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muscleworshipUK0

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About muscleworshipUK0

  • Rank
    10+ Posts
  • Birthday 12/07/76

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Profile

  • Location
    UK
  • This profile is a...
    real profile.
  • Gender
    Male
  • Orientation
    Gay
  • What are your interests?
    Muscle worship, growing bigger and bigger, competing, size difference
  • What are your stats?
    6'3 225
  • What are you seeking?
    Worshippers
  • What are your dream stats?
    6'3 275
  • Favorite Stories
    Anything by Londonboy FanTCman
  • Favorite Bodybuilders
    Big ones, roided freaks
  • Got Any Fetishes?
    Lycra esp Under Armour

Recent Profile Visitors

2433 profile views
  1. Beast Master I: Danny

    Fantastic plot and outstanding writing. Love it!
  2. Military muscle

    Is it The Compound? 1. https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20646-p1.html 2. https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20665-p1.html
  3. The Magnate and the Monster

    Exceptional work and so well written. Ticks a lot of my boxes
  4. Growing the professor - 2

    Part 1 is here Part 2: When I woke the following morning I was naked in bed, save for a skimpy shiny silky blue poser that I wear for competitions and kinky sex. It took me a moment to come to. I remembered posing in the mirror last night in my UA compression gear… fuck my biceps looked so huge. The memory of them rippling made me gasp. I remember feeling power – a surge of power that grew from within, making me wanna flex and swell and explode my cum; like nothing I’ve felt even in the horniest of horny moments. I had to catch my breath now just thinking of it. I remembered cumming real hard, with a massive release and extreme orgasmic pleasure, nothing I’ve felt like before. My body looked perfect in the mirror and it felt right to cum so hard looking at it. I remember falling to my knees with the effort, and then… I sat up straight in the bed… that student! He flashed into my mind, which had previously only been occupied by my muscular body and reflection. How did he get here? What was he doing? My last memory of the night was falling to my knees, the student standing behind me, rubbing my shoulders and caressing my neck. I can’t remember what he was saying, but it felt good. I just remember feeling good. The posers and how they got on me… no memory at all. I moved to get out of my bed, but I felt different. I pulled back the cover, and saw that I was… thicker all over, like the swell and the pump from my workout hadn’t gone. Damn, I have to try high reps more often. I hauled out of the bed and not used to the additional size, waddled a bit to the big mirror alongside my wardrobe. It took a second to focus from slumber, but they were definitely looking a bit more swollen. In the tiny posers, they quads looked really massive, arcing out in a larger than usual curve. I rubbed my crotch absent-mindedly while admiring them, flexing from different angles. I started to jerk a bit, but my phone buzzed, to remind me of a work meeting. Damn, hadn’t much time. No time to wash, I pulled out a pair of freshly laundered pants and one of my work shirts. I had them professionally laundered each week, as I liked to look pristine at all times. Concentrating on balancing, I lifted my leg into one of the trouser legs, and pulled it up. When they reached my thigh, it was tight, tighter than usual. I liked them snug, but it seemed the extra pump was making the snug fit tight. I wiggled a bit and pulled them up over my quads. In the mirror, I saw that they looked more like spandex tights than trousers. The tightness across the quads was causing them to shine a little in the light.It looked so fucking good. My phone buzzed again: email from my head with material to prep for the meeting. Dammit, it would have to do – I had to go. It was the same with my shirt. I noticed pulling it on that the sleeves were tighter, and closing it across my chest meant that the buttons pulled apart a little with the strain. I looked in the mirror. It was faintly ridiculous, but the tightness and the sense of exhibition turned me on. I rubbed my crotch again until my phone buzzed again. DAMMIT! I moved as fast as I could through to the kitchen. The additional volume of my legs and the restraint of the pants meant that it was hard to walk right. In the kitchen, there were two shakers filled on the table. Strange, I don’t remember leaving them there. Beside them was a note: “Hey BIG MAN! Great fun last night… you’re getting bigger all the time. Bet those pants are a bit tighter this morning haha… Here’s some fuel for the day – remember what I said – drink it all down. We want to get you as big as possible don’t we? See you later for more fun. Ken xx” Ken. That was his name! I think I remember that. I looked at the shakes. Something was going on, but while I tried to think about it, I just thought of my reflection in the mirror, the tight pants and the shirt ready to burst. Ken was right. I am going to get as big as possible. And these things will happen. It’s a natural part of being a bodybuilder. I’ll just have to upsize my wardrobe sooner than planned. I picked up the first shaker and knocked it back in a few gulps. Man that tasted GOOD! I picked up the second. I took it into the trophy room. My huge mirror there was where I liked most to look at myself. I took a few gulps of the shake. Damn these clothes look so fucking good on me. I gulped a bit more. Love how they show the full volume. Look at the swell on those biceps! I took out my smartphone and took a picture as I gulped again, flexing as I did (of course). I looked at the photo, and a bit shocked, saw that I was really pumped. I was looking really huge! Ken said I would feel the effects. Which reminded me! Ken. I was meant to send him a photo of me posing. He made me promise. I better do it quickly, he will be really disappointed if I don’t. Ken loves my muscles and understands how much I need to grow. I tapped on the phone and sent him the photo. “Enjoying the view” I thought that was a good caption. Ken would know what I meant. I looked at the photo again, and got horny thinking about my size. Soon these clothes won’t contain me at all! Damn I look so freaky right now. I wanna…. The phone buzzed again and more work shit came through. Cursing, and taking one more glance in the mirror, I left for work, enjoying the tight feeling of clothing on my body as I sat in my Audi’s leather seat. Fuck I felt so horny and it was only 8 am. ----------------------------- Ken woke to the sound of his phone buzzing. It was a message from his latest acquisition. He looked at it and grinned. Damn that man was big. Such potential! Little did he know what he had in store. He forwarded the message to his client. “Acquisition 5A-2 is now in Stage 2. Will confirm when Stage 3 is complete and he is ready for processing.” He hit send and then lay back in the bed, looking at the photo again. Jerking off to it, he came quickly at the sight of his prey bulging in tight clothing. Damn he was gonna have fun this week. Maybe he would delay Stage 3 and the inevitable handover for a while. But he knew his client was an impatient man. And he paid a lot of money for things to happen quickly. ----------------------------- I love to hear comments and suggestions.
  5. Growing the Professor

    “Excuse me Sir, could I ask you a question?” I turned from the whiteboard I was wiping down and barely suppressed a grin. It was the same every year since I’d started lecturing. After the first lecture, some dizzy girls, pretty gay boys, and even some not so gay, would come down from the lecture hall to the stage. Pretending to be interested in my topic and coming up with some dumb-ass questions just so that they could get a closer look at me. Enjoy the view from close up. I even played a game each year to see if I could spot this year’s candidates. But I didn’t guess this one. Probably cos he was so fucking small that I didn’t see him in the crowd. This twink must have been no taller than 5’6, baby face with neat black hair. His clothing was neat and well fitted, showing off his tight body. Yes, I could bang him. The thought of my huge body on his made me drift away for a second. Picture in your mind what a typical professor looks like. That’s not me. I’m exactly what you wouldn’t think. Instead I’m what you think if someone said college sports star, except now pack in a high IQ and a genius for finding unusual ways to mimic biochemical reactions. Brawn and brains were at my disposal. Even without trying, my physical presence was impossible to hide – 6’3 and 255 solid. My Italian momma gave me great looks and my Slovak dad gave me a frame designed for muscle physique. I’d softened a little since college rugby days, but body fat still wasn’t too far from single digits. Add to that a fondness for expensive fitted shirts that formed around my torso with just enough give so that it tugged without being too tight. Lats showed just by the right amount and pecs swole nicely to make sure they were an obvious statement. Tailor-made pants that showed off my quads and glutes nicely. I knew I had a great body and I liked to show it off. Hell I loved to show it off. I loved the crowd, listening to my every word. Watching me as I strutted on stage, Taken in by the heady mix of mechanistic biochemistry and by my supreme physical condition. Well let’s be honest; mostly taken in by me. These lucky people had the opportunity to observe a perfect physical specimen. The top 1% of our species. I love the adulation, the feeling of superiority. I usually needed to jerk off within an hour of giving a lecture. The twink asked his question – something sensible as it turned out. As I detailed my reply, I noticed his eyes drift to my arms, biceps swollen in the tight sleeves, or sneaking a glance at my pex. My shirt today, crisp white with a silken sheen – meant that the room lighting accentuated the bulges perfectly. At one point I even saw him just lick the inside of his lips. “That make sense?” I asked in a manner that assumed it did, and moved to go back to my office. “Sure. Yes, em of course. Thank you Sir.” He seemed disappointed that the show was over. But I am a busy man, much in demand. And I had my research group meeting to get to. I loved the feeling of my pants on my legs as I walked – better strutted – back to my office. I was thinking about the student, his eyes darting over my body trying to drink it all in. Dammit, I wish I didn’t have a meeting now. The excessive and obvious adulation made me real horny. Knowing that I was gonna do legs in the gym later and get em even bigger had me even hornier. I got to my office and my research group were waiting. After that the dean needed to see me to talk grants – I was the biggest grant winner in my department by a factor of three – and he wanted me to run a seminar for other faculty. After that I had to talk to some rich parents of prospective students; a special favour to the president. Three dads and indentikit blond-bimbo elbow candy moms all lapping up my every word. By the end I had secured twice the donations the president was hoping for. One of the dads left me his business card with his “direct line” written hurriedly in pen while his wife loitered by the door, urging me to call to discuss future opportunities. I get that a lot. So by the time I was ready to leave for the gym I was super horny. My body felt hyper-energised in the absence of my mid-day jerk off. It was gonna be a supreme workout. I used the college gym. I loved the testosterone of the rugby team, and the eagerness of all the college kids, wanting to “be huge”. I loved how I was a giant among them, even the bigger players. They rarely spoke to me but everyone knew I was there. It was an unwritten rule not to engage me. I took my workouts very seriously. I raked up 450 on the bar to get some juices flowing in squats. High reps meant that my legs gorged full with a pump. I wore my Under Armour shorts for leg day; red and black patterned, nice and tight and my big quads pushed them up high. On top I wore a sleeveless UA tee, silky black; lifting weights even on leg day gives my arms a pump that I love to see. When I workout, I focus on me. My reflection. My reps. The gym becomes a blur. I am in the zone and the zone is to get a pump and to grow. The sound of liquid splashing at my feet broke my concentration. I heard someone squeaking a loud “Fuck!”. I refocused on my surroundings. He was standing next to me. That damn student from earlier. “I’m so sorry Professor, fuck I have knocked over your bottle.” My gym drink – had a lot of electrolytes, along with some extra… “help”. Hey – I’m a biochem prof… I looked at him and wanted to crush him into the ground. He looked like he was going to cry. “I’ll run and get you a refill of water!” Before I could speak, he had my container and was at the fountain. I turned and checked out my legs. Zoning in again on the priority. Me. They had swollen really big with the pump. My UA shorts were shoved right up real high by the swollen muscles. Damn I was getting bigger – people say growth slows in your late 30s. But like everything else, I was proving people wrong. Lost in flexing and checking out my legs, I didn’t notice the twink return. “Daaaamn. Your legs are sooooo…. Massive!” He seemed to have to think about the word. He held out my container. Lord he was so tiny. I thought of myself, mounting him, crushing him under my weight as I fucked him. What was I double his mass? Bending him over some gym bench so we could both see it in the mirror. How fucking huge I was compared to him. Crushing him between my quads, which were getting close to being bigger than his torso. Hell yea. Superior being. Other kids in the gym stared over. They’d never seen anyone talk to me before. Even the big oafs who were closest to me in size never dared. They were watching to see what I would do. What I would say. This puny twink had done something they’d never dared to do. I flexed my quads again, so that they swole up, veins running over them. I waited, watching the full effect dawn on my admirer, and the general audience. Without a word, I slowly turned back to the rack, and pumped out another 20. I got lost again in the blur and didn’t notice my admirer slink back to the aerobics area, watching me closely. Hell, I was so used to people watching me I didn’t even notice anymore. Well. That’s a lie. But I spent the rest of the workout pushing out hard high reps, getting my legs so pumped I could barely walk. I took a slurp of my drink each time. It tasted different than mine, without the electrolyes and my own blends. But it didn’t taste like water. But come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I had just water… I never waste an opportunity to get something into my body. It was hard to leave the gym. My legs were swole and I had to waddle, partly cos they had gotten so pumped, and partly cos there was so little energy left. I loved the feeling, and it added to my horniness. I couldn’t wait to get home. I drove fast, windows down, so the breeze could keep my sweaty body cooler, and dampen the extreme horniness feeling. But no matter how fast, there was always a car behind me, headlights just in my mirror. Even when I put the foot down – and an Audi can go pretty fast – the car behind kept up. I turned into my drive feeling a bit dizzy. Damn that workout was intense. The lights too in my eyes didn’t help. I pulled myself out of the car, easing off the leather seats. As I shut the door, a car pulled into my driveway behind me. The headlights stayed on while the driver stepped out. I could see the outline but immediately I knew – it was that fucking student again! I felt a rush of rage and stepped up to him. The tightness of my legs and the pain of a rushed walk just made me angrier. “Now look kid…!”. I started. “Wow prof, you are so pumped! Jeez look at your size – never seen a bigger man.” I slowed in my tracks, a bit stunned. “Hell yeah!” He continued. “You’re the biggest. And you can only get bigger!” He spoke slowly. Deliberately. He seemed tiny. I felt huge. He was right. I was so freaking huge. Unstoppable and he knew it. “Let’s go inside and see what you’re packing Big Guy.” Yeah I wanted to show it. That’s what it’s all about isn’t it? Love the attention. Adulation. I opened my door and he followed me in. “Show me where you flex big man. Let’s see the show.” I was so horny I couldn’t think straight. I NEEDED to display. To show off my body. All my hard work. Fuck I am superior and I gotta show it. I walked to the ground floor room that I called my trophy room. I had a couple of mirrors there, some basic barbells for a pump, and my trophies from sports and competitions. I loved flexing there, amongst the golden statues. “Oh yea Big Man, this is perfect. Look at you - you have the trophies to prove it. Fucking big alpha man isn’t that right? Hell yeah big man. Let’s see those guns – what are you packing there?” I turned to the mirror. All I wanted was to show. To display. To hear approval and adulation. “Fucking packing 21 inch calibre guns.” I spoke to no-one and everyone. I spoke to my reflection, flexing a double bi, totally focussed on my arms. I loved how they swole. They were pumped from working out and my forearms were super veiny. I felt his hands on them. Rubbing them from behind. A film of sweat made them glisten in the light, and his hands ran over them smoothly. “Fuck Big Man you are so huge. Those guns are the biggest I’ve ever seen. You gonna get them bigger? Damn they are gonna be so freaky? Tell me Big Man. Tell me how huge they will be.” “Ah yea… want them bigger. Big freaky gunz… everyone starin’, love the swell of my arms. Pump em up nice and big.” Take some more liquid man – we gotta keep this body fuelled and hydrated. You want to grow more don’t you?” I took the container and guzzled it back. Yea I need to keep fuelling. Need to keep growing. I tossed it to the floor and flexed again. Damn my bis looked so fucking hot. I need him to say it. “Tell me how big my bis are.” I tried to command, but it came out as a plea. “So huge man… but we’re gonna get them bigger aren’t we?” And then he said it again: “You’re the biggest. And you can only get bigger!” Ah yea… my dick was aching now in the compression pants. “You need roiding and fuelling big man. Trust me. I can make you grow. I can get you bigger. And that’s what you want isn’t it?” He was rubbing my crotch as he spoke. All I could see was muscle – my huge muscle… feeling bigger, year I would get bigger, need to flex, need to show it all… freak huge specimen… aw yeah damn I am gonna blow… fuck I am gonna be huge… feel the guns… tell me how huge I aaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmmmmmm…. I shot a huge load into my shorts, he kept rubbing, squeezing my balls draining every drop…. I fell to my knees with the output of energy, legs completely exhausted. He stood behind me, not much taller. Facing the mirror he grinned at my kneeling muscular body. “Oh yea big man. You’re the biggest. And you can only get bigger!”
  6. Awesome stats man! I didn't know the Hulk grew up in the UK ;)

    1. muscleworshipUK0

      muscleworshipUK0

      Ha nice one... continuing to hulk up more.

    2. tomofutah

      tomofutah

      Hey handsome, thanks for the +reps on my pics and comments!  I'm not worthy...but appreciate the hell out of it anyway...tom

  7. Himbo/muscleboy-bull stories

    This story was pretty good - a muscle toy grown for pleasure. Needed more dialogue.. Any more like this? http://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25567-p1.html
  8. Love pre-christmas gym intensity. Get the most out of it

  9. Short stories

    1. Feeding time "What the fuck did you just say to me?" He looked sheepish. His big stupid face frozen a moment, eyes cast down. A drop of white fluid dripped from the corner of his mouth, over his big slack lower lip. I reached out with my hand and used my thumb to push it back onto his lip. He used his tongue slowly to take it back into his mouth. "What did you say?" I asked again, not as unkindly as before. He big eyes looked sad, and for a moment, I felt gentle. "Said I'm full." He looked up a little, so he was staring at my chest. Always avoided eye contact since the early days of our training. "Sir." I pushed against one shoulder, which was covered in tight white long sleeved Under Armour top I insisted he wore during feeding time. He complied easily and turned around. Amusing how such moving 350 lbs of muscle mass was achievable by just my finger. As he turned - slowly because of his physical bulk - to face the wall mirror, I enjoyed the sight of his huge ass, full and round, bound up in red compression tights, that were similarly part of his day wear. Each cheek would fill a basketball hoop. They pulled in the fabric tightly into the crack. I thought of the smooth hard cheeks underneath, eagerly awaiting attention on my command. Sadly though, this day was to be my last with him. "Now, what did we agree?", I asked turning my attention back to him. "You said to me that day in the locker room that you wanted to be as big as me. And I told you you'd have to eat how much?" He looked confused for a moment, trying to recall the memory. I remembered the day all too well. I had snared him as I snare all my beef. Pumped up huge in a downtown gym, baiting a college kid who wants to stand out. A guy who needs to get bigger. I feed that need. "Twenty... thousand?" he asked, as if unsure this was a number. "That's right. Well done." He smiled, responding to the positive feedback. I noticed he flexed his pex. Such good training. "And how many have you eaten today?" The look of puzzlement again. I confess as much as I love blowing these boys up to freaks, it is watching their brains dissolve into protein mush that's makes them stand out for me. Huge dumb muscle boys. And a lucrative business too. People pay a lot of money for muscle sex toys. "I dunno, Sir. I..." He stopped, the act of thinking how much he had eaten too much for him. He rubbed his big nipple absent-mindedly. That was training too. When he became overwhelmed with thought. It made them hard and very suckable. I had success in breeding a previous bull in milking those huge nips. That got me an extra 10% on price. Rich people have the weirdest fetishes. He'd eaten about 40000 calories today. I didn't bother counting. But he was getting picked up later by his new owner, and I wanted him real heavy. Nice full turtle shell gut. Big full muscles. Pumped and swollen to the maximum. "Not enough, boy. Never enough." Let's get the auto-feeder on you to keep it going. "No, Sir please.. no not..." I smacked his ass cheek. He silenced. I strapped on the mouth funnel, pulling it tight. "Now let's get another two injections in while this is on boy." Turning on the fueller, protein oozed it's way into his mouth. The sound of him slurping and gulping made me want to fuck him there and then. But I couldn't this time. I needed him pristine. The new owner was a first time client. Rich investment banker from Texas. Maybe he'd want a farm full of these muscle boys. Wanted to impress him with his first. I injected two doses of my formula into his butt as the fueller chugged. These would make him swell nicely. Make him nice and big. I'd heard the client had a sadistic streak. Liked super huge sweaty muscle bulls and didn't think about limits. This bull might have an interesting life in store. not that anyone would ever see him again in public. He slurped and grunted as more thousands of calories were fed to him. I rubbed his expanding arm and shoulder. "That's it boy. Eat it all up. You wanted to be big, didn't you?" The machine chugged, feeding him more and more.
  10. Muscle Farm

    Ah yes forgot this one - brilliant story.
  11. Muscle Farm

    Great concept. Can't believe this doesn't appear in more stories. If anyone would like to RP or co-write something along these lines (muscle farming bulls), it's one of my favourite scenarios!
  12. One of those days when the gym goes SUPREME. Leave feeling really cocky, ready for a huge fuel.

    1. jojo9

      jojo9

      Tell us more big guy.

  13. Grow me into a huge freak bull.

    1. Paarke

      Paarke

      I want you massive. I want to see you on stage at Mr O making all the other guys look anorexic

    2. muscleworshipUK0
  14. So how many of us here have bigorexia?

    Who doesn't want to be bigger? But what's sad here is the guy can't enjoy the journey there.
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