He reached up to stretch that big tall frame of his, touching the ceiling again with his fingers and let out a big sigh to fully wake himself up. “You got that right, little buddy,” he admitted nonchalantly. He sat down at the table and gave me a wry smile. He knew I was curious about the details. “Sooooo, who was this one? One of Vanessa friends?” He continued to smirk at me for a few long seconds before speaking. “Vanessa,” he said coldly. It took me a few seconds to process what he had said. At first I though he was merely starting a sentence with 'Vanessa' but then I soon realized he had just admitted that he SCREWED Vanessa. Once the new information had settled in I completely went off. “What!?!? You fucked Vanessa?!?! Damnit Dad, what the hell is wrong with you!? Ted is your best friend and you go behind his back and screw his girlfriend?!?” He was surprised at the verbal abuse I was lobbing his way but he continued to remain silent. “You are being an asshole, Pops. Here I was thinking you are this great, awesome guy but you have become a scumbag! So what, after dinner you and Vanessa snuck off to her house to screw not only each other but your relationship with Ted!?!?” As I continued to give him a tongue lashing that wry smirk returned to his face. “Just because you've got these big muscles now doesn't give you the right to be a piece of shit human being... AND WIPE THAT STUPID GRIN OFF YOU'RE FACE!” I was now shouting at full blast. Finally he erupted in a fit of laughter. I watched his huge frame shake and shimmy with giggles of glee. It then dawned on me that he was playing with me. “Damnit. Are you messing with me, Pops?” “HAHA...maybe a little bit, Champ.” I sighed and relaxed at sat down at the opposite end of the table. “So, you didn't screw Vanessa?” I asked. His face turned serious once again and he clarified, “Oh I fucked Vanessa. But don't worry, Ted knows about it because he watched me do it.” Wait, what?!?! HOLY SHIT. What sort of perverted soap opera situation was going on here!?!? The grin had returned to his face as my own blankly comprehended what he had just told me. I couldn't resist I had to know the juicy details. “What!?” I finally spoke in shock. “Ok, so what hell happened?” My father than recalled the events of his night to me: Well, Son I showed up to Chad's at about 7:30pm. When I got there I was the only one besides Chad and Vanessa. Vanessa was wearing this tight little sleek black dress looking sexy as hell. They then told me that the others they invited had to cancel so it would just be us three. So we settled down for nice meal and some wine. Eventually, during the meal they admitted that they didn't invite any other people over except me. You and I both know that Vanessa is into some kinky shit from all the stories Ted has told us. It turns out Vanessa is highly into something called 'cuckoldry'. You ever heard of that, Son? As an American boy who grew up in the age of the internet with easy access to all sorts of porn I knew exactly what cuckolding was. I was afraid to admit it though so I played it off naively. “Yeah I think so. Isn't that where a girlfriend or wife has sex with another dude in front of her husband or boyfriend?” “Yeah basically like that. And usually the other dude is bigger than the other boyfriend or husband.” Ah. I knew where this was going. He continued his story: So Vanessa was asking me if I wanted to have sex with her, right there in front of Ted! I mean, the girl is stunning so of course I said yes. I looked at Ted who was just giving me one of those excited grins of his own. He was just as much into it as Vanessa! Ted told me that since he is so depleted for his contest that their sex life was pretty much on hold for the next couple of weeks. He just didn't have the energy or stamina for long fuck sessions right at the moment. Since Vanessa was such a sexual being, Ted himself was asking me if I would help them out. It was wild! After the meal and few glasses more glasses of wine Vanessa retreated to the bedroom. Before we joined her Ted and I talked, “Ted, buddy are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you're my best bud I don't want this to ruin our friendship.” “Chad, my man, don't worry about it at all. V and I have been talking about this since she first met you at our BBQ a few weeks ago. I know I talk about how kinky Vanessa is, but honestly, I'm the same way. I think its why she and I click so well. And look, I know that you know that I'm not...well...the biggest guy 'down there'. I love Vanessa and I want to keep here satisfied her in any way I can, even if it's with the help of another guy. Rather than finding some sketchy person on the internet, I'd be honored if it were you, big man. And I still want to be involved.” I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Ted WANTED me to sleep with his girlfriend AND he wanted to be in the room while I did it! “Well, Teddy, this is definitely the one of the weirdest things I've ever gotten myself into, but let's do it. Anything to help out my little buddy! Heck, my friend, you are probably the reason I've become as big as I have, so I owe it to you.” “Awesome, big guy. Ok Vanessa is my room waiting for us. A couple more things. V is really into dominance and role playing, so go along with the flow. She's probably going to say some harsh things about me, but it's all for show. Feel free to play along. Trust me, I will get as much out of this as you and V will.” This was just getting wilder and wilder! So Ted and I walked into his bedroom and there was Vanessa, standing in front of the bed in a skin-tight black leather dominatrix outfit, complete with one of those leather batons! She had us stand in the middle of the room, side by side and strip to our underwear. She stood in front of us and assessed her property. “My, my, my. We sure have quite the two specimens here, don't we. One ripped to shreds, tanned sexy man and one hulking muscle beast.” She the proceeded to grope both of our bodies. We had to keep our arms down at our sides as she played with us. Whenever we tried to move she would whack us with the baton which left small red welt wherever she struck. It hurt, but, it was weirdly erotic. I quickly learned to not move. She caressed all my muscles. She even licked my abs and chest and sucked on my nips and then did the same to Ted. Once her inspection of our bodies was complete, she said “Physically, I see you to are worthy of my presence. Now let's see if your packages are worthy as well. Mr. Ted, remove your shorts at once!” “Yes, Ms. V!” Ted spoke and dropped his shorts. They clearly had used these monikers before. “Oh my. Is this all you brought to the party?” Vanessa played with Ted's little pecker with her baton. “Mr. Chad, I am a very needy woman. I sincerely hope you can make up for Mr. Teds shortcomings here.” “Yes, I believe I can, Ms. V.” Then I dropped my own shorts and watched Vanessa's eyes go wide. “Oh. My. Gawd,” she said. My huge cock had clearly broken her out of character momentarily. Eventually she regained composure and slipped back into Ms. V. “Mr. Ted, this is what I expect of a man. What good are those ripped muscles of your if you have no cock. Go over the corner and watch as I show you what a real cock looks like. With me standing completely still, Vanessa knelt down and proceeded to work over my cock with her hands and mouth. She sucked the head of my dick until it got about half hard and then it was just simply to big for her petite mouth. From there on she continued to lick along my shaft and give me the handjob of a lifetime. She was a real pro! The only problem was, she kept breaking character. “Geezus, It's soooo big” she would say. “Fuck, Ted, look at this thing!” she said a couple of times as she glanced back at Ted. “You weren't lying about what you saw in the locker room that day!” Eventually, I had enough of of here indiscipline and decided to take over. My big bull cock was just too much for her to maintain her dominatrix character. I then leaned over and grabbed her by her shoulders and stood her up. As you know she's only about 5 ft 5 in so she was only about as tall as my shoulders. “Little Ms. V, I'm afraid I may be a bit too much for you to dominate. Therefore, I am now in charge. Please strip down to your bra and panties, NOW.” I could see a slight look of trepidation on Vanessa's face. Then she broke into an excited grin and complied with my demand. She realized I was right. I was the one who should be in charge in this situation. Or virtually ANY situation for that matter. “Yes, Mr. Chad.” “You and little Ted here shall address me as 'Sir' or 'Mr. Bull'” I demanded. “Yes, Mr. Bull!” Vanessa agreed. “Now, Ms. V. I want you to give little Teddy here a blowjob.” “Yes, Mr. Bull!” As Vanessa walked over to Ted I gave him wink. Ted smiled back at me and gave me a big thumbs up and V proceeded to deep throat Ted. Unlike my huge fuckrod, Vanessa was able to fit Ted's modest dick all in her mouth. I will say, luckily for Ted, he did actually plump up to at least a somewhat average 5 inches. He was bigger than you would think from seeing his tiny softy. After a few minutes of allowing Ted some pleasure I demanded that both Ted and Vanessa return to stand in front of me. “Ms. V, strip naked and then I want to you to compare and contrast the two dicks in front of you. Ted, stand in front of me and face me. Vanessa, on your knees in between us.” Ted and I faced each other, our two rock hard cocks pointing to each other, mine a couple of inches higher than his due to my superior height. Vanessa undressed and knelt down so she was at eye level to our erections. Her tits and nips were fantastic. “Vanessa, go ahead and tell me what you see.” “I see two cocks. Well, Sir, I see ONE cock and one dicklet. This little one here isn't worthy of being called a cock. This bigger one is fucking MASSIVE. I have to use both of my hands to completely surround it, because it's soooooo thick. With Mr. Ted's dick here I can easily close my hand around it and connect my fingers and I even have small hands. It's like comparing a toothpick to a rolling pin.” “Very good observations, Ms. V. What else do you notice?” “Thank you Mr. Bull,” Vanessa continued. “Mr. Bull, your cock is also so MUCH longer than Teddy's here. In fact, gosh! Teddy's entire dick is barely longer than just the HEAD of your enormous schlong!” “You know you may be right, Ms. V. Mr. Ted, I want you step forward until you are no longer able to do so.” Ted slowly shuffled forward until the tip of my cock touched his rippling abs. “Mr. Ted, why have you stopped?” “Well, Mr. Bull, Sir...” Teddy was getting into this as well. He IS a kinky little fucker! “I stopped because your enormous dick is pressing against my abs, impeding my progress toward you.” I then asked. “So you stopped because you ran into my dick. That's funny Ted, I don't feel your dick pressing against me at all. Ms. V, why is that?” Vanessa responded enthusiastically, “It's because you cock is soooooo much bigger and longer than Mr. Teds, Sir. You have a huge cock compared to just about anybody. But it absolutely DWARFs Mr. Ted's tiny penis.” “I think you are correct, Ms. V. But I think we should check scientifically just to be sure. Do you happen to have a ruler, Ms. V?” Ted briefly broke character and told her there was a ruler in this drawer of his computer desk. “Yes, Mr. Bull. I do.” Vanessa retrieved the ruler. Ted stepped back and she placed it on top of his erection. “It's right at five inches, Mr. Bull. May I measure you now, Mr. Bull?” “Yes, you may. Vanessa. Thank you for asking.” I have to be honest, champ. Playing the dominant man ordering those two around turned me on like nothing else ever has. “OH MY GAWD, Mr. Bull. You're cock is 11 inches long!” “Ahhh. Now you see why you will address me as 'Mr. Bull'. Mr. Ted, I've never been very good with numbers, but what exactly is two times five?” “Sir, I took a couple of math classes in college so I know that two times five equals ten!” Ted responded with a grin. “I see. And 10 is in fact, LESS than 11, correct?” “Yes, Mr. Bull,” both Ted and Vanessa responded in sync. “So if I am understanding correctly, Mr. Ted. My big cock here is MORE Than TWICE as big as your little pecker. That I am literally more than TWICE the man that you are?” As I glanced at Vanessa she was rubbing her own pussy getting of on our conversation. “Yes, Mr. Muscle Bull, you are correct. My little dicklet is less than half the size of your monster cock.” “Ms. V. What do you think of that?” I was started to worry that Vanessa was feeling left out. “I think it's amazing. You are so much more of a man than little Ted here.” “Ms. V, would you say that size does, indeed, matter?” “Oh yes Sir. Size matters A LOT. And you sir have A LOT of size!” I chuckled at her enthusiasm. “You got that right, babe.” I then grunted and raised my huge arms into a massive most double biceps pose high above both Ted and Vanessa. “Size does FUCKING matter. And I got SIZE everywhere, not just my schlong. Fucking big biceps. Big meaty pecs. Huge redwood thighs. Enormous lats and shoulders. I truly am a GIANT living in a world of puny little men!” I tell ya Son, I was totally getting into our size play. I couldn't help but massage my rock hard cock under the table and Dad described the events of last night. I was so close to blowing my load I had to be careful to avoid too much stimulation. From his panting I could tell my father was also super aroused from his own story. He continued: So then I told Ted to go ahead and fuck Vanessa to warm her up for me. I must say I was impressed with how Ted pleasured Vanessa. We both know he is a player and it seems he has mastered ways to satisfy women in spite of his lesser endowment. I could see him rhythmically pounding away at her walls and he had her moaning in pleasure. I let them go at it for a few minutes and then told Ted to step away. “Ok that's enough you two. Ms. V, I think it's time you experience a real cock, not some little weenie. Mr. Ted, little buddy, it is always important to practice safe sex. May I borrow a condom?” “Yes, our course Mr. Bull, I agree.” I sent Vanessa to retrieve a condom from the desk and she tore open the wrapper. “Ms. V, please place the condom on my cock.” I watched in amusement as she struggled to fit the condom over my oversized dickhead. She was able to actually squeeze it over my cock head but it was so tight it hurt a bit. Eventually the condom tore as she tried to stretch it wider. “Ms. V, I am getting impatient. What seems to be the problem?” “Sir, you're massive bull cock is too big for the condom,” Vanessa responded. “Fetch me another condom,” I demanded. Vanessa grabbed another rubber from the desk and handed it to me. I tore it open and rolled the condom down my middle finger. “Oh my goodness Mr. Ted. Where did you find this? I didn't even know they made condoms this SMALL! This thing barely fits on my finger!” Ted winced just a bit as I said this. I hoped I hadn't gone too far with my little friend. But he regained his composure and settled back into our role-playing. “Yes, Sir, I am able to buy those at the store.” “Well, I guess that's why I didn't know that. You see, I can no longer buy rubbers in stores. I have to special order them online Luckily I always come prepared.” I pulled a rubber out of my pocket. “This here is a Durex XXL. It's for BIG men, REAL men.” Luckily it just barely fits me. Ms. V, would you do the honors?” “My pleasure Mr. Bull.” Vanessa proceeded to open the package and rolled the huge stretchy ring down my pulsing cock. The condom covered about three quarters of my enormous erection. “Ms. Vanessa, I think it's time for you to feel some REAL size.” I led Vanessa over the bed and had her lay on her back looking up at me. I could tell she was a little bit nervous so I leaned over and reassured her out of character that I would be gentle. I also gave her a safe word. I then grabbed her legs and placed the head of my cock at the entrance of pussy and slow pushed it in. Vanessa let out a high pitched wail as it plopped in after much resistance. “OH MY GOD!! OW! CAREFUL CAREFUL,” she screamed. “IT'S TOO BIG!” I stopped with just the head in an let her adjust to the pressure. I looked over at Ted. In mock anger and annoyance I asked, “Mr. Ted, I told you to loosen her up. She is as tight as ever.” Ted responded, “I am sorry, Sir. Please understand that not only is my penis much tinier than yours, but your super cock is bigger than any she has ever had sex with. I sighed exaggeratedly, “Well I guess that's most likely true. There's not much out there as big as me. Guess I'll just have to be as gentle as I can until you get stretched out, little lady. But I got A LOT of power in these massive muscles of mine,” as I said that I flexed a most muscular down at Vanessa with my cock head still squeezed just inside her cooch. I could feel my huge muscles tighten and explode in relief as I posed. “I'll have to be mighty careful.” Once I felt Vanessa was ready I slowly pushed a bit more in as she let out another wail. Once she adjusted I slipped a bit more in. I repeated this process a few times. “Congratulations, Ms. V. I am now halfway in!” “OH MY GOD THAT'S IT! FUCK, IT'S SOOOO HUGE. YES! FUCK ME!.” She finally had adjusted to my invading monster and the pain on her face had turned to pleasure. I looked at Ted who was stroking his own dick, enjoying the show. “Mr. Ted, since I am halfway I guess that means I have already gone further into your girlfriend then you ever have, huh?” “Yes, Mr. Bull. You have filled my girlfriend with more cock meat then I could ever hope to. I am humbled by your alpha size. Please give my girlfriend the dicking she deserves,” I smiled back at Ted and winked as I enjoyed his praise. “My pleasure little buddy.” I then proceeded to slowly fuck the hell out of Vanessa. Slowly in, back out, and then slowly in just a bit more. I was impressed, in all she was able to take about nine inches of my fuck stick, more than most women could handle. When I got that far in she convulsed and screamed out even louder, I had quickly given her the first of many orgasms she would have last night. I fucked her in so many different positions, Son. It was amazing. She really is a kinky little bitch. She showed me a few positions that I would never have though of, positions that she said only well endowed men could pull off. Well, haha, I had no problem whatsoever in that regard. I think my favorite part of the night was when I laid on the bed and told Vanessa to ride me. As she straddled my waist and crouched down she had trouble getting my cock back in her cooch. Finally I grew impatient and enlisted the help of my friend, “Ted, come here and hold my rod so your girlfriend can sit on it.” Ted waltzed over and hesitated for a second as he eyed my manhood. He then reached his hand and grabbed the thick shaft. He squeezed it a couple of times out of sheer curiosity. He then held my massive fuckrod straight up for Vanessa. I could see the look of sheer awe and amazement in his eyes as he held my cock. Even with is big manly hands he could barely reach halfway around it. He could only imagine what it would be like to have a dong this fucking big. I even heard a faint “wowwww” escape his mouth. He looked me in eye as I smirked at him and let him know that yeah, I know it's fucking huge and I LOVE IT. So a couple hours later I could tell poor Vanessa was wearing down after her umpteenth orgasm. I had Vanessa lay back down on the back so I could pound away once more at her cunt. “Ok, little people, let's bring it on home,” I said. “Ms. V, while I finish I want you to turn your head and give your boyfriend the blowjob of a life time.” As I slid in an out of her now destroyed pussy she deepthroated Ted's little pecker. “Are you ready, little buddy?” I asked Ted. “Yeah, big man, let's do it.” I allowed him to break character as we finished. Ted timed his release with mine and we both exploded in deep manly grunts. I filled my condom nearly to brink while Ted simultaneously exploded all over Vanessa's face. For having such a little pecker he sure produced a lot of cum, I was impressed. I tell ya, Son, it was probably the hottest fuck of my life. Seeing tight little petite Vanessa beneath both my hulking body and Ted's ripped physique, it was better than any scenario a porn director could dream up. We slapped hands above her as we spent out loads. Ted would later tell me this was called 'Eiffel Towering', haha! As he finished his story I myself exploded in my shorts. I'm not sure if he noticed, he was so caught up in his own story, rubbing himself and his eyes closed so I don't think he did. I sat there at the table while his own breathing slowed down. He stood up and I got an eyeful of the bulge created by an 11 inch monster in his trademark WEM underwear. “Hehe,” he chuckled. “Sorry, Son, I worked myself up telling you about last, I gotta go take care of this.” And with that he sauntered out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. I sat there at the kitchen table, my underwear soaked, wondering what the hell my musclestud father would do next. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Whew. That was a long chapter. This is was my first foray into some hardcore smut so let me know if it worked or not. thanks!

CHAPTER EIGHT: THINGS ARE LOOKING UP It was once again Sunday, time for another rousing squat session. After my father's 'poor' performance last week he was eager to get back to it. Since Ted was nearing his own competition he wasn't going to be maxing himself out. The three of us worked our way upwards in weight. At 275 lbs Ted and I started our working sets while my superstud Dad used them as more warmups. Ted and I both did five solid reps and then my father stepped under the bar and did 5, then 10, then 15, then 20! reps. “Whoa big man, don't tire yourself out already!” Ted asked. “No, worries, Ted. Just getting the blood flowing. It's a take a lot a blood to fill up these wheels of mine.” Dad was wearing what I call 'coach' shorts. You know, those thin gym shorts that go about halfway down the thighs and have the notch on each side. The type of shorts you would see a stereotypical high school football coach or phys-ed teacher wearing. Dad wore them out of necessity for the leg workout. His big legs needed space to breath and expand during the squat session. “Well, Chad-man. Just be careful.” We loaded up 315 and then 335. I was pleased that I was able to get them both five times, a new personal record for me. We then bumped up to 355 and I was able to get it for three competition legal reps, an increase in 40 lbs since I last squatted. “Awesome, Champ!” my big Dad congratulated me as I re-racked the weight. As I leaned against the rack shaking my legs out he reached down and pulled up the legs of my gym shorts. “Wooo! Look at them big drumsticks!” I beamed with pride. There's not much more that will stroke your ego then a huge powerbuilder heaping praises on you. “You'll be squatting 400 lbs in now time, Champ!” My legs did feel as pumped as they ever had been. I was walking gingerly around the room trying to keep them from knotting up. “Thanks, Pops! You just keep pushing me and I'll get there.” Ted then banged out two sets of five at 355 lbs. He didn't want to go any heavier, he just wanted to get himself a good pump. Next we let my father continue his 'warm-up' sets. First at 405, then 455, then 495. That's right, he did a warmup at 495 lbs! He did five quick reps at each weight. Ted and I glanced at each other. This was the easiest we had seen him do these weights, we knew he was in for a BIG day. Up and up the weights climbed. Eventually we reached 585 lbs, just under his heaviest squat. He sauntered under the bar and rested it on his shoulders. With a small grunt, he straightened up, stepped back and completed five perfect reps, making it look easy! We then added a 25 lb plate to each side. He stepped back into the squat rack for his next feat. This time, with a bit more grit and grunting, my father again completed five competition worthy reps...with 40 lbs more than his last maximum weight! For good measure he decided to throw a dime on each side of the bar to bring it up to a grand total of 635 lbs. I had never before seen so much weight in person. The bar was now sagging mightily due to the extreme force being exerted by the iron disks on each end. Now Dad was starting to get serious. He gaze was boring a hole in the bar as he mentally prepared himself. He got under the bar, hoisted it up and stepped back. Ted stood right behind him, looking like he was going to start humping my father enormous ass, but was really there to provide emergency support. Dad slowly lowered the weight so his thighs were parallel and paused. Then with a gym-shattering yell raised the weight up. He the repeated the process. Then again. Then again! The power in this man was incredible! On the fifth rep his pause at bottom of the rep was extended. So much so that it looked like it was time for Ted and I to help. We made a move and more father barked out “NOOOOOO! I GOT THIS.” He hissed through deep breaths and he slowly squated the bar back up. He had done it. Five fucking reps at 635 lbs. He not only beat his previous PR weight, but did more reps too! Once he stood and turned around we could see the effect his efforts had on his legs. They were ENORMOUS. Full of blood and pumped to the max. His teardrop vastus medialus muscle was threatening to swallow up his poor kneecaps. Ted remarked, “Dude, your quads and thighs look ridiculous right now. You can pretty much say goodbye to ever wearing jeans, my friend. Shall we unload the weights?” “You know what, let's go ahead and make it full seven plates on each side. My engineering brain started computing the numbers. Seven plates on each side at 45 lbs each, plus a 45 lb bar makes...holy moly...675 lbs! Ted was no longer one to doubt my father. I think he was getting more excited that my Pops. “Fuck yeah, man. You got this no problem!” He slapped my fathers enourmous traps and shoulders. Dad repeated his pre-lift psyche-up process, hefted the tortured bar onto his gigantic traps and shoulders and slowly stepped back once again. Once his feet were set he slowly lowered the bar to the proper depth and rose back up. He didn't rest as long as the previous set, he clearly had finally reached a weight that was going to tax his system. He completed a second rep even slower, but still got it. As he stood up it looked like contemplated finishing set. Who could blame him. He just squatted 675 for two reps! It was the first time in a long time I had seen some doubt creep onto his face during lifting. However, big muscular Dad once more began to squat down, keeping his chest up, back slightly arched and pooching out that enormous bodybuilder booty of his. When he was down to parallel, we all heard a sudden, fabric laden explosion. I looked down and to my surprise and amusement, my father had just blown out the seat of his coach shorts with is huge globular glute muscles. The sudden distraction momentarily phased my father. I saw a slight grin appear on his face, he obviously found the situation as funny as I did. However, we was able to recover, refocus and began to very slowly complete the third rep. One the way up I heard another slight ripping sound. Now, the notches of his coach shorts were slowing expanding, the fabric tearing upwards due to the immense amount of leg mass filling them. He slowly stepped forward, with Ted giving him just a bit of support, and re-racked the weight bar. After a few second of him catching his breath he slowly turned around and faced us. All at once three of us bust out in laughter! Yes, my father's new feat of strength was amazingly impressive, but we couldn't get past the memory of him exploding out of his shorts. Ted finally caught enough wind to speak. “Hahaha. You big monster. That big ass of yours destroyed those shorts! Nice job Chad Kardashian!” “What can I say, Teddy? Glutes are muscles. And I got myself some big muscles, including these melons,” as he spoke he simultaneously reached back and slapped his ass with both hands. Then Dad looked down at his ruined shorts. “Well these are pretty much no use anymore.” He took both hands and simply ripped them apart, right there in the middle of the gym, leaving his lower body exposed in some short dark blue square cut spandex underwear for all to see. All laughter from Ted and I immediately stopped as we gazed upon the huge mass of muscles that made up his legs. They were completely sweaty and swollen due to his herculean effort. Veins were crisscrossing the quads and hamstrings. His legs were almost as vascular as Teds! Only his legs were MUCH larger. The were so big it looked like half the mass was now off the side of his knees, rather than directly above it. There simply was no more space above his knees, the new growing muscle had to start building outward. “Holy mother...” Ted calmy proclaimed. “Dude, we HAVE to measure those legs. I don't think I EVER seen such engorged thighs.” Ted when to his gymbag and pulled out a tape measure, because of course a gym obsessed guy like Ted had a tape measure in his bag. He came back over and knelt down at Dad's side. Seeing my Dad, huge as ever in his stringer tee and legs just exploding out that underwear, not to mention the perpetually hefty package he was sporting, it just seemed right that Ted should be kneeling at his knees. Ted held the tape on the front Pops' thigh and reach around and under the hefty bulge to connect the tape. “35 motherfuckin thunder thigh inches! Son of a bitch, big guy!” Ted couldn't help but add some bro-adjectives, a clear sign that he himself was in awe. “Fuck yeah man!” Dad once again performed his leg sway and stomp. Letting the sinewy mass wobble and shake and then suddenly tightening all the various muscles in a hard flex. I noticed that, as Dad was doing this, Ted was completely feeling him up, almost worshipping those enormous leg muscles. As the mass swayed he would try to grab a handful of the loose, yet solid mass. Once the mass was tensed it immediately escaped his grip. When the pillars were tensed Ted punched and slapping the iron flesh. I was jealous of his groping session. “Fuckin' amazing!” Ted shook his head and softly declared. For good measure, pardon the pun, Ted then taped the calf muscle. 22 more inches of man beef. He then stood up. “Ted, put your leg right next to mine.” My father playfully demanded. I could see some trepidation on Ted's face, but he knew he wasn't going to get of out this. Ted stood side by side to Dad and hiked up the shorts of his left leg. Wow. Now that he was nearing his competition Teds legs were phenomenally ripped. My father then stomped his gigantic right quad right next to Ted's left so the two ubermens' thighs were pressed up against each other. It was like a ripped leg muscle overload! My Dad's quads completely dominated poor Teds. They looked at least 1.5 times as wide. Ted may have had my father just slightly on conditioning, the but the overall added size was just too much to ignore. “Wow, Ted,” my father began. “You're legs look fantastic. You are definitely going to dominate your competition in a couple of weeks with those wheels. You're just lucky I'M not competing in your little division, huh.” “Haha you big jackass. I told you there is still time to sign up if you want to join me in the competition!” “Aw nah, that's alright for now. Maybe once I put on some real size I'll do a competition.” Ted just shook his head back and forth and rolled his eyes, “Real size? You don't' think those tree trunks of yours dwarfing my big legs count as 'real size'. What is real size, big guy?” “Oh, you just wait and see,” my father winked ominously at both Ted and I as he said this. Finally we headed back to the locker room, my father in just his tight bulging undies. It was Sunday afternoon so there were only a few of the hardcore dedicated lifters in the gym. As he sauntered toward the locker rooms he got some joking cat calls from some of the other big men. By now my father was well known in our gym not only for being huge, but for being such a fun guy too. “Ow Ow!” “Oh yeah baby show it off.” “Damn, look at that ass!” As he heard that last statement he looked over his shoulder toward the big lugs in weight pit and started playfully shaking his ass back and forth at them in a mock, stripper-esque dance. Big guffaws filled the gym as the big dudes laughed at my goofy father's antics. For the rest of the day I could tell my father was proud as a peacock at his latest feat of strength and I couldn't blame him. He was so charged up he decided to contact one his Tinder friends. He decided to go see her that night, even though it was a work night. He left the house at 7:30pm. As I was getting ready for bed at 10:30 he returned, whistling a happy tune with a contented look on his face. He clearly had gotten laid once again. He spotted me looking at him and reassured, “Don't worry Son, you don't know this woman.” The next night, after another killer chest workout, he decided he needed some relief again. “Again, Pops! Give the poor girl a rest.” My father smirked, chuckled lightly and responded, “Not 'again', Son. This is a different woman.” Gawd. My father was mowing through the women of this town like a John Deere. Tonight however, the woman was coming to our house. “She'll be here at 8:30pm, if you wouldn't mind hanging out in your room tonight I would appreciate it, Sport.” “Sure thing, muscleman.” I joked. Jeez. Were we going to have to start doing the sock-on-the-doorknob thing like you do at college? At about 8:30pm I heard a car door shut. Out of curiosity I looked through my bedroom window to check out my father's date. Wow. This was one beautiful woman. Not a girl, mind you. A sexy, mature, Mrs. Robinson type MILF. I guessed her to be right a round 40 years old, just a few years older than Pops. She had long black hair, large natural breasts, and was tanned and toned. She had that naturally fit look with just enough curves to accentuate her body while still proving that she was gym conscious. I listened through my bedroom door as Dad answered the door. “Hello there big fella,” she purred. Man, even her voice was soft and sultry. “I'm looking for a big man to satisfy me where my tiny, weak husband can't.” My father rumbled a low growling response. “Hmmm mmm mmm” he chuckled. “Well, Miss, I think I may have something to help you out. A woman as beautiful as you certainly deserves the BIGGEST and best there is to offer.” I heard some soft laughing from both of them as they continued their foreplay. Then I heard the woman exclaim, “OH MY!”, softly yet excitedly. I could only guess that she had discovered my father's 'biggest and best' asset. They then retreated to his room room. What came next was the most distracting two hours of my life. They both went at it like two sex-starved rabbits. Whereas when my father banged Amy and Mandy it was mostly them making noise, this time my Dad couldn't contain his own deep voiced grunts as he passionately rutted into Mrs. Robinson. She clearly knew how to please the beast just as much as he was pleasing her. Eventually I put on my headphones and tried to watch some Netflix on my laptop. Even through my headphones, every once in a while I could makes out high pitched screams from her and low grunts from him. Eventually they both finished, making so much noise I was afraid the neighbors would call us in for a domestic disturbance. I heard her exit the house. I peaked through the window and saw her walking with a slight limp to her car, which she got in a drove off. A few minutes after she left I came out of my room to get a snack before I went to bed. I noticed the front door was open so I peaked outside. My father was sitting on the porch in just his WEM underwear, smoking a cigar. He was leaning back with his feet hoisted up on the railing, looking like sexually sated muscle stud. The dim porch light casting a faint glow onto over-developed body. My father saw me through the screen door and I stepped out into the cool night. “Sorry if we made a bit of noise there, Buddy.” “That's OK, Pops. That's why God invented headphones.” He chuckled and then took another big puff from his cigar and exhaled. “You ever had an older woman, Son?” I responded that I hadn't. “Well, you will, Champ. And it will rock your world. I tell ya, the young girls are certainly fun and all, but there's nothing like a beautiful, mature woman with a bit of experience to blow your mind.” He closed his eyes and heavily sighed in contentment. “Fuck, she was a good lay.” I couldn't help laugh softly. “Well congrats on bagging a smokin' hot milf, stud man,” and he smirked and laughed back. - On Wednesday morning the unthinkable happened. My father came down with the flu. We woke up the same time and he came out of his room looking like shit, or as terrible as a huge powerful muscle man could look. “Oh man, I don't think I'm going to make it to work today. I've got a huge headache and I hurt all over. We've had a bug going around our office and I guess I caught it.” “Well go back to bed, Dad. I'll call the construction company and let them know you won't be coming in.” He went back to bed and I went to work. I checked up on my father via text message a couple of times throughout the day. He was still sick and was spending most of the day sleeping. He did say that he was hungry whenever he woke up which I thought was odd. Usually you lose your appetite when you have the flu. So after work I went the grocery store and got some more food. When I got home from work I noticed there were few unwashed Tupperware containers in the sink. There was also a plastic bag from our local Chineese restaurant on the counter. Dad was still eating and also must've ordered some takeout for lunch. I peaked my head into his room and saw him lying on his bed. He heard me and poked his head up. “Doing ok, big guy?” I asked. “UHHHHhhh. Still feel like garbage,” he moaned. “Did you get any food?” “Yeah, I'll make some supper and bring it n here to you.” “Thanks, Buddy. I'm really hungry, make me a big portion will ya? I'm going to hang out in here, I don't want you catch this bug, it sucks.” So I made him a big meal and took into his room. I then went to work out with Ted while he stayed in his bed the rest of the night. The dynamic was certainly different working out with Ted. He assumed the role of lead trainer as we worked through our exercises. Afterwards, Ted asked me if I would record his posing practice for him. We headed into a studio room and with his back to me, Ted changed into a pair of square cut black trunks. “I thought you guys wore thongs for competitions, Ted” “The bodybuilding division does. I'm actually competing in the Classic Physique division. It's a new division they added last year. It's basically in between the physique division, the guys who wear the board shorts, and the bodybuilders who where the posing thong,” he explained. “You're not competing in bodybuilding? You're huge, Ted!” “Haha well thanks buddy, really. But to tell you the truth, I'm really not. For these regional shows, I'm actually a bit small. For my height most of the true bodybuilders will be up in the 240-250 lbs range. I'm down to about 218 right now. The whole point of the classic physique is it's for guys like me who are way bigger than the skinny physique guys, but not nearly as big as the massive monsters in the bodybuilding division. Classic physique is about being big but still balanced and aesthetic. The idea is to look like the bodybuilders of the 70s and 80's, hence the name 'Classic Physique.” “And you wear the short shorts.” I observed. “Yep. Basically the bigger the muscles the less clothing you wear.” Ted went through his posing routine while I recorded with his phone. Wow, Ted looked spectacular. I thought realized how odd it was that whenever my Dad was with us he just overshadowed Ted so much that I was almost ignorant to what a stud Ted actually was. I couldn't believe someone could be so ripped and conditions. Ever muscle stood out, vein crisscrossed his entire body as he went through his poses. Without my hulking father nearly Ted easily the best looking muscle man at our gym. Once he was done I handed him his phone. “Damn, Ted. You look amazing. I can't believe how low your bodyfat percentage is.” “Thanks Jed! Hey, you gotta help me convince you Dad to do one of these competitions. He could totally compete in the bodybuilding division. I keep harping on him to do it but he's been resisting.” “Haha, I'll see what I can do.” The next morning, Thursday, Dad was still down for the count when I checked on him. I called his office again and let them know he would be out again. I contemplated to myself how nature sure can be funny. How the biggest, most powerful creatures can be brought to their knees by the tiniest of organisms. Finally, that afternoon my father texted me that he was starting to feel better. When I got home from work he had migrated to the living room and was laying on the couch taking a nap in a giant pair of boxers and a loose t-shirt. As I shut the front door he woke up, stretched his mighty frame and sat upright on the couch. “How you feeling today, big man?” I asked from the kitchen. “Ahhhhhhh.” He sighed and stretched. “So much better. I could tell I was starting to get past this bug right after lunch. I guess I needed one last nap this afternoon and now I feel great! I think I'm even going to be to lift tonight.” I walked into the living room to further our conversation and inspect his condition. “Are you sure you want to risk it, Pops?” I looked him over as he sat on the couch. I have to say, he was looking very good. Of course, he was muscularly enormous and seemed bigger than ever, but that was how he normally looked anymore. Overall, though, he looked refreshed, pumped and ready to take on the world. Much better than the haggard complexion he had yesterday morning. “Well, you do look pretty good, big guy.” “Now that I'm woken up I actually feel fantastic, Champ!” He exclaimed happy and hopped up off the couch. He stood up in front of me and we both noticed something very, VERY wrong. Instead of me looking straight ahead at his mouth like I was used to, I was now staring at his thick, taught neck. I slowly tilted my head back to look up, WAY UP, into his stunning brown eyes. In contrast he had tilted his big head forward and down and gazed at me with a stunned look on his face. “Holy shit, Dad. You grew...again! And a lot faster this time!” “This is...is...unreal...” He said as he struggled to find the words. He tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. He slowly raised his thick meaty right arm so that I was now looking right at an armpit, and reached straight up. Then, he slowly reared up on his tip toes so that I seemed to shrink even further down before him. Once on his tip toes he was actually able to brush the 9 ft. ceiling with his fingers! “Woah... I'm so freakin' tall I can touch the roof” he proclaimed in a calm excitement. He put his arm down and looked down at me again, “Son, you look way smaller than I remember.” I scowled, “Oh gee, thanks, Dad.” “Oh sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I know you're not smaller. I just...just...I feel like a GIANT standing here in front of you!” I couldn't argue. He LOOKED like giant to me right the moment. He had reached a height that was unusual for any man. And he had pounds and pounds of muscly beef covering his frame that made him look even more frighteningly huge. I stood there rooted in place trying to process what I was seeing. My father then reached out both him arms toward me and slid his baseball mit sized hands into my armpits. With seemingly no effort at all he hauled me upwards and held me at arms length until my feet were dangling several inches off the ground. At my new level we were now staring straight into each others' eyes. “Geezus...” I spoke from my lofted postion. “You're not using hardly any effort holding me like this, are you, Dad?” His mouth curled into grin. “Not really, Son. You feel light as a feather. I remember holding you like this years ago when you were a little guy growing up. Heh heh...I guess to me now you are a little guy again...” He set me back down. “C'mon, let's go see how much I grew.” We headed to the kitchen and my father stood at the wall where we last measured his height. I leveled off the top of his head and made a new mark on the wall. I got the tape measure and stretched it upward along the wall. I reached the mark and read the result: “Six Foot...and SIX INCHES.” My father let the number sink in. Finally he burst out in joy. “FUCK YEAH!!!” He reached both of his beefy arms up, stood back up on his tip-toes and once again touched the ceiling, just to prove that he could. “Six foot six!!! Man, that is FUCKING tall! I am HUGE! Gawd, I feel so POWERFUL” he continued to boast. “I can see clearly over you head, Son!” “Wow, BIG MAN... You know, Dad I've read that the main range of height for men is something like 5 ft 5 in to 6 ft 5 in. I mean sure, if you were on the low end of that you are short and on the high end you would be considered tall, but for the most part it seemed 98% of men in the world fall into this range. YOU, are now above that bell curve!” “That's amazing, Son. I feel it. You know, it just feels right. That I should be in that 'super-tall' range. My height should match these powerful muscles of mine.” He put his hand on hips and widened himself into a lat spread pose. He was starting to sound a bit egotistical. “I can't wait until Saturday, I have to see how much I weigh now.” He bounded to the bathroom and pulled out our old spring-dial scale. He stood on it and dial spun and rocked back and forth before finally settling on 330 lbs. “OMIGAWD! 330 lbs! Dad, you are bigger than an NFL lineman!” “Oh yeah, little buddy. And those lineman always carry A LOT of fat, unlike me.” My father reached down and pulled off he loose white t-shirt leaving him in just his baggy boxers. Scanning over his furry, shirtless hulking mass he actually looked a bit leaner. I didn't look like he had grown much or at all in musculature but it seemed like the small amount of fat he had had stretched over his new height. Proportionally it didn't look like he had grown much bigger. If you looked at him from afar he looked just about the same as he had two days ago. It's like some had simply xeroxed him to a bigger size. He still wanted to know his new stats so I went to the kitchen and grabbed the tape measure. He launched into a novice posing routine, mimicking how he had seen Ted flex at the gym in the past. He hauled up both arms in a fantastic big man double-biceps pose. At his new height my eyes were right at the same level as the melon sized arm muscles. He turned sideways an puffed up his pectorals in a side chest pose. He brought his arms up forward to bring them behind his neck when his hands smacked into the hanging lights above the bathroom sink. Luckily, they didn't break. “Oops. This new size will take some getting used to...” he chuckled. He placed his hands behind his neck and crunched into an ab and thigh pose. With each pose I took his measurements and verbally encouraged him on. “Damn, look at those peaks, Pops. Huge! Geez, you could rest a cup of water on that pec shelf! Man that horsehoe on your tricep would fit a Clydesdale.” From the bulge forming in his boxers he was obviously getting excited from his new giant status and stats. I read them aloud: “Waist: 34 inches. Chest: 58 inches. Arms: 23 bone-crushing inches” I decided to add some emphasis on his arms for fun. “AHHHHH. Fuck yeah, Son.” My father closed his eyes as the feeling of POWER and SIZE continued to wash over him. I looked down and was once again shocked by what I saw. His dickhead was now hanging slightly out of the bottom of his boxers. It was slowing engorging and rising upwards, pulling the fabric up along with it as it continued to rise. I could see the look on his stunningly handsome face. My father smirked back at me. He had finally had enough of this modesty thing. He was the ultimate man and he decided then and there that he had no qualms of showing off to the world or even his own son. He yanked off his boxes and we both watched as the shaft continued to swell upwards and outwards. Eventually it filled to its full, rock hard size. As I stared wide-eyed, all I could think of was a Pringles Can. “Let me see that tape measure, Son.” my father gruffly requested with a smug look. He placed the end of the tape at the base his fuckstick. No cheating here either. He didn't press the tape into his pubic region to try to cheat out any extra length. He didn't need to. He ran the tape along the shaft until he reached his piss slit. “OHHHHH yeahhhhhh...” he moaned as he mentally processed the number. I leaned over he hugely developed arm so I could see the reading. 10.75 inches on the dot. My muscle stud father was sporting a nearly 11 inch long, ultra thick horsecock. I started to bone up in my jeans thinking about the numbers. I wasn't gay or anything, but there was just something about standing next to this purely testosterone filled being who seemed to make sexuality obsolete. Once my father snapped out of his self revelry he had a request. “Son, if you'll excuse me I gotta take care of this, here. Then we'll get ready to lift and give little Teddy a BIG surprise!” he winked at me as I exited the bathroom and shut the door. I headed back to my room and took a moment to really think about all that had been going on. It was hard to process. My father was almost evolving onto a higher plane on manhood. Not only were his muscles growing, he was becoming more handsome, more virile, and of course, TALLER! I could only fantasize what that must feel like. To see and feel yourself become bettter and better than all the puny little men around you. Knowing you could have any woman you wanted and that no other man would be able to stop you. As these thoughts swam in my head I slipped off my jeans and underwear and began to jack my own respectable rock hard dick. I heard the deep, loud grunts emanating from the bathroom and as my uberDad did the same to himself. Eventually I heard him climax and right after I did the same. It was the most intense orgasm of my life. I couldn't wait to see where things would go from here. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Next chapter. Ted and Vanessa invite Chad over for dinner. Also, the next chapter will take a bit longer. I'm going to be traveling next week and won't get to do any writing while I'm away. enjoy!

CHAPTER SEVEN: DON'T MESS WITH THE BULL On Saturday late morning Ted came by to pick us up and we headed to see Dr. Jock. He honked the horn of his pickup and we headed out and climbed into the cab. “Mornin boys!” Ted pronounced in his cheerful jockish way. Somehow, Dad had squeezed into an XXL white t-shirt, which had not gone unnoticed by Ted. “Sonofabitch Chad! You really should stop shopping at Baby Gap!” “HAHA! Actually I think this might be one of YOUR shirts. I think I must've grabbed it our of your gymbag because it is rather snug,” my father retorted. Their playful, bickering banter was a constant source of amusement to me. My father seemed to latch onto Ted like he was the brother he never had. It was good to see Dad with a close friend after all these years. “Welcome back gentlemen.” Dr. J acknowledged as we entered his office and took a seat. “Ok, well first things first, I understand your height has increased too, Mr. Graves and I...” “I KNEW IT!” Ted shouted, echoing my reaction from a couple of days ago. “I thought you looked taller but couldn't believe. This is incredible, big man!” Ted clearly shared litte or none of the concern that I regarding this revelation. Dr. Jock chuckled at Ted's reaction. “Yes, it is quite amazing. But I understand Jed here has some concerns and rightfully so. So Mr. Graves I want to take full body CAT-scan and take spinal tap just to make sure you're hunky dory. “Well, he's got the HUNKY part down, that's for sure,” Ted joked. My father just rolled his eyes as Ted laughed. “And don't worry Mr. Graves, I'm not going to bill you for the x-ray. I'm just as curious as you are as to what's happening to you. Your physiological response to the hormones has been nothing short of astounding. Before we do that though let's check up on the basics.” The two muscle hunks stripped down to their unders. Ted whistled at Dad big bulging body. “You sure have come a long way, man. Amazing.” It was quite a site seeing these two huge pillars of macho manliness filling the Doc's office. Ted with his ripped, tanned physique and my father with his lighter complexion, slightly off-season, furry bodybuilder muscles protruding in all directions. “Hey thanks pal. I owe a lot of it to you. And damn, Ted your abs are NUTS! Look at that six..no eight pack, damn!” “Damn right! Ted crunched his torso down further deepening the grooves between his stomach muscles. “Oh yeah look at these!” “All right that's enough you two pageant queens!” Dr. Jock interrupted and we all laughed. “Darn, prissy bodybuilders...” he added, chuckling Ted stepped up on the scale. “228 lbs... ...and 7.2% bodyfat,” Doc read and recorded the numbers. Wow, so that's what single digit body fat looks like I thought as I silently appraised Ted. “Nice. Right where I want to be.” “Ted, I understand you are doing a bodybuilding show in June, is that correct?” the Doc asked. “Yeah, in four weeks. Plenty of time to slice away a bit more fat.” “You don't have any fat to cut away, dude!” Pops added. “Yes I do. You don't know what ripped is. You're too used to seeing a WHALE in your mirror every day.” “HAHA, jackass,” my father replied. He then shoved Ted of the scale with one heavy arm. I don't think Pops intended to use much force but Ted clearly had to catch his balance as stumbled off to the side. My father didn't seem to notice. Doc stared at the scale screen as it digitized the numbers. “Ok Mr. Graves. 275 lbs and 12.3% bodyfat. And you are now 6 ft 3, right?” “That's right, Doc.” “And when you started you were 6 ft 2?” “No, 6 ft 1 actually.” “Wow. Mighty impressive Mr. Graves. Mighty impressive indeed.” “Cripes, man. Did you fall into some nuclear waste or something?” Ted joked. “Cuz if you did, tell me where it is, I want to swim in it!” Once the numbers were logged, Doc proceeded to give the two men their injections. Ted still not knowing that my father was getting a bigger dose. Ted then got dressed and we went and my father got his CAT-scan. Once that was completed he came back to get dressed and we heard a loud 'rrrrrrRRRRIIIIIPPPP'. “Well damn, there goes another one,” my father spoke, annoyed. As he squeezed into the unfortunate shirt his right armpit had blown out. He reached over to inspect the hole with his opposite arm and it similarly tore with another 'RRRRRIIIPPPPPPP'. “I TOLD you not to shop at Baby Gap, you freakin' hulk.” “HAHA. Yeah I guess I gotta move up to toddler's section now!” My rather then reached his left arm across his bulbous chest again grabbed the right sleeve. With quick yank, the doomed shirt sleeve simply detached itself from the rest of the shirt as if it were a kleenex. He then repeated the process with the other sleeve and thew the remains in the trash. I had gotten used to seeing my Dad hulking muscles of the past couple of weeks. He mostly now wore tank tops, t-shirts or just went shirtless. But I tell, ya, there's something about a big, masculine, muscle man in a sleeveless shirt that just exudes power. He stood there, his chest heaving up and down with just those big boa-constrictor like arms exposed, hinting at the power that was still hidden beneath he rest of the shirt. Maybe it was because it hearkened back to his ons-site construction days when I remember him wearing shirts like this. If he had a yellow hard hat on you'd think he was looking for an I-beam to pick up and haul across a dusty construction site. “Ok, it will take a couple days to study your results.” Doc turned to look at me, put his own hefty calloused hand on my shoulder and added, “And honestly, Son there is no reason to worry, I'm sure of it. I'll let you know as soon as I can if I see anything troubling.” “Thanks, Dr. J.” - The following day, Sunday went as normal. We met up with Ted for another squat session. For the first time in while my father seemed to struggle, if you could even call it that. To any normal person he was crushing his workout. He was still able to squat an incredible 595 lbs for three reps, but apparently this was his first workout since he started that he wasn't able to squat more than the previous week. He was visibly frustrated with his “failure.” That night Dr. Jock called us back to discuss his findings. My father brought me into the kitchen and put the doc on speakerphone. “I have generally good news, Mr. Graves, by all accounts there is nothing wrong about you, still healthy as ever. Of course the most interesting thing is that you grew taller. I've been reviewing your case history as well as the results of the x-ray and spinal tap. I believe I have a theory. If you recall you told me your story about how you had a traumatic spinal injury playing football in high school. Using this knowledge, what I have found is that your growth plates never actually fused, and I suspect it was because of that injury.” We listened intently trying to understand the implications. “Sooooo, is that a problem? What does that mean? You said 'generally good news', Doc,” I asked. “Basically, it means your father will likely continue to grow in height. My theory is that your father's accident in essence stunted his growth. Mr. Graves, did you remember if you grew after your accident?” “I don't think so Doc. I remember reaching my adult height when I was a sophomore, the same year I had my accident. I was... 16 years old if I am remembering correctly.” We could hear the Doc typing away over the phone. He paused speaking for a few seconds and then spoke up, “Sorry, gentlemen, just taking some notes on my computer. Now Jed, do you remember when you reached your adult height? I answered, “I know it was after Sophomore football. Likely my Junior year, I was likely 17. I remember my getting my height measured for the football. I was 6 ft even my sophomore year and 6 ft 1 in both my junior and senior years.” “Uh huh, interesting,” Doc typed furiously away. “So, is there anything to worry about Doc?” I again asked, losing patience. “Well Jed, I am 95% sure there is no danger to your father's health. I only hesitate to say 100% because that fact is we in some uncharted territory here. You're father's growth plates should've fused together years ago when he was a teenager. I'm going to continue to monitor you like usual, Mr. Graves. And if it's ok with you I might ask for some more tissue samples from time to time. You may actually have some value to the medical field. “Sure thing, Dr. J. If I can be of help in any way just let me know.” “So Doc, why did Dad grow in height just now if his growth plates have been un-fused all this time?” “I'm not absolutely sure, but I believe it to be a combination of the HGH, testosterone as well as a general recent intense shock to his body as a result of his workouts. I believe these factors combined have basically restarted his puberty, to put it in layman's terms. “So does that mean I'm going to get acne, be moody and have...wet dreams and stuff,” my concerned father asked. Dr. Jock let out a laugh over the phone. “Oh goodness no, I don't think so. Thankfully for you, your body, for the most sorts, finished puberty, it's just that your mechanism that stops height growth never got that final door shut.” “So, is Dad going to grow more? This is crazy.” “I have every reason to believe he will grow more, yes. Again, I am going off theory here, but Jed, you reached your adult height when you were 17 or so. Your Dad was injured when he was 16. Therefore I thinks it's very likely your old man here has a few months to a year left to grow before his plates fuse.” I stood there in stunned silence at what I was hearing. “So how much will he grow?” “And that, my dear Jed. Is the ultimate question. You grew about and inch your last year...” “But Dad has already grown two inches!” I interrupted. “Indeed, and I believe his growth has already been accelerated by the hormone treatments. If we had just simply restarted his growth I would estimated about one inch growth. But since he's been, well, boosted by these treatments, it's difficult to tell. Could be one more inch, could be a few more.” My father and I were looking at each other in disbelief. Here was my father, an actual miracle of modern medicine. He finally asked the doc, “So does this mean we should stop my treatments?” “Well Mr. Graves that is up to you. Again, based on what I've seen so far I wouldn't expect any negative side effects. We can stop if you are worried about getting taller, Chad.” My old man looked at me again with pleading eyes. I could see the restrained excitement behind them. He had already put on so much muscular size and had just recently been blessed with with a couple extra inches of height. My father had already given into the thought of 'bigger is better', and here he was with the ability to make it come true. I knew my father valued my opinion over anything else and I knew if I told him to stop the treatment he would on the spot. A part of me wanted him to stop. He was already so much bigger and more manly than I was. How much further could he go? I knew it would crush him if I said no. While I was a bit nervous at the thought, I was also curious to see what would happen. Finally, I cracked a grin and repeated my affirmation from when he first asked about increasing his hormone treatments, “Go for it, Dad.” His face lit up like a toddler on Christmas morning. “Well you heard my Son, Dr. J. Let's see where this goes.” “Excellent, Mr. Graves! We'll continue to see you on the weekends. If anythong comes up just let me know.” We hung up the phone and Dad excitedly squeezed me in musclebear hug, my feet dangling well off the floor now as he leaned back. “Isn't this exciting Son! I've always wanted to be a little taller, what man doesn't? Thanks for supporting me champ.” “Haha. You are the one supporting me, big man.” “Haha sorry.” He let me go slid back to the ground. “I feel so much better. I get to relieve those teenage growth glory years! I was a little nervous all day long hoping the Doc wasn't going to come back with bad news.” “Ah, so that's why you had such a 'terrible' day in the squat rack.” I said adding air quotes to 'terrible'. “Yeah, next week I'll have to make up for it I guess.” - Monday was Memorial Day and we all had the day off, so Dad, Ted and I went to the gym that afternoon. Dad hit the gym with a renewed purpose. It was hard to imagine that he could kick his workout up another notch, yet here he was. Sweat was pouring off his forehead as he furiously attacked the weights. Instead of his normal loud grunting, he was now full on yelling, letting everyone in the gym now that nobody was going to match his inhuman work ethic. His regular working bench press sets were now well above 400 lbs and still climbing. You'd think with his recent growth in height and the length of his arms that he would struggle somewhat. You'd be dead wrong. Ted's workouts hadn't changed much. As he told me, he was now working on shredding up for his competition so he wasn't necessarily trying to get bigger or stronger. I had now been home for three weeks and was happy to see some some real progress. I weighed myself this morning at 195 lbs, almost back to where I was last fall. With these crazy workouts and Dad's enormous meal plan, which I did my best to keep up with, I was stronger and more solid than I ever have been. After our workout Ted invited us over to his place to join few of his friends for a low key BBQ for the holiday. We headed home to shower up and get ready for the gathering. It was a beautiful day, in the upper 70's, perfect for the unofficial start to summer. I had thrown on some flip flops, khaki shorts and one of my favorite slim fit graphic tees, showing off my sturdy college boy physique. I waited in the living room for Pops to get to ready. A few minutes later he walked out wearing his own flip flops, light khaki shorts and a red golf-style polo shirt. Now, golf polos are supposed to nicely loose and airy, but this thing looked stretched to its breaking point. The three buttons at the neck were undone, of course. There was simply no way any of them would be able to button up any of that heaving pec meat under the fabric. The shiny material was pulled tight and taught over every one of his round upper body muscles. There is something about polo shirt, that when it is filled to the brink with man mass that just seems to broadcast its wearer's pulchritude. Combined with his handsome, perma-stubbled face, Dad looked like testosterone personified. The khaki shorts were thankfully just loose enough to not be obscene, hanging down to just above his knees, exposing the thick teardrop muscle that was proof this man never skipped leg day. His bulge was obvious but I'm not sure there was a piece of clothing out there that could hide his male superiority. “Damn, Pops, how did you even get that polo on?” “Haha! It took some effort, I'll say that. I haven't worn this shirt in few weeks, its definitely tighter than the last time.” “Well, just be careful not to make any sudden movements tonight or you'll hulk out and give Ted's guest's a show.” “Ah man, so no flexing?” Dad brought up with left arm and began to flex the enormous sleeve covered biceps. We could hear the tell-tale sound of seems beginning to tear and he instantly put it down. He grinned and chuckled, “I guess you're right, better keeps these guns holstered tonight.” What a showoff. We grabbed some extra steaks, Dad wanted to make sure there was enough beef to eat, and headed to Ted's house in his F150 truck. Once we arrived Ted he introduced to his other guests. There were four other guys there all about Ted's age, late 20s and early 30s. Two of them had brought girlfriends. They were clearly all jocks or former athletes, everyone was attractive and fit, although not nearly to the level of either Ted or my father. All the guys were in awe of my father. Even amongst these healthy lads he was obviously the alpha male of the BBQ. Inevitably much of the conversation between Ted's buddies and my father focused on his impressive physique. I heard all the telltale jock talk topics such as “how much do you bench, how much do you eat, what's your workout routine, how big is your chest.” My father happily answered all their questions as they interviewed him. “Seriously, man. You're going to have to upgrade to a bigger polo. You like you could hulk out at any moment. You better not eat too much steak tonight!” of the guys said and everybody laughed. Another beautiful buxom blonde came out of Ted's house carrying a tray of hot dogs, steaks and burgers. “Ah, Chad, Jed. This is Vanessa, my date.” Ted introduced us. Ted had always been a player and we hadn't yet heard him speak of Vanessa before. Because of this it's likely this was only their second or third date. Vanessa shook my hand and then my father's. “It's nice to meet you. Wow, Ted. Is the the big guy from the gym you told me about.” “Yep, that's him. The man-beast, himself, big Chad Graves.” Vanessa couldn't take her eyes of my father the rest of the night. Like everyone else, she was infatuated with him. I couldn't tell if Ted noticed or not. Unlike everyone else, she wasn't very good at hiding said infatuation, least it seemed that way to me. Maybe Ted was too busy grilling to notice, but Vanessa was clearly flustered every time she conversed with Pops. I caught her constantly staring at his chest, his biceps and of course, his prodigious bulge. I noticed at least once my father caught her staring and he discreetly gave her a smirk and sexy wink. The rest of evening went off without a hitch. We all ate too much from the grill and enjoyed each others' company. Finally, we all headed home at about 8:00pm. The rest of the week was more of the same, except my father was even more of a beast in the weight room, if you could believe it. I don't know where he was finding the extra energy and oomph. Every workout the weights and reps climbed. He had started bringing two stinger tanks to work out in. He would switch one out about halfway through his workout because it would be just absolutely drenched in sweat. I asked him one day at the end of our workout, “Damn, Pops what's gotten into you. I thought you were intense before but this is almost scary. You're muscles almost look RED they are so swollen.” “Well Son, the doc gave me a clean bill of health and said I may only have a few months to milk this growth for all its worth so I want to don't want to let any of it go to waste. Gotta push myself to the absolute limit to get the maximum results while I can.” On Wednesday our hot water heater had broken so we decided to shower at the gym after our workout with Ted. As we undressed for the showers Ted was chatting away in his typical jock mode. He finally stripped off his underwear and set his towel on the bench. I couldn't help but take a quick peek. Poor Ted looked to be one of those guys who contributed to the bodybuilders-have-small-dicks stereotype. It couldn't have been more than two or three inches soft and was also quite thin. I couldn't help but do a double take. Thankfully, Ted didn't notice my reaction. I happened to glance at my father who saw my double take, he apparently had also noticed Ted's surprising undevelopment as well. I could only hope, for Ted's sake, that we was a grower because he definitely not a show-er. Ted continued chatting away, bragging about his latest conquest. All I could think about was how it was a good thing he had model good looks, a crazy hot bod and a charming personaltiy to make up for his other shortcomings. “Oh man, I don't know what get into Vanessa on Monday night after our BBQ, but she was a complete animal in bed. I mean, we've messed around a few times even before we started officially dating, but she was on fire, man. Getting into all sorts of kinky shit. Best sex I've had in a long time...” My father just shook his head and grinned. I think he knew why Vanessa was so charged up that night. He then joked to Ted, “As if you need to do any more fucking. I'm surprised your dick hasn't fallen off from overuse.” Ted laughed and joked back, “No need to be jealous dude, just because you can't get any...” If only Ted knew... Down to just his black spendex underwear, Dad stood there in front of Ted looking like a overdeveloped gladiator. He evilly smirked at Ted and began to speak, “Oh don't worry Teddy...” He then hooked his thumbs in his spandex underwear, bent forward and pulled them down in one swift motion. “...I've got NOTHING to jealous of.” As he stood up his massive flaccid circumcised crotch tube was exposed, hanging heavily against his meaty thigh. All seven+, thick as hell flaccid inches of giant man cock. Ted stood there, eyes bugging out and his mouth agape. It was the first time I had seen chatty Ted speechless. After a few silent seconds my father mercifully ended his humiliation of his buddy. “Well! Let's hit the showers, boys!” he said cheerfully and he turned and swaggered to a shower stall, towel hanging over his shoulder. Ted certainly would never question my father's sexual prowess again. Ted gathered himself and his shower caddy and hurried to a stall shower in silence. I did the same. When we were all clean we dried off and headed back to lockers. I noted that Ted had cinched his towel tightly around his waist for this return trip to his locker. My father, on the other hand, hung his towel over his meaty shoulder and slowly sauntered back to his adjacent locker, naked as a jaybird. I knew my Dad well enough to know he was silently relishing proving his alpha status to his best pal. Ted was self consciously turning away from my father while pulling on his boxer briefs and the rest of his clothes. Conversely Dad stood there next to him unnecessarily rummaging through his locker and setting ALL his clothes on the bench before pulling any of them on. He was taking his sweet time, letting it all HANG out for as long as he could. At one point, while still nude, he reached his monolithic arms straight up, arched his back and STRETCHED with a grunt, causing Ted to look him again and giving him a reminder of just how much more of man big Chad Graves was. “Grrrr, ahhhhh,” my Dad groaned. “Boy that was a good workout, eh Teddy!” “Uh, um. Yeah! It sure was big guy!” Ted's voice cracked slightly when he said 'big guy'. Finally my father started to slip on his clothes, again taking his time like it was some reverse strip-tease. Once we were all dressed we grabbed our bags and exited the locker room. “We'll see you tomorrow, buddy!” My father said to Ted as we parted ways in the parking lot. - The rest of week went as normal. The following days Ted had either repressed the encounter or accepted his status as beta to my father and was back to his normal playful-jock self. My father continued to dominate in the gym. I noticed was also eating even more. He was going to the grocery store about every other day to keep the fridge stocked with eggs, poultry, beef, vegetable, rice, all the staples of a muscleman diet. He wasn't watching too much TV anymore as most of his free time was spent in kitchen preparing the massive amounts of food to aid his growth. And it was all clearly working. By the end of the week he was noticeably bigger than he was during his last checkup. To the naked eye he didn't seem to have gained any height, but when he turned sideways I could tell his chest was protruding our further than I remember. Not to mention I noticed the fact that by Friday afternoon the ruined clothes pile in the laundry room had just about doubled in size. He was going to have to go on a shopping trip soon if he didn't want to walk around naked. Since Dad had been given a clean bill of health I decided to skip he and Ted's weekly Saturday appointment with the doctor, instead opting to mow the lawn which I had been putting off. An hour and a half later the lawn was mowed and grass was bagged and I went to the kitchen to chug down a refreshing glass of water. As I finished drinking Dad came in through the front door. Today he had opted to go for his university linebacker coach look. He was wearing his vintage grey Marauders t-shirt with matching baseball cap, the same outfit he wore when he helped me move out of my dorm about a month ago. If his shirt was tight back then right now it looked spray-painted on. Dad walked right up to me with an bright smile and youthful energy. “Hey Sport, guess how much I weighed in at today?” He asked with a grin. He had been gaining about 5 to 8 lbs per week. I thought back to his last weigh in. I gave him a once over and guessed, “I don't know, Pops...283 lbs?” He continued to stare at me for a few seconds leaving me in suspense. Smirking that handsome face, hand on hips, looking wide as a barn door in his tortured college pride t-shirt. Finally he spoke. “Two hundred and ninety six pounds,” he revealed. I stood there in front of him processing the number. My engineering brain is usually good with numbers, but this couldn't be correct, he had to be pulling my chain. Sure, I could tell he was thicker all over than last week but he couldn't be THAT much bigger, right? I mean, 296 lbs is a gain of...what...over 20 lbs since last week! Is that even possible? “Cat got your tongue, little guy?” he asked grinning. “Are you...serious, Dad?” “Oh yeah, Ted, Doc and I all saw the numbers. Ted weighed in the same as last week so we know the scale wasn't broken.” “Holy shit, Pops! That's like 20 lbs in ONE week!” He chuckled. “Yeah I could tell I was making some good gains this week but even I was surprised. I just keep on growing faster and faster and I LOVE it.” As he spoke Dad stepped even closer so that we was only about a foot in front of me. He looked down at his right arm muscle and slowing began to raise the elbow to shoulder level while extending his right hand out as far as it could go. I noted the tortured shirt was covering both the heavy unflexed biceps and triceps. He made a fist and, keeping the elbow at deltoid level, began to contract the biceps. The heaving mound began to slowly rise, filling the skin with sinews and blood. It split into two distinctive heads of muscle that proved these truly were BI-ceps. Just when I thought the peak couldn't rise any further, it did and a loud RRRRRRRIIIIIIIPPPPPP broke the thunderous silence. The poor vintage shirt simply could no longer contain the gargantuan arm muscles of my alpha stud father. A seem tore right along the top of his split speak toward his shoulder. My hulking father just laughed raucously out loud. “Well damn. I guess that's another shirt for the pile. Shame, I really liked this shirt, too.” He quickly brought up his left arm, flexed it too and got an identical result. RRRRRIIIIIPPPPPPPP! “HAHA!” He laughed giddily at the thought of outgrowing yet another shirt. Now that the shirt was ruined he decided to take it off so he could add it to the clothing mass grave. Only problem was, he was now just flat out TOO BIG to easily take the shirt off. He couldn't even get it up over his massive chest. “Oh screw it!” he finally said as he reached up with both of his big hands and grabbed the shirt collar on each side of his neck. He then slowly extended both hands outward, slowly tearing the doomed shirt right down the middle exposing the deep cleavage of his pectoralis majors and then his big hairy abdomicals. He tore the shirt as easily as tearing a slice of cheese. “Ohhhhh YYYYYYEAAAHHHHH GRRrrrrrrrrrrrr,” my father was totally getting into his own hulk out, clenching he teeth, and staring intensely into my own eyes during the process. Finally, both arms were completely extended out wide, each hand holding one half of the lost shirt. “FUCK YEAH, CHAMP! I've ALWAYS wanted to be able to do that...” He stood there, proud as hell at his ripping exhibition. Now that he was shirtless I could clearly see the extra 20 lbs of muscle beef distributed all over his body. His musculature had progressed from high level local bodybuilder's physique to that of an amature national super-heavyweight contender. He looked even leaner than last week. I don't think he had actually lost any fat, but the extra 20 lbs of pure muscle had obliviously lowered his body fat proportion. “GEEEE-ZUUUUSSSS. Pops, you are a FUCKIN' OX!” I shouted with astonished praise. My father chuckled that deep manly chuckle of his, smirked and responded, “No, little man. Not ox. I'm a fuckin' muscle BULL!!!!!!” He punctuated his response with an intense most muscular pose. All his upper body muscles tensed in synchronicity making him look even bigger. Veins appears all over his arms and chest. His traps rose up threatening to impede on his ears. I watched in awe for a few seconds and then I couldn't help but laugh. While in awe of his ever growing muscles, he always maintained that fun playful attitude. In response I brought my hand up to my forehead and faux-military saluted him. “Yes, Sir, Mr. Muscle Bull, SIR!!” He rumbled a big deep laugh again, his entire body shaking as result. “Damn right, Son!” +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ More slowburn??? Ugh! Man, that dredlifter is a jerk! Thanks for you patience! Now that the growth mechanism has been established, shoddy science and all, I'm hoping to pick up the action from here on out.