Hi guys, I've been lurking here for a while, and this seems like a really cool community. I was inspired to attempt writing a muscle-growth fetish story.
I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think. I don't know how much time I will have to write, so unfortunately I can't say when part 2 will be ready.
John sighed as he looked himself up and down in the mirror. He was sick of how plain he looked. 5’9”, skinny arms, slight belly, no muscle definition. Maybe 170lbs. He felt painfully average.
He looked at the campus gym flier on his desk. There was a picture of a smiling, ripped athlete on the cover. Thick corded arms poking out of a bulging, campus-branded tank top.
John had made a couple of aborted efforts in the gym in the past. Would this time be any different?
With a sigh, John sat down and dialled the number on the flier. What did he have to lose?
“Coach, you gotta agree. I am outgrowing this team.”
Coach raised an eyebrow.
“You're telling me you want to make varsity next semester?”
“Hell yeah, Coach!”
Coach had to admit that Jordan had improved a lot since he'd joined. The brawny teenager had the right build for a linebacker, but when he joined all he could do was throw his weight around. Maybe that worked in high school, but not so much at the collegiate level.
Still, he trained hard and learned quickly. Coach had to admit he had talent.
“Ok, kid. I’ll consider it. But you know, you’ll have to take your training to the next level. No more of this crap on the weekends.”
“Shit, coach. What are you saying?”
“Watch your language, kid. I’m saying you’ve put on 30 lbs so far this year, but how much of that was liquid calories?”
“No way, Coach. That’s not fair. You know your varsity team drinks like fish.”
“Yeah, but they know how to keep the weight off. Look, kid, I can make you a deal. If you can lose 15 lbs before the start of next semester without your strength going to crap, I’ll put a word in for you.”
“Oh man, Coach! Thanks! I won’t let you down!”
Truthfully, Jordan had never spent a lot of time improving his diet. But he had friends who had cut before. He was 220 lbs and 6’2”, it couldn’t be too hard to lose 15 lbs.
John wasn’t totally new to the gym, so induction was pretty simple. He had a free trainer session to get him started. His trainer looked like a strongman, exactly the kind of build John dreamed of having.
“Do you have a goal, man? Just trying to get fit?”
John was distracted by the hairy, brawny forearms of his instructor.
“Um, I wanna be less scrawny, I guess.”
“A grower eh? Ha, I’ll give you the same program we give the football team. You need a nutrition plan?”
“Uh, sure. Honestly, I don’t really know what I’m doing with my diet.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. We all start from somewhere. It’s $17 for a meal plan if you want.”
Screw it. “OK, sure, that sounds good.”
“Sweet! Ok, let’s go into my office and talk nutrition and programming...”
The first two weeks of the cut went amazing. Jordan was eating 2500 calories, which was a 500-1000 deficit by his calculations. He looked and felt amazing. He couldn’t stop smiling in the changing room at the campus gym.
He’d had abs before, but they were really cut now. He could tell that he was destined for the brick abs you see on the fitness magazines. He also noticed more vascularity on his forearms. They were one of his favourite body parts, naturally veiny but they were responding even better to the cut.
Not only that, but his lifts had actually gone up dramatically. He didn’t know how to explain it but somehow he had broken a plateau. He was already one of the strongest players on the team, but now he was varsity material for sure.
At the end of the second week, he confidently stepped on the scales in the locker room to check his progress.
Well, that was confusing. But maybe the scale was busted. Or maybe it was just a fluke. Like, the wrong time of day or something.
There’s no way it could be right. He had missed the biggest kegger of the semester for this. No way he could have GAINED weight. He was on his best behaviour. It had to be a fluctuation - tomorrow it would be down for sure.
The first couple of weeks, John was sweating like a pig after every workout. His form was sloppy at first but he got into it pretty quickly. The bigger problem was honestly the nutrition. His trainer had him chugging gainer shakes every day until John felt like he was going to throw up.
Still, every weekend he did the prescribed meal prep; every morning he measured out his shakes and supplements; every meal got logged in the food diary. And after a couple of weeks, he did feel stronger. His lifts were going up and his arms weren't quite as scrawny as before.
But his daily weigh-in hardly changed since he started. In fact, it had gone down slightly. John had gotten noticeably leaner - 165lbs down from 175.
His PT said this was fairly normal for beginners and probably just "newbie gains". But just to be sure, he'd upped John's daily calorie intake by another 10%, so it was now sitting at a little over 3000. John had never eaten so much food so regularly, so he was pretty confident this would work.
Jordan had been dieting for 6 weeks. He was eating so little now that he felt dizzy after every workout. He had started logging his meals and he was barely eating 1500 calories. But he was still gaining weight, albeit slowly, sitting at 232 lbs.
He was freaking out. The semester was almost over and there was no way he could meet his target. Well, not without taking performance enhancing drugs... but then he'd fail any tests, for sure.
When he looked in the mirror, it didn't make any sense. He was obviously in the best shape of his life. He looked big and cut, with more vascular forearms then he had ever seen.
With a growl of frustration, Jordan resigned himself to confronting the coach about this next time he got the chance.
John had run out of calories to add to his diet. It felt like his life had revolved around eating, or meal planning. At least, until the time he ate too much and threw it back up.
That incident caused him to go back to the drawing board. Was this fitness thing working for him? Well, he couldn't deny he was in the best shape of his life. He had a six-pack for the first time. Admittedly it was a pretty slim six-pack, the kind of thing you see on athletic teenagers, who play soccer but never set foot in a weight room. Still, he was proud of it. That, and he was the strongest he had been in a long time.
But something was off...
His progress in the weight room had plateaued way earlier than the internet seemed to think it should. Yeah, you can't compare yourself to every guy in the gym, but still. Most full-grown men should be able to squat 200 lbs, right? So why couldn't he he break past 175?
But the real worry was the amount of weight loss he'd gone through. Despite eating WAY over his resting metabolism, he'd somehow managed to LOSE 10 lbs. How is that even possible!? He had looked online and seen some freaky stuff - tapeworms and drugs that make people burn crazy amounts of calories. Could something like that have happened to him...?
No way... that had to be paranoia. He would just go talk to his PT. He must have run into this problem before.
The man was benching iron by himself after practice. He had been expecting to have the gym to himself. With a loud grunt, he heaved the weight into the rack.
Jordan had never seen so much weight loaded onto a bar in real life. The bar was visibly bending under the pressure. He did a quick bit of mental arithmetic on the plates stacked on the bar - that was, what... 350 lbs total?
"What's the big idea, kid?"
"S... sorry coach," Jordan mumbled. Coach's former linebacker physique was pumped and intimidating.
"Listen, can we talk about the varsity team..."
"Oh yeah, how's that going? I heard from your teammates that you're a changed man. Your performance has improved lately as well."
"Coach, I know you're not going to believe this. I tried, I really did. But I haven't been able to lose the weight you wanted me to."
"Huh?" Coach was confused. "How is that possible? You're, like... the most cut guy on the team right now." It was true. Jason was noticeably more vascular, with a more defined 6-pack, than anyone on his team. (And, truthfully, most of the varsity team as well.)
"I don't know what to tell you, man. I've cut so much food I feel like crap all day. I get dizzy every time I work out. I think something might be medically wrong with me."
Coach frowned and crossed his thick, hairy arms. "Geez, ok. Look, let me book an appointment with a doctor and we'll get you checked out. Until then, stop going to gym and I'm going to pull you from the team."
Jordan looked devastated. "Sorry buddy, I have a duty to take care of you. It won't be a long break. Who knows, the extra recovery might be good for you."
The jock sighed in frustration. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. But Coach was right, and he knew it...
John's trainer got him a bunch of bloodwork done and a physical at the campus medical centre. The physical confirmed what John had thought - the young man had anomalously low body weight, not dangerous exactly, but lower than would expected of a normal man his age, especially given his physical regimen and diet plan.
The working hypothesis was that John had an eating disorder. His vomitting incident was evidence that his body had started rejecting food. The most likely explanation was psychological.
John was admittedly confused by this. If anything, psychologically he felt the opposite. He was actively trying to get huge! But the doctor said that the brain worked in mysterious ways...
So, John waited to hear back from the clinic. Sometimes, he felt despondent. The doctor said that if it was an eating disorder he might have to be hospitalised and fed intravenously. But for now, they were waiting for some bloodwork to rule out some more obscure alternative diagnoses.
In the mean time, John kept working out and eating as much as he could force himself too. He was sitting at 162 lbs, down from 175 at the start. He still looked healthy - he even had vascular forearms for the first time in his life. But he did feel noticeably lethargic and weak. Every time he finished a gym session, he was so exhuasted he had to crash onto his bed as soon as he got home. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep lifting weights like this.
Jordan was the most restless he'd ever been in his life. He had been training weights since he was 15 and taking a break was driving him crazy. Usually he enjoyed taking time off, but then normally he had hobbies to distract him like skiing or surfing. But Coach had forbidden it.
He had way more energy now that he was eating a normal diet. But he couldn't spend it doing stuff he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time alone in the house. He found he had a lot of sexual energy, so he hooked up with a few girls from around campus - some friends of friends, some tinder matches - but it didn't satisfy him for long and it was a lot of effort, so more and more he found himself jerking off by himself.
Of course, to start with, his masturbation was fuelled by porn. But as the days passed, watching women's bodies wasn't doing it for him any more. And men's bodies didn't exactly do it for him, either.
There was really only one body that turned him on, and it was his own.
There was no question that Jordan had the best natural body on campus. By this point, he was 250 lbs of 19 year-old beef.
His 48" pecs jutted out over his killer 6-pack. He had a perfect adonis belt and thick arms. Naturally hairless except the wispy growths in the pits beneath his wide shoulders. His 34" waist gave him perfect proportions.
He could easily give up football and do bodybuilding instead. Fuck, he knew some guys on juice who were competing, and he was already bigger than they were.
Jordan spent many evenings in his room practicing flexing his muscles. It was honestly bothering him slightly. Until recently, he would get laid regularly, and masturbate every once in a while as a backup. Now, it was reversed - he found admiring himself to be a lot more satisfying than having sex with women. They just didn't excite him like his own physique did.
After about 3 weeks, Jordan and John both got a phone call telling them to come to the medical campus immediately. When they arrived, a pair of hospital staff escorted them deep into the facility. Along the way, John noticed a bunch of biohazard warnings.
The two of them sat in a waiting room for 10 minutes. John was in awe of the muscular stud in front of him. He looked like a wet dream made into flesh. He was wearing shorts, trainers and a tank top, that left very little to the imagination.
Jordan didn't really pay much attention to the small, unimposing Jordan. He thought that he looked kind of gay. "Twinks", Jordan thought to himself, "that's the skinny gay thing, right?"
Eventually, they were called into a doctor's office. An athletic, middle-aged man greeted them. He had quite a serious expression, and spoke solemnly to the two students in an Eastern-European accent.
"Boys, you can call me Doctor Ben. You've been called here because you both had bloodwork done, and the results were quite unambiguous. I'm afraid to tell you that you've both been infected by a virus. Unfortunately, it's an extremely rare disease for which there is no known cure. It seems to exclusively target men, preferentially young men.
"The good news is that we believe it is not life-threatening. Typically, the infection lasts 2-4 months before leaving your system. You will need to be quarantined until the infection runs its course. Unfortunately, it will not be possible to continue your studies - you will have to repeat this year's education.
"The virus is known as 'adonivirus', a reference to the Greek god Adonis, although the name can be misleading. The virus takes over cells primarily in adipose and muscular tissue, although it has a preference for muscle tissue. How the course of infection progresses varies depending on the immune response.
"The body naturally tries to fight the infection by 'eating' its own fat and muscle tissue. The body no longer needs as much energy from food, and it will reject food if you try to overeat. Eventually, the body wastes away to the point that the virus can't sustain itself, and it dies out. The body will slowly recover, but the enhanced metabolism can persist for many years. Although it sounds bad, the long term survival prognosis is quite good, and people who survive the initial infection are typically able to maintain a healthy body weight.
"However, for some people, the virus operates very differently. If your body lacks the right genes for fighting the infection, the virus can grow unchecked.
"The virus starts by infecting the muscle and adipose tissue. Once there is no tissue left to infect, it begins to compromise the entire endocrine system - that's the body's hormone system. The goal is to maximise the body's ability to gain muscle mass. In extreme cases, the virus has been known to have other side effects as well, that appear to enhance the body's ability to grow beyond its natural limits.
"Eventually, the virus population grows out of control and burns itself out. We still aren't sure how this happens. Unlike the immune system response, the changes that the virus makes are permanent.
"In the past, doctors have tried to limit the effects of the virus, for example by artificially restoring the hormone balance in patients. However, this approach backfired - the virus simply redoubles its efforts, resulting in even more severe body changes. So, the best practice is to try the opposite approach, and 'cooperate' with the virus until it burns itself out, through weight training.
"In both cases, you will need specialist nutrition and exercise plans. Because this disease is so rare, only a handful of medical practictioners around the world are able to treat it. I am the most senior expert on the virus in the world, and the government has asked me to treat you. Until I give the all-clear, you are legally forbidden from leaving this facility.
"I have been studying this virus for 15 years, and I was flown here specifically to prepare this facility for you. The truth is, we have never had two cases this early in the disease lifecycle. If we are better able to understand this disease, it could be life-changing for millions of people. Not only other people who become infected, but if we are able to reverse-engineer the mechanisms that the virus uses, we could revolutionise the way that we treat obesity and frailty around the world.
"For this reason, we would like to recruit you into a research study on the effects of the virus. If you agree, as an added incentive, we will waive your tuition loan and give each of you a $150,000 one-off payment. I want you to know that we are completely serious about this opportunity.
"We will need to do regular checks on your blood and vital organs, and occasional body scans. But our interventions will be purely observational. We don't intend to deviate from existing treatment best practices.
"Anyway, you don't have to decide right away. We can talk about this more tomorrow morning. I have prepared the paperwork for you to review in your sleeping quarters. Unfortunately, I only had time to properly quarantine a single bedroom. So, until I am able to prepare a second room, you will have to share. I must remind you that, although participation in this study is voluntary, your quarantine is not.
"I'm sorry boys, this must be a lot to take in... if you have any questions, I would be happy to talk you through them..."
John's head was spinning when he was dropped off in his room. The concrete walls were painted a clinical white, except for one wall of mirrors. There was a lot of space, two hospital beds and a couple of desks, as well as two wardrobes.
Apparently John had been processed faster than Jordan, because the jock wasn't there yet.
Next to each bed were some stacks of cardboard boxes. John opened one and found it contained a bunch of his clothing and possessions.
There was a note attached to it. "John," it said. On the back, it said "Unfortunately, you won't be able to take any of this back with you after you leave. It will need to be destroyed. We will pay to replace them. Sorry. - Dr. Ben"
None of this felt real to John. He dug through his stuff until he found his laptop. It worked fine, and the room had campus WiFi. He tried to call his parents, but they wouldn't pick up. He left them a message asking them to call right away.
John was exhausted - not just from the events of the day, he was also generally fatigued, these days. Eventually, he passed out in bed, unable to keep his eyes open, waiting for Jordan to get in.
Dr. Ben had run a full suite of physical exams for Jordan, almost as much as Coach had run when Jordan had first signed up to football. It was the first exercise Jordan had done in weeks, but he crushed it. He didn't get out until after midnight, but when he got into his room, he was still pumped with energy.
His roommate looked like he was fast asleep when he got in. Jordan peeled off his sweaty atheltic gear and chucked it on the ground, trying not to wake him. The lights had been dimmed, but he could make out a whole wall of mirrors.
Sweet, he thought. This place was even better than his old room!
Chucking off his trainers and socks, the teen whipped out his semi-hard, 8-inch cock. Nothing to quickly burn through some energy than a quick flex and jerk-off, right?
Jordan had always been pleased with his above-average endowment, it rounded off his physique perfectly. He wondered if the little twink had woken up and was watching, and it make his dick twitch.
He put on a show for the mirror. Starting with a double bicep pose, his 20" arms bulging, his pits slightly damp from exertion, his large cock jutting out from his 34" waist.
Then he followed it up with a most muscular. He could swear he looked bigger than last time. The realisation went straight to his cock.
The huge mirror made his physique look even more awesome. As he bounced his pecs, his dick jumped to the rythm. "God, I hope the little runt is awake," he though to himself. "Oh, jesus. I'm so powerful. God damn..."
After a few minutes of this, his cock erupted hands-free, all over the floor, making a faint, sloppy slap with each jet. Jordan hadn't thought about how to handle it. So as he came down from his post-orgasm high, he grabbed his used underwear and wiped it up as best he could. Although, there was a lot to get through.
Jordan collapsed on his bed, naked, on top of the covers, his cock still half-hard - it was never fully satisfied these days - and thought to himself about everything. He was gonna have to break it to his parents that he wouldn't make varsity this year. Would he even be allowed to play sports now? Geez, what was he going to do with his life?
After a few minutes, though, the post-orgasm high faded and Jordan faded into a comfortable night's sleep.