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bbmikenj

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bbmikenj last won the day on July 11 2014

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About bbmikenj

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    Muscle, bodybuilding, power, size, strength
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    5'8, 200lbs solid
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    5'8, 240
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  1. Thanks for the feedback, guys. And I think that's a great visual for what Dwayne would look like, xm.
  2. When Danny moved into his dorm room, Jack had already been there for a couple days. Jack wasn't there when he arrived, so Danny did a little reorganizing. It didn't take him long. He moved the two twin beds together and made them one. Then he scooped all of Jack's clothes out of the closet and tossed them into a heap on the floor. He hung up the clothes he had brought, which were 3 stringer tanks and two pair of sweatpants. He put his UA briefs and a couple of posers into a drawer. He was done by the time Jack showed up. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Jack said, annoyed. "Hey, Roomie," said Danny with a big grin on his face. "You're not my....where's Tip?" Dwayne's sister had made good on her promise to switch Tip to another dorm without either of the jock buddies knowing about it. "Tip decided to move on," said Danny. He was shirtless, and his massive frame filled the small dorm room, making him look even bigger. "You're rooming with me now." He flexed his huge arm in the wall mirror that was next to the closet. Jack was stunned as Danny's peak rose up and up. "24+ inches," said Danny, squeezing his arm harder. "Looks bigger than your quad, little man." Jack gulped hard, seeing that huge arm. No wonder Danny could pile drive him all over the wrestling mats. "What are all my clothes doing on the floor?" asked Jack. "I need the whole closet," said Danny, as he continued to watch himself flex in the mirror. "You've only got a couple things in there!" cried Jack. "They need space to air out," Danny said, rolling his fists and watching his 18" forearms bunch up with ropey muscle. Despite his straightness, Jack started to chub up in his pants at the sight of his roommate's brute size. "Why are the beds pushed together??" asked Jack. "Dude, you think I'm gonna fit on one twin bed? Look at me. I need them both." Danny hit a latspread, and his wings flared out wider than the two beds together. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" "That's not my problem. Anyway, there's a nice pile of clothes in the corner, sleep on that." Danny heaved out his 68" chest, then leaned toward the mirror, and ran his fingers along the striations in his pecs. "Damn it," said Jack, pulling out his phone. In a flash, Danny grabbed Jack's wrist with his left hand and squeezed. Jack's knees almost buckled as he dropped the phone. Danny snagged the falling phone with his right hand, then he shoved it into the deep muscle crevice between his big pecs. The phone nearly disappeared into his cleavage. And when Danny flexed his chest, the phone did disappear into it. Then there was a muffled crunching sound as Jack's phone crumpled from the hard muscle compressing it together. Danny pulled the broken phone from between his mounded pectoral muscles and tossed it across the room. "What are you doing this for, man?" asked Jack, his heart pounding hard, both from fear and from awe. Danny walked into Jack, pushing him back to the wall. He grabbed Jack in a one-handed choke hold, and slid him up the wall until the were eye to eye. Danny leaned into Jack's face until their noses were an inch apart. "Funny," he said, "I used to ask you the same thing." When Danny saw the puzzled look on Jack's face, he said, "You don't remember me?" He leaned in closer, their noses nearly touching. Jack shook his head No. "Danny the Dork doesn't ring a bell for ya?" Jack stared hard into Danny's eyes. He choked out "Dude...no way. That kid was a fat butterball....." But then Jack realized, the face did seem familiar. The jaw had squared off and bulged with muscle. The brow was more pronounced. It sat atop a 24" column of neck muscle. But still. "Dude, no fucking way. How?" "I started lifting," Danny said simply. "You like the look, Jackie? I got 200lbs plus on you now, all of it muscle." "I'm not into it, man," gurgled Jack, starting to squirm. "Oh yeah?" Danny pressed his 8pak abs into Jack's hardon and pinning him more firmly to the wall. "I'm feeling something that says different." "You're choking me, dude," said Jack, trying to change the subject. But he couldn't help bucking against Danny's thick ab wall. The firmness of it felt so good. Danny pushed against him harder. "Dude, I could snap your neck like pretzel stick," said Danny. This made Jack even harder. "I did it 'cause I liked you," choked out Jack. This made Danny let go of his throat hold. Jack stayed pinned against the wall by Danny's chest and abs. "What?" asked Danny. "I liked you, man. I couldn't hang out with you because, you know how it is. So I just teased you a little, that's all." "You call pissing in my shampoo and telling everyone about it is 'teasing'?" said Danny, darkly. He pressed Jack harder into the cinder block wall. "What?" Jack struggled to think. "Oh man, that wasn't me. That was Tip. He just told everyone I did it. He was always doing shit like that. I liked you. I always felt bad for you when you got picked last for every team in gym class. It was either you or that other kid, what was his name?" "Dwayne." "Yeh, him. I picked on you to make you tougher, 'cause that's what my dad always did to me, told me it'd make me a better man. And look how it worked, Danny. I'm a state champ wrestler, I haven't lost a match since freshman year. And now you're a massive muscle beast. Look at the size of you." And with that, Jack put his hands on Danny's bullneck and started groping it. "God man, the strength in your neck alone. Fuck. I bet I can't even choke you." Jack wrapped his hands around Danny's neck and pressed into it with his thumbs. They didn't dent into the muscle at all. "Geezus, man," said Jack. "I got a real strong grip, but it's like I'm pushing on marble." Danny swelled with pride, and his dick swelled too, as Jack tried to choke him harder, with no effect. Danny flexed his neck, and felt Jack's fingers being pushed apart. Farther and farther apart as his neck swelled and his traps rose up and merged with it like an ox yoke. "Dude, your power...." Jack was getting harder too. He leaned into Danny's face and kissed him. Danny was taken aback, but he kissed back. The two of them kissed hard and long. Jack's precum made his dick slide up and down Danny's hard abs more and more smoothly. He groaned as he felt how muscular Danny's tongue was as they French kissed deeper and deeper. When Jack finally broke the kiss, he put his hands on Danny's soccer ball sized delts and said, "Man, make me your bitch. I never done it with a dude before, but I want you to breed me with your size and power. I want it in me." "I hated your guts for so long," said Danny. "No you didn't," said Jack. "You wanted me, just like everybody else. Look at me, man, I'm perfect. And look at you now, you're beyond perfect. You're a fucking god, dude. You got muscle on your muscles. You make me look scrawny." Jack started groping Danny's lats. "Oh man, you're a god..." Danny's heart was beating so hard that it made his gums throb. Holding Jack like this, so close, he realized that the cocky jock was right. He had always wanted him. He lusted for him as much as he hated him. And now he had him in his arms. The emotions were so confusing, but he was so turned on he could barely control himself. He had to fuck something, why not this perfect physical specimen that he could flop around like a rag doll? "Yeah?" said Danny. "You want me to pop your cherry, Jackie?" Jack almost came. "Yeh, man. All my life, I've been the one in control, the alpha. Take that from me, man. Own me. Bruise me up like you did at practice, only deeper." Danny picked Jack up, spun him around, and bent him over on the desktop. He pulled Jack's shorts down around his ankles. Then he pulled off his own shorts, then his jockstrap. His dick popped out, bigger and thicker than Jack's by about half again, his big veins pulsing as they pumped him full staff. He wasn't sure he bought Jack's whole story, but it didn't matter. He was going to fuck him with the full power of his huge glutes and thick tree trunk quads. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up with it. His dick was so sensitive now, he could stroked himself all day. But instead, he scooped up his precum and slathered Jack's hot bubble butt with it. Then he popped his big helmet into the wrestling jock's tight hole. "Fuckkk," both of them groaned out at the same time. Danny sank in deeper. And deeper. Down to the root. Then he started bucking rhythmically, grunting with each buck. Jacked gripped onto the desk, which banged into the doorframe over and over again, harder and harder, until finally, the frame of the door cracked when one of Danny's powerful thrusts smashed the desk into it. Danny lifted Jack off the desk and started air fucking him, his huge powerful arms pumping Jack's 200lbs body up and down on his dick. Up and down he went, while Danny's 415lbs of rock hard beef powerfucked his hard jock ass. The temperature in the small dorm room had soared from their body heat, and sweat poured off both of them, dripping onto the floor. Danny slammed Jack back down on the desk to finish inside of him. He pinned him down with one big hand in the middle of Jack's back. Jack had never felt such complete pleasure. Such total lack of control. Such freedom. Being bred like a bitch, and he loved it. "Danny. Danny. Danny," he said, over and over, as Danny rammed past his prostate again and again, his sweat dripping off his chin and his pecs, all over Jack's back. "Godddam you mutherfucking hot little sonofabitch........" Danny roared as he came deep inside Jack. "Aww geeezus fuckk Danny," moaned Jack, as he busted all over the desk from the feeling of pressure from Danny's big club inside him, and the hot muscle batter filling him up. They stayed the way they were for awhile, both breathing deep and heavy. Danny finally slid out of Jack, and even that feeling almost overwhelmed Jack with pleasure. He stayed on the desktop while Danny picked up one of Jack's shirts from the pile of clothes and wiped his dick off with it. He tossed the shirt aside, then picked up one of Jack's tee shirts and wiped his own sweat off with it. Then he used the tee to wipe off Jack's back. Then he lifted Jack up in his arms like a babe, and laid him on the clothes. "Looks like it's going to be a fun semester," said Danny, flexing his 24+ biceps, fresh sweat rolling down his thick lats as he stood over Jack. "You're telling me," sighed Jack, sinking into his pile of clothes. -- . . -- -- . . -- Meanwhile, back at home, Dwayne was warming up for his fight night by jogging thru the park. He didn't have on his weighted vest, so he felt like he could almost take off and fly, he was feeling so strong. It was going to be Dwayne's first fight, but his gym manager had lined him up with a guy who was 11-0. "If you beat this guy," the manager told him, "you're on your way." Dwayne laughed and said, "Oh, I'm on my way already." As he jogged out of the park and onto the street, he noticed a guy on a bike headed in his direction, riding on the wrong side of the road. Dwayne realized in a second that it was Tip, his former tormentor. "I guess he didn't get his car fixed yet," Dwayne chuckled to himself. He couldn't believe he was running into him again. Dwayne purposefully headed right towards him. When Tip looked up and saw the shirtless Dwayne coming at him, he started to wobble wildly on his bike. He veered up and over the curb, and ran right into a telephone pole, falling off the bike onto the sidewalk. Dwayne sauntered over to him. "You should be more careful, dude," said Dwayne. "And you should wear your helmet tighter. Look, it fell right off." Dwayne leaned over and picked up the bike helmet. "Leave me alone," said Tip, rubbing his scuffed up knee. "Funny, I remember saying that to you a bunch of times in high school," said Dwayne, rolling the helmet around in his hands. "You never listened. And now, your helmet is all busted up." Tip looked at the helmet, and said, "No it isn't, it's barely scratched." "Look a little closer," said Dwayne. He leaned over and put the helmet in Tip's face. Then he snapped it in two with his bare hands. "How about that? Where'd you get this cheap thing?" he said, tossing the broken pieces aside. "Fuck," said Tip. "And your bike...Man, it's completely mangled." "No it isn't," said Tip. "The front tire's just a little bent. I could probably still ride it." "You're not looking close enough," said Dwayne. He picked the bike up, and every muscle on his rippling torso tightened up as he bent the frame in two. "See," he said, "the tires are touching each other. Let me try and fix it." He bent the bike frame back and forth a couple of times, until it snapped apart in his hands. "I hope you didn't pay much for this cheap thing." "Fuck man, I paid $800 dollars for that just last week. Fuck. You gotta pay me back." "Oh, I'm paying you back alright." Dwayne looked Tip over. "You didn't break any bones in your fall, did ya? 'Cause I'm seeing some broken bones." Dwayne leaned over and grabbed Tip's upper arm with his left hand. He lifted Tip up off the sidewalk like a marionette. Then he dug his fingers into Tip's arm muscle. Tip yelled out in pain. "Yeah, this bone might be broken, man, this shouldn't hurt so much when I squeeze it." He yanked Tip's arm back and forth. Then he pulled Tip in close. "Maybe you're right, the bone's not broken. But you're gonna have some real deep tissue bruising on this arm, bro. Look at the veins on my forearm, popping out all over, feeding my muscle with crushing strength. You feeling it, Tippy?" "Yes, yes. God, stop man!" Dwayne let go of Tip's arm. Tip back away quickly, holding his arm, and leaned against the telephone pole. He looked over at the street. "Don't try it," said Dwayne. "Try what?" "Running into the street to get away. First of all, you'd probably get hit by a car. Secondly, I'd snag you in under a second, because I'm 5 times faster than you now." "How'd you know...." "Cause I'm reading your mind, Tippy. And it's scary in there. All full of cobwebs, slowing down your synapses. Nothing much going on except simple vapid thoughts." Tip was starting to get panicky. He thought about his father's gun. "You can try and shoot me, dude, but it won't work," said Dwayne. "This muscle is bulletproof." Dwayne rubbed his hand down his hard muscled torso. "I'd just pick up the bullet and crush it flat between my thumb and index finger." He picked up a stone from the sidewalk, held it in front of Tip's nose, and cracked it with his two fingers. Then he ground it together between his fingertips until it crumbled into grit. Tip flinched back. Dwayne almost wondered if he really might be bulletproof. "Don't worry, dude, I won't hurt you. Although I could. Look at my arm," said Dwayne, bringing up his right arm and flexing it. The biceps peaked up high and hard, with a muscle density that Tip had never witnessed before. "Now watch this," said Dwayne. He stared at his peak, and willed it to grow. He smiled as the top of his arm rose up another half inch, another peak on his already high peak. "Aw yeah," he growled in satisfaction. "And look at the abs, Tippy. They look like they're flexed, don't they?" Tip nodded his head up and down weakly. "Well, they're not." With that, Dwayne clenched down on his abs, and his 8pak exploded with striations, into what he called his 32pak. Tip slid halfway down the telephone pole, stunned, his face even with Dwayne's wall of shred. "That's a sight to behold, isn't it, boy?" Dwayne said, looking down at the deflated bully. Then Dwayne had a thought. He remembered how Mr K went down on his knees after Dwayne wished for it. He wasn't sure at the time if it was just coincidence, that Mr K wanted to crawl over to him on his knees to pleasure him, or if Dwayne had influenced him with his mind. He'd been studying some hypnosis, and they said you couldn't make anyone do something that they didn't want to do, but he wondered. So without saying a word, he stared at Tip, and he thought to himself, "Hit yourself, Tip." And he watched as Tip slowly made a fist with his right hand, then punched himself in the face. "Whoa," said Dwayne. Then, he thought to himself, "Hit yourself harder." And Tip punched himself in the nose, this time harder, and it knocked his head back into the pole. A small tickle of blood came out of his nose. "Holy shit," thought Dwayne. He felt his dick thicken in his shorts. He wondered if he ordered Tip to blow him right here on the sidewalk, if he would do it. But he had no interest in that. He sensed that Tip was an easy mark, not worth much of his effort. Instead, he reached up on the telephone pole behind tip, and grabbed onto the lowest climbing rung. It was rusty with age, but still sturdy. Dwayne bent it back and forth with his hand, until it snapped off. "fuckkk," said Tip, not quite believing his eyes. Dwayne looked at him and thought, "hold out your arm," and Tip's arm went up toward him. Dwayne took the thick rung in both hands, then bent it around Tip's wrist until the ends crossed. "There's a little bracelet for you to remember me by, pinhead," said Dwayne, as he tightened the iron rung around Tip's wrist. "Don't try and take it off though, because if I ever see you without it, my feelings will be real hurt. I might think you're breaking up with me, and I wouldn't like that." The defeated look on Tip's face made Dwayne feel bad for him. Poor dimwitted jock never thought anyone would get the best of him. Payback can be a bitch. "Why don't you get going now, dude, before I use your bike frame to decorate you some more." Dwayne picked up the busted frame and handed it to Tip. "I have a fight to get ready for," said Dwayne. The befuddled Tip watched the powerfully muscled former nerd jog away down the street. He couldn't believe he was ever able to pick on him. He wondered who would be stupid enough to step into the ring against such a freak.
  3. Since his dad had the day off, Danny borrowed his Range Rover to drive up to college for his first wrestling practice. "Dad, I'm taking the Rover," Danny said as he grabbed the keys on his way out to the garage. "What?" said his dad. "But I'm going to need it later." "You can use my old Honda. I'm too big for it now." "Danny, put those keys back," said his dad, although his voice did not have the authority in it that it used to. Danny stopped in the doorway, but he didn't turn back. He was wearing his singlet with a pair of sweatpants. He'd had to special order a size 5XL singlet, and even at that, it was a little snug. His backspread was broader than Craig Golias's. "Tell ya what, Pops," he said. "I'll arm wrestle you for them." They both knew it would take at least 6 men his dad's size to win that contest. "Never mind, take it. But just this once," said his dad, diplomatically. "Ok, if you insist, "said Danny on his way out. "You should probably upgrade to a Hummer soon, cause even your car is a tight fit for me now." Danny took off out of the driveway, and headed to school. A trucker almost drove off the highway when he saw Danny's arm hanging out the window of the car. Especially when Danny flexed it at him. "You'd think he'd never seen a 24" peak before," Danny said to himself. When he got to the gymnasium, some of the wrestling squad was already there. As he walked in, he heard murmurings like "holy shit," "Jesus" "look at the size of that guy". Danny chuckled to himself. This was going to be so much different than when he'd gone out for wrestling in high school when he was a soft chubby kid. Even the head coach was taken aback, because the last time he'd seen Danny he was in civilian clothes, not a singlet, which tended to show off every inch of his mass. Plus the fact that Danny had gained 30lbs of muscle since they'd first met. His shoulders were half again wider than the next biggest heavyweight guy on the squad. As Danny sauntered over to the other wrestlers, the coach thought to himself 'If we don't win state this year, I'm never going to.' He started pairing the guys off into sparring partners. Danny was the only one left, when Jack walked into the gym. "You're late, Dick. I mean Jack," said the coach. He'd told his wife just last night that he got at least one every year, a kid that he would nickname 'Dick Head'. They were always the cockiest jocks, who took their athletic abilities for granted, because they'd been blessed with them since they were in grade school. Guys he liked to take down a peg or two. This year, he had a good chance with Jack. "Meet your training partner, Jack. This is Danny." Jack looked over at Danny, and took a step back. "What? Coach, this guy is way outta my weight class." "Yeah, I can see that. But you were late, and he's the only guy that's not paired up yet, so there ya go. Maybe he'll get you to work a little harder." Hopefully, he'll knock the cocky out of you, thought the coach. "Now, stretch out for a little bit, then let's do some skill drills, guys." As the practice went on, things didn't go well for Jack. Danny mopped the mats with him. What little Danny remembered from his short stint in high school wrestling came back to him quickly. And every move Jack tried on him, he powered out of easily, then used the move on Jack, to great effect. A half hour into it, and Jack was gasping from breath. He'd been flopped all over the gym floor. Flipped and flopped, like a sack of flour. Except for a slight shimmer of sweat shining on his body, Danny was fresh as a daisy. He started putting Jack in holds, then flexing as he held him pinned in place. The coach noticed the showboating, and would normally call a wrestler out for it, but he was enjoying this. Whenever he got a chance, Danny would dig his big knee into a vulnerable part of Jack's body, like his lower back, his ankles, his elbows. Danny could see why Dwayne liked fighting. As he pinned Jack to the floor face down, with his elbow pressing hard into Jack's scapula, Danny leaned into his former bully's ear and said, "Try and move, ant." All Jack could do was grunt a muffled 'fuckkk'. It made Danny's groin throb with pleasure. He picked Jack up, threw him over his shoulders, and started doing lunges the full length of the gym. Back and forth, back and forth, till his quads where burning and bloated full. Then he tossed Jack back to the mats, and starting working him over again. After an hour of abuse, the coach called for a break, and Jack had to crawl to the edge of the mats to recover. Most of the guys on the team had been watching Danny manhandle the state champ like a ragdoll. During the break, they asked him questions about his training and diet. Danny flexed as he answered them. More than one of the guys boned up in their shorts watching their massive teammate show off his size, especially when he pulled the straps of his singlet off his huge shoulders and rolled it down just past his waistband of his jock strap. There was a gasp when he pulled his sweats down to his ankles, exposing his tree trunk quads. His muscular development was far beyond anything they'd ever seen. He let them feel his muscles, and even though they were all in great shape, none of them had ever felt muscle this hard. Even the coach couldn't hide his hardon. "Ok, guys, let's call it a day. Go hit the showers. Danny, let me talk to you for a second," said the coach. Danny pulled up his sweats and came over to him, and the pheromones coming off his big muscle made Coach's hardon pulse with his increased heartbeat. "I like what you were doing today, Danny," as he realized that even Danny's hands were twice the size and thickness of Jack's, " but try not to break him into pieces. I'm still counting on him to win a state title in his weight class." "Ok, Coach," Danny said, clenching his big fists until he heard the knuckles crackling. He felt like fighting five Jacks at once. But then Jack came limping over toward them, keeping his distance from his huge wrestling partner. "Coach," said Jack, "you make me practice with him again, I'm quitting the team." His skin was all ruddy and welted from Danny's holds on him. "Shut up," snapped the coach. "You'll lose your scholarship if you do that, cause I know you're not here based on your academics. Stop being a pussy, and go hit the showers before I have Danny bounce you around the gym like a basketball. " Coach gave Danny a wink, and as Jack hobbled away, grumbling, Danny flinched at him. Jack flinched away in fear, and scurried to the lockers. Danny and the coach laughed. _ . _ Meanwhile, back at Danny's house, Dwayne knocked at the side door. When Danny's dad answered the door, Dwayne said, "Hey, Mr K, how you doing?" Danny's dad stepped back a little and looked Dwayne up and down. "Who are you?" he asked, not recognizing Danny's long time friend, who, the last time he saw him, was 5'6" and about 120lbs soaking wet. The guy at the door was a good 5'11, 200lbs of strapping, zero body fat, muscle. "Mr K, it's me, Dwayne," he said, muscling his way past Mr K and into the kitchen. He was wearing a sweat-soaked UA shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin, showing every rippling muscle. He gave off a thick scent of sweat and pheromones that filled the kitchen. He strutted over to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of water, and guzzled it down. "Help yourself," said the older man. "Thanks, Mr K," said Dwayne, ignoring the sarcasm. Then he walked from the kitchen into the family room. Mr K could see, right thru Dwayne's nylon running shorts, how perfectly rounded his glutes were, as they rolled with every step he took. And he could see the extreme V-taper of back. If Mr K hadn't seen his own son's transformation in the last month or so, he would never believe that this was the same nerdy kid that used to hang out around the house. "It's kinda hot in here. Mind if I take off my shirt?" said Dwayne, stripping his shirt over his head without waiting for an answer. He balled up his wet tee and tossed it on the couch. He stretched out his torso, raising his arms over his head. Glistening muscle rippled out all over him. He wore a thick chain around his neck with a Superman "S" medallion hanging from it. "I just came from a CrossFit competition. I heard about it on the radio, so I signed up as a walk-on. I won every heat. Crushed it. Didn't even know what half the events were, but the guys there were real friendly about showing me. The chicks too. Most of them seemed to know each other, and they were all real interested in getting to know me, find out where I trained, what my routine was. You shoulda seen their faces when I told them I'd never done any of it before. Funny how those jock types never seemed to notice me before, except to mess with me. Now they notice me though. You okay, Mr K? You look a little pale." Danny's dad was in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He was in awe. He noticed how perfect Dwayne's teeth were, straight, white, sparkling. But weren't Dwayne's teeth crooked and sort of yellowish? Suddenly, Dwayne grinned, and ran his tongue across his dazzling pearly white teeth. "Dwayne, are you... reading my mind?" "Not really, I'm just reading your expression. I saw you looking at my teeth, and I know you were thinking 'didn't he have shitty teeth before?' And 'wasn't he a skinny weakling who I used to enjoy intimidating when he came over to visit my son, even though I'm the adult and should know better?' So I guess you could say I'm sort of reading your mind." Then he flexed his rock hard pecs at him. Mr K had to admit it was true, he had thought those things of Dwayne. Mr K had been very athletic, and even now, had a hard time not feely disdain for men or boys who were not. He'd felt that way about his own son, as hard as he tried not to. "Check out my abs," said Dwayne, changing the subject, and clenching his 8pack that was stone slab flat. "They're a little tighter than yours now, Mr K. Watch this," he said, and flexed his gut muscles. Each brick in his 8pack clenched and squared off into 4 striated blocks. "Looks like I got a 32pack, don't it?" he said, strumming his fingers up and down the muscle. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "looks like bullets would bounce off them. And maybe they would. " He pinched some ab skin and tugged on it, and it pulled up like tightly wrapped cellophane. When he let go, the skin snapped back into place. "I have a fight tonight, Mr K. You should come watch." "A fight?" said Mr K, barely able to form words as he stared at Dwayne's densely packed muscularity. "What kind of fight?" "An MMA fight. My first official one." Dwayne plopped down in Mr K's favorite leather lounge chair. "Fuck, I'm horny," he said, adjusting himself in his sweats. "You ever feel so horny that you could pick up a piece of furniture and fuck it?" "Maybe," said Mr K. He couldn't believe how handsome Dwayne had become. He looked like a heavily muscled, Russian Zac Ephron. His eyes were so clear and sparkling blue. And didn't he used to wear thick nerdy glasses? "I used to, yeah. My eyesight has improved," said Dwayne, casually. "My eye doc says I've got 20/5 vision now. Like an eagle." "You are reading my mind!" said Mr K. "Again, not really. Just saw you looking at my eyes. Why don't you come in for a closer look?" And Mr K felt himself being drawn toward Dwayne, aching to be closer. to catch his scent, to feel the heat coming off him. "Why don't you get on your knees, Mr K?" And Mr K felt his knees almost buckle underneath him as he went down to the floor. "Come over here and put your hands on my legs," said Dwayne. His voice had become deep and sexy, like a hot male porn star, with a drawl of extreme confidence. Dwayne reached into his sweats and pulled out his big dick. It plopped out, half-engorged and swelling fast. His musky scent hit Mr K like a drug. "Feed off me," said Dwayne. "I bet my muscle batter will help get rid of your dad paunch." Mr K was taken aback. He didn't have a dad bod! Yet, he knew he did. He just hoped he was fooling people by sucking his paunch in as much as he could. "You're not fooling anyone. Now feed off me," said Dwayne. And Mr K went down on him, aching for that big perfectly shaped cockhead more than anything he'd ever wanted. Dwayne grabbed him by his ears and guided him for awhile. He wondered if he should tell Mr K that he was sucking the same big cock that had been up Danny's ass the night before, but he decided not to. Instead, he let go of his ears, and grabbed onto the arms of the lounge chair, arching and bucking into Mr K's face. His cockhead had become vastly more sensitive to touch, and the pleasure of being serviced by an eager mouth made every powerful muscle in his body tense up. The sensation was transcendent. He arched his head back on the chair, his powerful neck bulging out wide. His strong, veiny hands pushed on the arms of the chair until the wooden frame snapped underneath the leather with a muffled Crack. Dwayne's precum was flowing freely out of his big helmet head, lubing up Mr K's throat, and it didn't take long before Dwayne was spewing out a huge load of hot cream, flooding Mr K with his muscle batter. "Awwww, yehh," growled Dwayne, as he spewed and spewed, rope after rope of thick paste. Mr K did his best to drain every drop of it. "Nice," said Dwayne, pulling Mr K's head off his hardon. "We'll have to do this again, soon," he said, stuffing his still hard python into his shorts. "I gotta get going for my fight. Sorry about your chair, Mr K. I'll pay for it with the money I'm gonna win tonight." He grabbed his shirt, balling it up into one hand. As he walked thru the kitchen, Dwayne looked around and said, "You know, if you ever want to remodel in here, let me know. I'd love to rip out these granite countertops." He put his fingers on the edge of the granite and lifted up. There was a loud crunching sound as the countertop lifted upward about an inch. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "these are loose. Time for an upgrade, Mr K." Then he left. Mr K watched from the kitchen door as Dwayne jogged down the driveway and up the street. He put his hand on his paunch, and thought it already felt flatter and harder. It couldn't be though, could it?
  4. Danny continued to grow. His trainer Ivan had been right. Despite the fact that he hadn't lifted any weights in the two weeks that Ivan had been in Europe, Danny had beefed up to 325lbs of solid muscle. When Ivan got back from his trip to Poland and Russia, he was duly impressed by his young client's gains. "You sure you weren't working out with another trainer while I was gone," Ivan teased Danny. "Nope. Just ripped up a couple trees here and there," answered Danny. "Ha. You are funny, kid. But just wait, you are only going to get better. I brought back that new 'supplement' I told you about." Ivan held out his hand, which was holding a bunch of small black pills. "These are called Black Russians, and are the newest supp to come out of eastern Europe. The Russians are using them to develop a whole new generation of superathletes." Danny looked at the pinhead-sized pills. "They're so small," he said, picking up one pill with two of his thick fingers and examining it. "Small, yes, but powerful. And easy to get into country, attached to my jacket like beading." "I'm joining the wrestling squad when I go to college next week. What if I get tested?" "Nothing will show. These special vitamins work directly on your DNA strands, lengthening and improving your teleomeres." "So we're like a genetic experiment?" asked Danny. "Yes," said Ivan. "One that is working." "You have enough of those to share with a friend of mine?" Danny asked. Then he told Ivan about Dwayne. At first, Ivan freaked out a little, but when Danny told him about Dwayne having been an even bigger dweeb than Danny had been, and where he was now, Ivan got a kick out of it. "So now your little buddy is doing mixed martial arts?" "Yep. He says it's like his brain memorized all the moves he watched on youtube vids. He's beating all the other guys at his gym, no matter what weight class. He outmaneuvers them, outpowers them, pins them." "How much he weigh?" "He went from a dweeby 120 to a granite hard 159." "He's beating guys bigger than him then?" "He told me he pinned a 250lb guy the other night. Took him less than 15 seconds." Ivan laughed. "Just wait till your bud tries some of these." "So it's cool?" "Sure is, kid. I'm kinda liking getting you former dorks all swole and cocky. And just wait till your little bud tries this stuff out. Chances are he'll never get huge, but it will maximize other skills laying latent inside him." "What about me?" "You got such a big-boned frame, you'll be holding a solid 400 plus in no time. With strength beyond reason." "Let's get started then," said Danny, hungrily. After two weeks of three hour a day workouts, Danny met Ivan's prediction, weighing in at a solid 410. Ivan didn't train with him anymore, but simply helped add plates to Danny's stacks of weights. Danny was benching 800lbs for his warmup. And squatting 1000lbs for reps, till his quads ballooned to 40+ inches of brute muscle thickness. He had gotten hairier all over, even his back, and he liked it cause it made him feel like a massive blond gorilla. Dwayne, on the other hand, had gotten better and better at his MMA fights, so much so that the gym owner had him taking on two guys at once. Dwayne had yet to lose. He and Danny waited two weeks before seeing each other. They'd both be leaving for college in a week after that, so they wanted to check each other's progress. They met up at the city's athletic fields, where there were tennis courts, basketball courts, three softball fields and a small football stadium. When they pulled up next to each other in the parking lot, got out and looked each other over, they simultaneously said, "Fuck, dude!" "Man, you're ginormous!" said Dwayne. "What are you, 380?" "414 this morning," said Danny, puffing out his ape chest. "And look at you, man. What are you wearing?" "It's a 100lb weighted vest. I wear it for wind sprints. I'm up to a mere 180lbs, a punk next to you, but my body fat's at 1.5%. And I've been running 100-yard dashes in under 10." "Dude, that's like world class." "I know. And that's with the vest on." "How fast without??" "I don't know. Wanna race?" "Fuck yeh, ya little squirt." They went over to the football field and got on the goal line. "One, two, three go," blurted Dwayne, and he took off. Danny started after his friend. Sod flew behind their feet as Dwayne shot ahead like a bullet. But Danny, despite his size, was extraordinarily fast, and almost caught up with him, finishing a fraction of a second behind his smaller buddy. "Dude, you little cheat," said Danny. "Here's what I outta do to you..." He waddled over to the goalpost, wrapped his hands around it, and bent it until the two posts arms hit the field. Dwayne had to dodge out of the way of one of them as it came down. "Hey, I told you I learned to run fast getting away from those bullies in high school," laughed Dwayne. "I don't think you'd have any trouble doing that now. But I doubt that you'd need to run anymore." "I think you're right. I have my first sanctioned fight coming up this weekend. And if I win, I'm thinking of deferring college for a year." "No shit?" "Yeh, man, I'm loving this fighting. And my gym owner gets hard thinking of the matches I could win with him training me. Thing is, I'm already holding back so I don't hurt someone too bad. I sense it when I'm fighting someone, how much stronger I am. It's a rush." They started walking back to the parking area, crossing one of the softball fields. Dwayne found a baseball bat that someone had left by the dugout. "Think I could snap it across my knee?" he asked Danny. "Try holding it straight out, one hand on each end. Snap it that way." "OK," said Dwayne, grinning. He held the bat at arm's length and tightened his grip. His forearm muscles flexed up like ropey, sinewy iron. The velcro straps of his weighted vest tore apart at the seams as his shoulders, chest and lats spread out with effort. Then the bat snapped. Like a toothpick. Even Dwayne was surprised by how fast and easy it broke. "Fuck," he said, as he looked down at the two bat pieces, one in each hand. "Fuck is right, man. That is some sick arm strength," said Danny. "God, that felt good," said Dwayne. "Hey, isn't that Tip's car in the parking lot?" asked Danny. Dwayne looked over at the nearby lot, and saw the red Dodge Charger with the vanity license plate that said "Tipster". "It sure as hell is," he said, his face reddening. He remembered how just seeing that car used to fill him with dread. His grip on the bat pieces increased unconsciously, until the wood cracked under his fingers, splintering apart. He dropped the bat pieces to the ground, then pulled off his weighted vest. "Hold this for me," he said, handing his 100lb vest to Danny, who took it with his pinkie finger. Dwayne made his way over to the Charger. He walked around the car, looking it over, when he heard a voice from behind him say, "Don't touch the car, man." It was Tip, coming back from a jog, all blond and oozing with arrogance. Every memory of being bullied by Tip came flooding back to Dwayne's mind as he saw the cocky jock walking up to his pride and joy. "You mean like this?" said Dwayne, as he took a swipe at the car's side mirror, knocking it off so that it swung by wires against the car's door. "What the fuck????" said Tip. "You don't remember me, do you?" said Dwayne. Tip stared at him hard, but Dwayne could tell he had no idea who he was. He could hardly blame him. The last time Tip saw him, he'd weighed 120lbs of soft nerd, and he was face down in the dirt. Since then, he'd gained 70lbs of steely muscle, his jaw line had squared off, he had a jutting Adam's apple on a neck that was corded with muscle, and he had rivers of veins running up and down his arms. His eyes had improved to 20/20 vision, so he was no longer wearing his thick glasses either. "You remember a kid you used to call the Dweeb? The one you used to chase down and make him eat dirt? The one you used to slam into the lockers in front of everyone." "What the fuck...." stammered Tip, a hint of recognition hitting him. "That kid doesn't exist anymore," said Dwayne. "Now it's just this one." He grabbed the dangling mirror and ripped it free of its wires. Then he crushed the mirror in his hands, letting bits of metal, plastic, and glass fall to the ground. "What the fuck..." said Tip, slack jawed. "I always knew you had a limited vocabulary, and it seems to be getting worse. You ought to work on that," said Dwayne. "But right now, it's your turn to run." Dwayne pulled of his tee shirt, so Tip could get a good look at the insanely jacked up muscle machine he had turned into. He clenched his stomach muscles so that Tip could see the striations stand out on each of the eight blocks of ab muscles on his tight, shredded torso. He flexed his right arm, and his biceps balled up into a perfect peak. Tip had seen a lot of shirtless jocks in his time, but never anyone with Dwayne's highly developed muscularity. Dwayne smirked as he saw Tip gulp. Then he smashed his left fist into the car door, denting the metal in about 5 inches. "That's what I call a love tap," said Dwayne. Then he hit the door again, his knuckles going in 6 inches. "...the fuck..." said Tip, backing away. Then he took off running. Tip had been the fastest guy in their school. In fact, he had broken the 100-yard dash record that had been in place since the 1990's. Dwayne gave him a 5 second head start, then went after him. All Tip heard was the rush of wind from Dwayne coming up behind him so fast, tackling him on the softball field, between 1st and 2nd base. Tip's face and torso hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. Dwayne straddled him and held him down. Tip struggled hard, but to no effect. "God damn, you are weak," said Dwayne after they both quickly realized how easily the former dweeb was able to control his former bully. Dwayne flexed his arms while holding Tip down with his powerful quads, squeezing them together just a little harder than he needed to. The muscles on his back popped out like thick leather straps, overlapping each other in perfect symmetry. "You want to see what it's like to eat dirt?" asked Dwayne. "No, man, no," said Tip. But it was too late. Dwayne scooped some dirt off the baseline and stuffed into Tip's mouth. Tip gagged and sputtered out wet muddy spittle, as Dwayne held his face to the ground. "Jesus, dude, what fucking pleasure did you ever get out of this?" said Dwayne, stopping his force feeding, but still pinning the jock down hard. Then he started sliding Tip face first along the baseline, until Tip's nose tapped into second base. "There, you're safe, asshole." Dwayne stood up over him. "I thought I would want to beat you to a pulp," he said to the cowering jock. "I still might. Here, let me help you up." Dwayne reached out his hand. Tip reluctantly took it. Dwayne yanked him to his feet like he was made of straw. As Tip started to brush himself off, Dwayne swung his foot at the jock's ankles and knocked him off his feet, onto his ass. "Ok," said Dwayne, "now that time it felt good. Here, I'll help you up. I won't do that again." He helped Tip up again, and didn't kick his feet out from under him. Instead, he punched him in his solar plexus, a quick jab, not enough to shatter his sternum, but enough to make him double over. Dwayne grabbed Tip's arms from behind and put him into a double-armed chickenwing. Then he lifted him off the ground and held him there. "I've got ten times your strength now. Maybe twenty." Dwayne tightened his hold and lifted Tip higher, just enough to prove it. Tip was just about to lose consciousness when Dwayne tossed him down. "If I ever hear about you bullying someone again, I'll come after you. And next time I won't be so friendly." Dwayne looked up and saw Danny over by Tip's car. Danny went over to the rear end of the Charger and started pushing on it until it skidded up over the curb. He pushed it harder and harder, smashing the front end into a big oak tree with such force that the car windows shattered. As Dwayne walked over to him, Danny pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Hi," Danny said into the phone. "My friend and I just saw a blond guy in a red car crash into a tree here at the park.....By the softball field parking lot....Yeah, he got out and tried to run away, but we stopped him." Danny hung up. As Tip crawled his way back towards his demolished car, Dwayne said, "That got me so riled up." He flexed his rock muscle chest. "Yeah, got me all jacked up just watching you," said Danny, jutting out his 70+ inch chest. "Let's go back to my place and fuck each others' brains out." "Yeah? You think you can handle all this?" said Dwayne, already getting hard as he rippled every striated muscle fiber on his new body. "Let's find out."
  5. Two days had gone by since Danny had given Dwayne the supplement he got from his trainer Ivan. It was still early in the morning, and Danny was working out in the garage. He had promised Ivan he wouldn't lift weights while Ivan was visiting Poland, but he hadn't promised not to pump up everyday, so he'd been busy doing handstand pushups, bending rebar, breaking lumber and crushing brick. He'd just finished his 6th set of deadlifting the front of his dad's Range Rover, when he got a text from Dwayne. "Dude, that stuff u gave me is kickn in," he wrote. "I woke up at 6 this morn and went for a run. A run, man, and no one was chasing me. I ran all the way to the city park." "Isn't that like 5 miles from ur house," Danny answered. "Yeh and I didn't even get winded. U know that fitness trail at the park?" "The one with chinup station and monkey bars, shit like that? Yeh I know it." "I hit that thing like an American Ninja. I did 40 chinups. Remember how many I could do in PE?" "5?" "3. Sometimes only 2. And even they were bad ones kicking my legs all over. Everyone mocked me. Now I fly thru the monkey bars. I'm stoked man, that stuff is legit." "Told u" "Yeh but now I'm insane hungry. Meet for food?" "OK, how bout McDonalds there by park?" "OK, but shouldn't we be eatin lean or oatmeal or something?" "Yeh probably but it doesn't seem to matter. C u there." Danny got the keys to his dad's car and headed out. He wasn't supposed to drive the Rover, but what was the old man gonna do, spank him? Danny chuckled at the thought. He pulled into McDonald's and saw Dwayne waiting outside in a sweat-soaked running shirt and cargo shorts. "Hey, man," Danny said as he got out. "Dude," said Dwayne, "you got no neck anymore, you're just huge traps clear up to your ears." "Yeah, I was doing deads with the truck, it swells up my back and traps pretty wicked." "This truck?" "Yep." "Geezus, man," said Dwayne as they headed inside. "What's in your gym bag?" "My mass gainer shake. I'm gonna have it with about ten McMuffins." They got their food then sat down at a table. Dwayne said, "Did you see the way that cashier was checking you out?" "Nah, man, I thought she was looking at you. You're looking jacked." "I know, right? Look at my forearms." Dwayne held out his arms, his palms upward. Veins were showing all over the underside of his forearms. "Any maybe you're right, she was looking at me. I noticed it at the park, too, girls looking me over with that 'look'. Some guys too." "Get used to it, bud, I get it all the time now." "Well, yeah, you. Look at you in that stringer. I never had anyone look at me with hunger in their eyes before." Danny was already through with half his McMuffins, and was now downing his mass gainer. He saw Dwayne looking at him, and he said, "It all turns to muscle. It's crazy. I had 3 large pizzas and a gallon of this gainer shake last night around midnight." "It doesn't bloat you up?" "Yeah, fiercely for awhile. Take a look," said Danny, pulling up his tank to show his gut, bulging out like a balloon, the skin stretched tight, but with abs ridges making his stomach look like a tortoise shell. "I shaved it down this morning. Wanna touch?" "God yeah," said Dwayne, coming around the table and laying his hand on Danny's muscle gut. "Holy shit, dude, it's like a Buddha belly, except hard as marble!" Dwayne rubbed his hand on the smooth hard mound. "Yep. Except in about two hours it'll be flattening out and I'll be starving again." "My hunger's been thru the roof too, and I've never been much of an eater." "You know what else?" said Danny, "Your skin's all cleared up, too." Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Danny couldn't help but notice Dwayne's complexion, which was smooth and healthy looking. He had always had a lot of skin problems. "You're actually kind of a looker now." "Shut up," said Dwayne, going back to his seat. "You're right though, all my zits cleared up almost overnight." "Hey, I heard from Ivan last night on WhatsApp. He's taking another week over there, to go to Russia. He might be getting a supply of something new." "Stronger than the stuff we got now??" "Not sure. Guess we'll see." They finished eating, and headed out of the McDonald's. When they got outside, Dwayne said, "You want to go check out the fitness trail at the park?" "Sure." "We'll see if I can beat you on some of the stations," said Dwayne. "Yeah, ya think? Think you can beat these?" Danny flexed his arms, his biceps rising into mountainous peaks. A car that was pulling into the parking lot rear ended another car. "Dude,"said Dwayne, "your arms just caused an accident!" Danny laughed. "I think you're right. Let's go to the park. You wanna ride?" "Nah, man, let's run. It's less than a mile. I'll race ya." "You're on," said Danny, and the two friends started running up the hill that led to the park. Danny couldn't believe how fast Dwayne was. It was like he was racing the Flash. By the time Danny got to the hilltop park, his smaller friend was resting on a bench. "What took you so long?" chided Dwayne. "Very funny, pip-squeak. I'd a beat you if I didn't have 150lbs more muscle to schlep." Danny went over to the back of the bench, picked it up and tipped it up until Dwayne fell off of it. Dwayne landed on the ground in a heap, but he wasn't hurt. He looked at Danny in awe. "Man, that bench is made of cement...it must weigh 450lbs! . "Does it?" asked Danny. "Doesn't feel that heavy," and he pressed the bench up over his head and started pressing it for reps. "Fuck," said Dwayne, watching his huge friend from the ground. Then he said, "Geezus man, your legs..." Danny tossed the bench behind his head where it landed on the grass and sank in about a foot. He looked down and saw that the run up the hill had bloated his legs full, and had brought out a whole new level of vascularity. His massive quads were covered with them, snaking in and out of thick layers of muscle, and his big calves each had a garden hose sized vein running across the outside sweep. "Hoo yeah!" said Danny, bringing his right foot up and flexing his calf. The thick muscles bulged outward, shifting the vein to one side as it swelled. "Let's skip the fitness trail, and go into the woods behind the park. I'm feeling like I could uproot a tree or two," said Danny. They crossed thru the park along the jogging path. Almost every jogger they passed turned back to get a second look at the two young friends. One guy looked for so long, he ran into a tree. Dwayne went back to help him up. "My friend is so huge, it's hard not to look, isn't it?" Dwayne said to the guy as he got him back on his feet. "He is yeh, but I was looking at you. You're jacked up so lean and hard. You look real strong for your size." The guy jogged off, embarrassed but unharmed. Dwayne stood there for a second, stunned. No one had ever complimented his physique. "Dude, come on," yelled Danny. "Did you hear what that guy said?" asked Dwayne as he caught up. "Yeah, I heard. You got him all atwitter inside, stud." "I did, didn't I?" The two of them headed into the woods, with Dwayne walking with an exaggerated swagger like Vince McMahon heading to the ring. They made their way thru the trees, until they came upon a stand of birches. "Think I could rip one of these outta the ground?" asked Danny, stripping off his stringer tank and tossing it to the ground. "Just one? Why don't ya try two at once, ya cocky brute." "Yeah? You wanna see cocky?" Danny found two birches, about five feet apart, and stood in between them. He reached out his arms and grabbed their trunks, one in each hand. He tightened his grip around the trees, each trunk about 20 inches in circumference, his meaty fingers crushing into the crunchy bark and almost reaching completely around the trunks. He squeezed harder, adjusted his stance, and began to lift. Muscle all over his body tightened and clenched, and his nostrils flared, as he lifted upward with his huge arms. The leaves on the two trees started shaking, and more bark flaked off as Danny's powerful grip dug in. Dwayne heard the ground start to rip around the base of the trees. "Dude...." he said in awe, as his Herculean friend began to force the tree trunks upward, inch by inch. Danny grunted deeply with each effort to lift the trees more. Thick veins popped out on his neck and across his chest and delts, and down his big arms. He threw his head back and his neck bulged like a column of sinew. The trees lifted higher. The ground around them tore apart faster as Danny lifted them up, up, up. He shook the trees back and forth, freeing the roots from the earth. Finally, he ripped them free of the ground and held them midair like two trophies. "Dude..." said Dwayne, leaning against the trunk of a third tree."You a freak..." Danny let the tree trunks go so that they both fell behind him with a crashing thump. "Yep," he said brushing his hands together to knock off the bark flakes. Sweat rolled down his thick muscles, dripping to the ground. His huge barrel chest heaved in and out. "You got me all riled up now, man," said Dwayne. "I got to try something myself." "You gonna try to rip up a tree?" "Nah, I ain't no rhino like you. But I've been watching mma vids, and I've been aching to test out a roundhouse kick." Dwayne was already circling a birch tree. Not as big as the ones Danny had taken on, but not a sapling either. He squared himself up to it, then swung his leg into it, whacking the trunk with his shin. The tree snapped in half, the top part toppling down next to the two trees Danny had uprooted. "Aw, yeh!!" growled Dwayne. "Man, didn't that hurt your shin?" "The weird thing is, it didn't. I felt it, but it's not like real pain. I've been kicking and punching stuff at home, like walls and columns, and it doesn't hurt me." With that, Dwayne stripped off his running shirt and flexed into a most muscular pose. "Man, you are definitely jacked up! You look like Conor McGregor without the ink!" "Who's that?" said Dwayne, looking down at his newly sinewy arms. "You've been watching mma stuff and you've missed McGregor? You gotta look him up. Fuck, you could probably take him if you can snap a tree in two with one kick." "I doubt that, but I am starting fighting lessons at that UFC gym downtown tomorrow. I met the manager who thinks I have potential." "You definitely have that. Flex your arms for me." Dwayne grinned and lifted his arms into a flex. "Man, you got peaks! I bet those things are 16 inches of pure muscle." Danny reached out and put one hand on each of Dwayne's arms. He squeezed them. "Fuck, dude. They don't even dent." "Oh come on, those sausage fingers of yours can't dent my little arms? Squeeze harder." Danny crushed down on the biceps, digging his big thumb into the belly of the muscles. "They're like rock," he said. "This isn't hurting you at all is it?" "Nah, man. I feel it, but it sorta feels good. it's kinda fucking turning me on." Danny lifted Dwayne up off the ground by his two arms. Dwayne smirked. "Awww, yeh man. Harder!" Danny walked with his friend in the air, over to an oak tree, and pinned Dwayne high up against the trunk. His crotch was even with Danny's face. "You ever have a bj, Dwayne?" "Heck no man, you know I've never had sex yet. Neither have you." "Let's change that," Danny said, and he started unzipping Dwayne's cargo shorts with his teeth by biting down on the tab and sliding Dwayne higher up the tree. "Oh god yeh,"groaned Dwayne. Not only had his muscles gotten bigger and harder, so had his cock. Thicker too, and able to muscle its way out of his pants and plop onto Danny's face. Danny took it into his mouth. He'd never given a blow job, but he figured there couldn't be that much to it. He just started sucking and bobbing, while pinning Dwayne's arms against the tree. Dwayne arched into his big friend's face, as a feeling of total ecstasy flushed thru his body. Nothing had ever felt so good. "Goddammmm," he grunted over and over. "GodDAMMMM>" It didn't take him long to bust like a fountain down Danny's throat. Danny took it all like a seasoned pro. It was like being force fed a protein shake, so he continued to milk his friend until he was totally dry. Then he lowered Dwayne to the ground. Both of them were a little lightheaded. They laid down on the mossy ground, both smiling like deflowered virgins. "You want payback?" Dwayne asked Danny. "Eventually," said Danny,"but now I have to get going, I'm running late." "For what?" I have to drive out to the university. I have an appointment with the wrestling coach." "You're going to try out?" "Yep. And I'm going to make a deal with the coach. I'll be his heavyweight champ, but only if I get to use Jack as my training partner." "Dude, that's too wicked good," said Dwayne, getting to his feet and zipping himself up. "Definitely let me know how that goes."
  6. strength

    As the summer progressed, Danny continued to make rapid gains in his size and strength. His trainer Ivan had never seen anything like it. He was proud of the kid, who'd made such tremendous changes to his body, but Ivan was also somewhat envious, jealous even, of his young client's rapid improvements. Danny was now benching over 620lbs for reps, which was twice his bodyweight, and more than double what Ivan could bench. The same was true of his squat and deadlift. Despite Danny's initial reluctance to workout, he now trained like an eager puppy, looking forward to each session, and lifting with wild abandon, aching for Ivan to add more and more weight to the bar. When Ivan left for a week to fly back to Poland and look into some new "supplements", he told Danny to take the week off, too. They'd be training twice a day for almost a month now, and Ivan said Danny could use the time to let his body recuperate. Danny looked at himself in the gym mirror as Ivan was telling him this. He didn't think his body looked like it needed any rest. He was in a stringer tank, and his muscles looked full and thick and tight. His delt caps were the size and shape of soccer balls. He could make the rounded shoulder muscles roll and flex, and he loved doing it. Ivan said he had some of the best muscle control he'd ever seen. This made Danny beam with pride, and got him to practice more muscle flexing every chance he got. "But a whole week?" said Danny. "What the heck am I gonna do?" "See how much weight you can gain," said Ivan. "Sometimes the best gains are made during a rest week. You've got the mass gainer powders I gave you. How many times a day are you drinking a shake?" "Twice." "Up it to four," said Ivan. "See what happens." "I'll do five,"said Danny with a grin. Ivan left the next day, but only after making Danny promise not to go to the gym while he was gone. They both laughed at the irony of it, given that Danny didn't even know where a gym was up until two months ago. Danny still wasn't sure what he was going to do to kill time, so he started by texting his friend Dwayne. They hadn't seen each other since graduation. They'd texted back and forth a couple times, but Danny was always busy lifting or eating or flexing in his bedroom mirror to get together. So he invited Dwayne over. He said he had something to show him. When Dwayne pulled into the driveway, Danny was in the garage. He hit the garage door opener, but stayed out of sight as the door went up. He kept the lights off too. Dwayne got out of his car and came to the open door. As his eyes tried to adjust from the bright outdoor sunshine, he couldn't see much of anything in the dimly light garage. "Come on in," said Danny. Dwayne stepped into the garage, and Danny had to chuckle to himself. Dwayne was in for a shock. He hadn't change a bit since high school. "Dwayne the Dweeb" was what the jocks called him. Not much better than "Danny the Dork", but Danny had transformed into a superheavy weight musclehead. Dwayne was the epitome of the skinny white nerd, in his white short sleeve dress shirt, and heavy rimmed, heavy-lensed glasses. At 5'8", he weighed all over 130lbs. "Why's it so dark in here?" asked Dwayne. "I just didn't want to freak you out," said Danny. "Freak me out how? You get nerdier than ever?" Dwayne said, snorting. "Turn on the light switch by the wall," said Danny. Dwayne turned and flicked the switch. When he turned back, Danny was standing right under the light in an XXXXL tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. His chest ballooned out the shirt, and his huge thighs stretched his nylon shorts skin tight and pushed them halfway up his quads. Danny had not lifted at the gym, like he'd promised Ivan, but he had found ways to workout with stuff around the house and in the garage. From this, he'd gotten his veins to stand out on all of his thick limbs. Dwayne backed up and leaned against the wall, looking his huge friend up and down. "What the......" he stammered, as he soaked in the vision of his formerly fat friend's new physique. "Dude.....you told me you were lifting, but didn't say you morphed into a behemoth!" "Yeah," grinned Danny. "Remember how my arms used to be so chubby?" He pulled the sleeve of his right arm up to his shoulder, then flexed his arm up. "Now look." "Holy smokes, Danny. It's a mountain peak. I knew you had muscle underneath all that blubber." "Very funny," said Danny. But it was true. Dwayne had always thought that Danny was more solid than he looked. But this was insane. "Dude, I know you got all A's in AP Chemistry...did you cook up some kinda super roid or something?" "Nah, man, I'm just lifting heavy and taking some vitamins." "Sounds like Vitamin "S" to me, Danny. Where you getting them?" "From that personal trainer I told you about." "The one from eastern Europe? And you think his supplements he's giving you are from GNC?" "Nah, man, I know they're not. But feel my fuckin' arm, dude." Danny did a half flex of his left arm. Dwayne came over and put his hand on it. "Geezus, dude. Feels like marble!" Danny stretched his arm out to his side. "Try and pull my arm down." Dwayne grabbed onto Danny's thick forearm and yanked down on it. He tried again and again, but the big arm didn't budge. "Hang off it, lift your feet," said Danny. So Dwayne wrapped his arms around Danny's wrist and then lifted his feet off the ground. Dwayne clung to the forearm like a lemur clings to a tree limb. Danny held him in the air like he weighed as much as a lemur. Then he curled his arm upward, lifting his friend up and down. "Man, you got sic strength!" "I know. It's so awesome. And watch this." Danny grabbed a crowbar that was hanging off the pegboard behind his dad's workbench. He held it out in front of him, one hand on each end. "Put your hand back on my arm," he told Dwayne. Then Danny began to bend the crowbar. His arm muscles tightened and surged. Veins popped out on his neck and across his traps. The crowbar creaked as the ends started to bend downward. He bent it until the ends touched. Then he dropped it to the garage floor with a loud clang. "Oh man," said Dwayne. "I think I just came a little." "That ain't nothing," said Danny. "Watch this." He went over to his dad's Mercedes, squatted down next to the side doors, reached underneath the frame, then deadlifted the car up until both tires were off the ground. "My fuck..." stammered Dwayne. Danny did ten reps with the car, then set it down. "Ah, yehhh," said Danny. "Help me pull my shirt off, man, my arms and lats are too bloated to do it." Danny leaned over and outstretched his arms. Dwayne grabbed the bottom of the tee and started pulling it off Danny's torso. It wasn't easy, even with Danny's help, but they finally got it over his head and arms. Danny stood upright. "Damn, man, look at your six pack!" said Dwayne. "I know. They're like brick. Go ahead and hit me." "Hit you?" "Yeah, go ahead, slug my gut. You won't be able to hurt me." "Aw man," said Dwayne, but he started to punch Danny's abs. He started slow, but then hit them faster and faster, and harder each time, until his fists began to hurt. Danny's brick abs didn't even dent. Dwayne stopped as he started to get winded. "Man...that's crazy!" "I know, right? Craziest thing is, I'm wasn't even flexing them. Watch." Danny clenched down on his ab muscles, and his six pack swelled out, the muscle bulging out like rising loaves of bread...bread made out of stone. "Fuck, man. Fuck," said Dwayne as he leaned against the workbench. His whole body shook to its core. "Damn you man, I just came in my pants. Holy smokes, Danny. That is...that is wild." "Ha, you're funny, dude. I didn't even know you were into muscle." "Neither did I, till now. Who wouldn't nut to what you got going on? You're a ubermasculine superhuman!" Then a thought occurred to Dwayne. "Hey, you got any extra of those "vitamins"? "I have enough until Ivan gets back. Why?" "Let me have some." "Why? You don't even lift." "You didn't either til a couple months ago. Let me try one a day for a week or two, see what happens." "Yeah? Ok, man, that might be interesting. Don't do any lifting though, we'll see if it does anything at all." "Dude, the only thing I know how to lift is my dick. Look at me. Even if it jacks me up a little, I'd be happy." "Ok, then, come on." They went up to Danny's room, and he doled out two weeks worth of his supplement. Dwayne noticed the sweat rolling down Danny's huge torso. "Geezus, man, even your sweat smells good. It smells like leather and cotton candy in here." Danny laughed, then put his mitt-sized hand behind his friend's head and pressed his face into his deep pit. "Breathe it in, little dude," Danny said, and Dwayne sucked in the aroma like he was using his inhaler. He had to push away when he thought he was going to pass out from pleasure. "Cut it out, man, that's not cool..." but he could have spent all day in that muscle cavern. "Get me some water, I wanna take one of these now." As Danny grabbed a bottle of water off his bedside table, Dwayne noticed the reflection of the two of them in the bedroom wall mirror. The size difference was so astonishing that he had to sit down on Danny's bed. "Just how big are you?" he said. "Almost 300lbs now, but I haven't weighed myself today." Danny handed Dwayne the water. "Imagine if you met up with Jack the Jerk now," said Dwayne, referring to the jock in high school who used to torment Danny the most. Danny and his friends called him the Jerk, but certainly not to his face. The guy was a state wrestling champ, and an arrogant tool. During Danny's short stint with the wrestling team, Jack had secretly peed in Danny's shampoo. When word gets out in high school about something like that, it's hard to live down. Danny's face reddened from the memory. "That," said Danny, clenching his fists as he checked himself out in the mirror, "would be an interesting encounter." "Hey, didn't you get a full ride to RU?" Dwayne asked, as he watched Danny's thickly muscled back muscles tighten. RU was the university near where they lived. "I did," said Danny. "I heard that Jack's going there too, on a wrestling scholarship." Dwayne swallowed down the pill, then said. "You know my sister Heather works there, in the housing department. She said that Jack and his evil cohort Tip were going to room together. You remember Tip?" "'Course I do. He used to chase you down and shove you into lockers." "Yeah, that's the one. At least I learned to run fast from him hunting me down. Anyway, I was thinking that my sister could 'accidently' mess up their dorm assignment, and slip you in with Jack on the down low." "With neither one of them realizing?" "Yeah. Imagine Jack's face, moving into his room and finding you there, like you are now." Danny picked up a tank top from his bed, and put it on. "Didn't he wrestle as like 175lbs?" "Yeah, that has to be about right. He might be bigger than that now, but you could mess with his head pretty good. Bet you have 100lbs on him." "Yep. And a bigger dick too." Dwayne laughed. "How do you know that?" "I remember seeing him in the showers, and thinking, for such a big dickhead, he had just an average cock. Mine was bigger even then. And now, it's gotten bigger." "Yeh? From the pills and lifting, I bet. Lemme see, man." Danny reached into his shorts and flopped out his cock and let it hang, thick and weighty, halfway to his knees. "Geezus, dude. That things an anaconda!" "I know," said Danny, packing his meat back into his shorts. "Do me a favor. Text your sister, let's make this thing happen."
  7. The Warlord was definitely worth holding out for.
  8. Yeh, sorry about the posting glitch.
  9. Danny had just graduated high school when his dad told him he'd hired a personal trainer for him as a graduation gift. It was kind of a mixed blessing. His dad had always wanted him to play sports, but Danny was way too much of a nerd to ever get into it. Especially after he tried out for the wrestling team as a freshman as a favor to his dad. It was a disaster. Even as a freshman, Danny was a chubbyvery would be rough on the kid, so he came by the house early. Danny's dad let him up to Danny's room. Ivan told Danny, who'd just gotten painfully dressed, to lay back down on his bed, where he proceeded to give Danny a rubdown. At first, Danny y Danny had just graduated high school when his dad told him he'd hired a personal trainer for him as a graduation gift. It was kind of a mixed blessing. His dad had always wanted him to play sports, but Danny was way too much of a nerd to ever get into it. Especially after he tried out for the wrestling team as a freshman as a favor to his dad. It was a disaster. Even as a freshman, Danny was a chubby, soft kid. The other guys on the squad mocked him, teased him, played tricks on him. He stuck it out about half the season, but then couldn't take it. After that, no more sports for him. He just got more into playstation. And junk food. So by the time of graduation, he was 250lbs of dorky blubber. He agreed to the trainer to keep his dad off his back, and promised to stick to it for at least 3 months. His trainer was a Polish guy named Ivan, who worked construction during the day, and did personal training in evenings and weekends. In Poland, he was a champion arm wrestler. He was jacked up and rugged, and made Danny nervous with his intensity. The day after his first workout, Danny thought he was going to die, his body hurt so much. He could barely get out of bed. It was a Saturday, and Ivan must have known that the recovery would be rough on the kid, so he came by the house early. Danny's dad let him up to Danny's room. Ivan told Danny, who'd just gotten painfully dressed, to lay back down on his bed, where he proceeded to give Danny a rubdown. At first, Danny yelped out in pain with every rub. Fortunately, Ivan had told Danny's dad to expect to hear groans of pain, or he'd have come running up to see what was wrong. Danny thought he was going to puke or pass out from the pain, as Ivan dug into his sore joints and tendons with his strong hands and elbows. The workout yesterday had been bad enough for Danny, with Ivan running him thru a gauntlet of exercises and lifts. Danny had never imagined that the next day would be even worse. Ivan basically had him pinned down to the bed, as he continued to rub him down, telling him to relax, that the pain would get better. And soon the pain did become more tolerable, as Ivan loosened up his tight muscle fibers and throbbing tendons. And then, the pain of the rubdown began to become pleasure. By the time Ivan finished, Danny felt 100 percent better. "How did you do that?" he asked Ivan. "That was like a miracle. I didn't think I'd be able to walk!" Ivan laughed. "You are funny, kid. I was pretty sure you'd never be back for another workout if I didn't come over and loosen you up today." "Will it always hurt like that the day after?" "Nah. Your body will adjust fast. But I have something for you that will help." Ivan pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket and handed it to Danny. "Take one of these a day. It's like a vitamin. I know you don't believe it, but you've got potential, kid. If you stick with me, you'll see changes in your body you never dreamed of." Danny wasn't sure what 'like a vitamin' meant, but he grabbed the bottle of water that was on his nightstand and swallowed down a pill. "I'll see you tonight for your second workout," said Ivan, as he got ready to leave. "Tonight?" asked Danny. "I thought I was only working out three days a week." "Three days in not enough for the progress we will make with you, kid. We are on six days a week schedule now." Danny wanted to vomit. But he could tell there was no arguing with his big trainer. He was pretty sure that Ivan would come and drag him to the gym if he didn't show up, so he resigned himself to his fate. As it turned out, once Danny got past that first week, his body adjusted enough to the workouts that he was never so insanely sore again. He was still achy ever morning, but he realized that he kind of liked the feeling. And it went away with his next workout, so that he began to look forward to lifting, much to his surprise. His progress was rapid too. Ivan told him he'd never seen someone's physique change so quickly. Danny could flex in the mirror now, and begin to see muscle showing thru his fat. He was doing so well, in fact, that Ivan dropped all his other clients, and began to work solely with Danny. He also told Danny to start taking two or three of his pills a day. Danny didn't see any reason not to, he liked the way they made him feel...stronger, more confident, more energy. Even his skin had improved, his acne clearing up, and the tone changing from a pasty, almost ashen, pallor, to a tanner, almost golden shine,. The hair on his head was changing too. He'd always had thick, dishwater blond hair, with weird cowlicks that made it stick out funny no matter what he did to it. Now, it was coming in blonder and even thicker, and all he had to do was run his hand thru it in the morning, and it went perfectly into place, like he'd had it styled. He was getting more hair on his face and chest, too, which was more of a chestnut color that seemed to glisten with health. And his body's scent had changed, from what used to make his room smell like sour milk, to an aroma of leather and clove and a masculine musk that gave him a hard-on when he smelled his own arm pit. And speaking of his dick. Once he'd hit puberty, his dick grew to a decent size for a dweeby, awkward kid. It was a good six inches, and pretty thick. He jerked off in his room twice, sometimes three times a day. But since he'd started working out with Ivan, he felt it getting plumper and thicker. And he felt much more intense pleasure when he touched it. Heck, he didn't even have to touch it, it was constantly in search of pleasure even as it rubbed up against his pant legs. And at night, he was having intense wet dreams that were vastly more vivid and lifelike than before he starting lifting and taking Ivan's vitamins. Sometimes he woke up just in time to finish himself off with his hand, and the sensation was tenfold more intense than he'd ever experienced. All these changes to his former self paled in comparison to his fat loss. After a month of lifting, Ivan had calibrated his body fat going from a nasty 28% down to 18%. He was starting to see his muscles, and even some veins. He liked it more than he'd ever thought he would, especially after his workouts. Ivan had him do pushups to failure after his chest workout. Ivan explained to him about the pump, and Danny couldn't believe how good it felt. It was like his whole body was a big, engorged cock, swollen tight and full with the Pump. He started doing pushups at home after he'd gone up to bed, just to feel his chest pump up again. Soon, the pushups weren't enough, and he started putting his feet up on his bed to put more weight on his upper torso, and when that wasn't enough he did handstands up against the wall, and would do pushup after pushup until his chest was engorged with bloat. After awhile of that, he found that his coordination had increased so much that he could hold a handstand and still do pushups, his nose tapping the floor over and over as his reps increased to over 25. Once he'd finished a couple sets, his delts, traps, and chest would look like someone had morphed a picture of him. He still weighted 250lbs, but his entire body shape had altered. And he'd gotten so cocky after one month of training, that he was challenging Ivan to one-armed pushup contests, and beating his trainer. Ivan hated losing, but he loved that Danny was so into improving, so he started adding in some wrestling and mma fighting lessons. Danny was surprised that he remembered some of the basic moves of wrestling from his short time on the team when he was a freshman. The biggest problem he'd had back then was a total lack of stamina. After about 30 seconds of practice, he would be gasping for breath, and feeling like he was going to have a heart attack. Now, after a mere month of training with Ivan, he felt like he could grapple all day. He never seemed to get winded, and could move the 220lb Ivan around the mats with relative ease, or lift him into a fireman's carry and walk around with him over his shoulder. Ivan started having Danny use him for squats. He loved the way that made his thick legs swell with pump. The second month into training Danny made even bigger strides in his size and strength. One morning in the kitchen, he bumped into his dad and nearly sent him flying across the room. "Geezus, son," said his father, rubbing his shoulder. "It felt like I just walked into a wall." Danny was still wearing his oversized 4XL tee shirts that he used to wear to hide his fat, so it was hard to tell just how much muscle he'd put on. "Yeah, Dad, I'm getting kinda jacked up," said Danny, and then he pulled back the sleeve of his tee shirt and flexed his arms. His dad's eyes almost popped out. "My god, Danny, your arm is huge!" "I know, right? Feel it." His dad reached out and put both his hands around Danny's big arm peak. "What the....? Your arm is like a boulder!" said his dad. "Yeah, pretty close. Ivan measured it at 18.5 inches the other day, and that was before I did curls. He says that's pretty big for someone my age. I can probably lift you right off the ground now." He grabbed his dad by his belt, and curled him up until his feet were dangling off the floor. His dad put his hands on Danny's big shoulders to balance himself, and he couldn't believe the thickness and solidness of his son's delts. And it dawned on Danny that he was now, for the first time, vastly stronger than his father. "I can't believe it, son. I mean, I could tell your body was changing, but this is unbelievable!" "Yeah, it's pretty cool. Look at this," and Danny put his dad down, then stripped his tee shirt up over his head and tossed it aside. His father gasped as he soaked in the vision of his young son. He was hated to admit it, but he had often been embarrassed or ashamed of how fat and dorky his son had gotten growing up. Now, he could barely believe his eyes. His son looked like Clay Matthews of the Packers standing in front of him, except with shorter hair and a thicker neck. He realized for the first time how much Danny's features had changed over the past month. His jaw jutted out, and his cheekbones stood out more. He still had bulk on him, but his dad could see abs starting to show thru his newly leaned down gut. Danny noticed him looking at his waist, and he tightened up his abs. "Ivan thinks I could get an 8 pack if I work hard enough," said Danny, strumming his stomach with his fingers. A 6 pack was already starting to show. "He says I must have always had a latent genetic potential for muscle size and strength." Danny's dad had to agree. He'd noticed for a long time that Danny seemed unusually strong for a kid that never played sports or did much of any physical activity. That's why he'd hired Ivan to train Danny in the first place, to see where it would lead. Still, he was shocked by the rapid changes in his son. "Hey, Dad," Danny said suddenly, as an idea came to him. "Remember how you used to make me arm wrestle you? Let's try it now." Danny clenched his right hand into a fist, and the muscles of his arm responded by flexing hard. His dad gulped a little as he noticed the network of veins that were starting to pop out on his son's thick forearm. He also noticed that Danny's hands, which he had always thought of as chubby and soft, now looked more like solid beef. His fingers looked almost twice as thick as his dad's. Ivan had been making Danny train his grip along with the rest of his training. He'd given Danny a set of level 1 metal grippers the first week they started. Danny had closed the with ease, and after doing twenty reps with no problem, Ivan dug out a pair of level 3 grippers. Danny said, "Oh yeh, these are harder to close," but was still able to make the ends tap together like castanets. "Geezus," muttered Ivan to himself. He gave Danny a set of level 4s, the toughest level the grippers came in. Ivan had only seen one guy close them, a big powerlifter he worked with at his construction job, and he could only get about 5 or 6 reps. Danny took them, wrapped his thick fingers around them, and squeezed them shut. After ten reps, he said, "Yeh, that was a lot harder." He switched the grippers to his left hand and did ten reps with them. "Can I take these home to play with them, Ivan," he asked. "They're making my forearms feel super tight." "Yeh, yeh, take them," said Ivan, stunned by the hand strength of his nerdy fatboy client. "Play as much as you want, kid." A month later, and the kid could hold the ends of the #4 grippers together for ten minutes. The metal was dented in a little from his grip. And he was now ready to arm wrestle his dad for the first time in about a year. They sat down at the kitchen table opposite of each other. Danny's old man wasn't sure what to expect, but his heart was beating fast as he continued to realize the changes in his son's physique. He felt somewhat guilty about the times he'd made Danny arm wrestle him in the past. There was no way his chubby teen son could beat him, and he never let him, but partly he was hoping that it would spur the kid into getting more fit. That had never worked. Up to now. Danny put his arm up on the table and his dad followed suit. They gripped up, and again the older man was shocked by the thick beefiness in his son's hand. "You say 'go', Dad," said Danny. "OK....1...2...3.....GO." Danny slammed his dad's hand to the table. It took under a second. "You must not have been ready," said Danny. "Do it again." And they did. With the same result. "You're not really trying," said Danny, but it was dawning on him that his dad was trying with all his might. "Do it again." And they did. A third time. Then a fourth. Dany began to realize that not only was he stronger than his dad, but that he was vastly stronger. It chubbed him up. "Try again, only this time I'll just use my little finger," said Danny, feeling cocky. He stuck out his pinky finger and slid it against his dad's palm. His dad was feeling the opposite of chubbed up, as his dick retreated and shrank up in his pants. His son was about to beat him in arm wrestling using only one finger. He was right. This time, Danny said Go, and down went his father's arm. Even Danny was amazed by the strength in his little finger. He could feel the muscle of his finger bulging as he slowly took his dad's hand down to the table. "Fuck," they both said, but for different reasons. Danny was feeling a surge of what it felt like to be superhuman. He stood up from the table, the only part of him that could still be called "chubby" showing thru his sweat pants like a club. He stuck his hand down his waistband and adjusted himself with his powerful fingers. "I gotta take a shower," Danny said, and headed upstairs. His dad stayed at the table, drained, and stunned. His son's formerly fat ass rolled with thick muscle as he headed to the stairs. Danny got into the shower and began to flex and feel his own muscles. The muscles that had just owned his father in arm wrestling. "Fuck," groaned Danny, as he soaped himself up and rubbed his big arm, so heavy with thick muscle. He traced the pencil-thick veins that were bulging out of his forearm with his finger, down until he followed the palm of his hand to his little finger...the finger than had twice the strength of his dad's whole arm. He stroked the thick pinkie finger and felt the muscle in it. "God damn, so strong..."he moaned. Then he soaped up his engorged dick and started jerking himself off. He thought about how he could out-bench Ivan now, and how Ivan would add more and more weight to the bar, everyday. Everyday, he was getting stronger, bigger, freakier. He thought about what he might do if he ran into one of the jocks who taunted him in school. He had more muscle than any of them now. The thought of it made him stroke his ten incher harder and harder, till he sprayed all over the shower tile. Rope after rope, washing down the walls and into the drain. "Whoa, that was good," Danny said to himself, letting the hot shower water splash over his 50 inch chest. "I definitely have to look one of those guys up." elped out in pain with every rub. Fortunately, Ivan had told Danny's dad to expect to hear groans of pain, or he'd have come running up to see what was wrong. Danny thought he was going to puke or pass out from the pain, as Ivan dug into his sore joints and tendons with his strong hands and elbows. The workout yesterday had been bad enough for Danny, with Ivan running him thru a gauntlet of exercises and lifts. Danny had never imagined that the next day would be even worse. Ivan basically had him pinned down to the bed, as he continued to rub him down, telling him to relax, that the pain would get better. And soon the pain did become more tolerable, as Ivan loosened up his tight muscle fibers and throbbing tendons. And then, the pain of the rubdown began to become pleasure. By the time Ivan finished, Danny felt 100 percent better. "How did you do that?" he asked Ivan. "That was like a miracle. I didn't think I'd be able to walk!" Ivan laughed. "You are funny, kid. I was pretty sure you'd never be back for another workout if I didn't come over and loosen you up today." "Will it always hurt like that the day after?" "Nah. Your body will adjust fast. But I have something for you that will help." Ivan pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket and handed it to Danny. "Take one of these a day. It's like a vitamin. I know you don't believe it, but you've got potential, kid. If you stick with me, you'll see changes in your body you never dreamed of." Danny wasn't sure what 'like a vitamin' meant, but he grabbed the bottle of water that was on his nightstand and swallowed down a pill. "I'll see you tonight for your second workout," said Ivan, as he got ready to leave. "Tonight?" asked Danny. "I thought I was only working out three days a week." "Three days in not enough for the progress we will make with you, kid. We are on six days a week schedule now." Danny wanted to vomit. But he could tell there was no arguing with his big trainer. He was pretty sure that Ivan would come and drag him to the gym if he didn't show up, so he resigned himself to his fate. As it turned out, once Danny got past that first week, his body adjusted enough to the workouts that he was never so insanely sore again. He was still achy ever morning, but he realized that he kind of liked the feeling. And it went away with his next workout, so that he began to look forward to lifting, much to his surprise. His progress was rapid too. Ivan told him he'd never seen someone's physique change so quickly. Danny could flex in the mirror now, and begin to see muscle showing thru his fat. He was doing so well, in fact, that Ivan dropped all his other clients, and began to work solely with Danny. He also told Danny to start taking two or three of his pills a day. Danny didn't see any reason not to, he liked the way they made him feel...stronger, more confident, more energy. Even his skin had improved, his acne clearing up, and the tone changing from a pasty, almost ashen, pallor, to a tanner, almost golden shine,. The hair on his head was changing too. He'd always had thick, dishwater blond hair, with weird cowlicks that made it stick out funny no matter what he did to it. Now, it was coming in blonder and even thicker, and all he had to do was run his hand thru it in the morning, and it went perfectly into place, like he'd had it styled. He was getting more hair on his face and chest, too, which was more of a chestnut color that seemed to glisten with health. And his body's scent had changed, from what used to make his room smell like sour milk, to an aroma of leather and clove and a masculine musk that gave him a hard-on when he smelled his own arm pit. And speaking of his dick. Once he'd hit puberty, his dick grew to a decent size for a dweeby, awkward kid. It was a good six inches, and pretty thick. He jerked off in his room twice, sometimes three times a day. But since he'd started working out with Ivan, he felt it getting plumper and thicker. And he felt much more intense pleasure when he touched it. Heck, he didn't even have to touch it, it was constantly in search of pleasure even as it rubbed up against his pant legs. And at night, he was having intense wet dreams that were vastly more vivid and lifelike than before he starting lifting and taking Ivan's vitamins. Sometimes he woke up just in time to finish himself off with his hand, and the sensation was tenfold more intense than he'd ever experienced. All these changes to his former self paled in comparison to his fat loss. After a month of lifting, Ivan had calibrated his body fat going from a nasty 28% down to 18%. He was starting to see his muscles, and even some veins. He liked it more than he'd ever thought he would, especially after his workouts. Ivan had him do pushups to failure after his chest workout. Ivan explained to him about the pump, and Danny couldn't believe how good it felt. It was like his whole body was a big, engorged cock, swollen tight and full with the Pump. He started doing pushups at home after he'd gone up to bed, just to feel his chest pump up again. Soon, the pushups weren't enough, and he started putting his feet up on his bed to put more weight on his upper torso, and when that wasn't enough he did handstands up against the wall, and would do pushup after pushup until his chest was engorged with bloat. After awhile of that, he found that his coordination had increased so much that he could hold a handstand and still do pushups, his nose tapping the floor over and over as his reps increased to over 25. Once he'd finished a couple sets, his delts, traps, and chest would look like someone had morphed a picture of him. He still weighted 250lbs, but his entire body shape had altered. And he'd gotten so cocky after one month of training, that he was challenging Ivan to one-armed pushup contests, and beating his trainer. Ivan hated losing, but he loved that Danny was so into improving, so he started adding in some wrestling and mma fighting lessons. Danny was surprised that he remembered some of the basic moves of wrestling from his short time on the team when he was a freshman. The biggest problem he'd had back then was a total lack of stamina. After about 30 seconds of practice, he would be gasping for breath, and feeling like he was going to have a heart attack. Now, after a mere month of training with Ivan, he felt like he could grapple all day. He never seemed to get winded, and could move the 220lb Ivan around the mats with relative ease, or lift him into a fireman's carry and walk around with him over his shoulder. Ivan started having Danny use him for squats. He loved the way that made his thick legs swell with pump. The second month into training Danny made even bigger strides in his size and strength. One morning in the kitchen, he bumped into his dad and nearly sent him flying across the room. "Geezus, son," said his father, rubbing his shoulder. "It felt like I just walked into a wall." Danny was still wearing his oversized 4XL tee shirts that he used to wear to hide his fat, so it was hard to tell just how much muscle he'd put on. "Yeah, Dad, I'm getting kinda jacked up," said Danny, and then he pulled back the sleeve of his tee shirt and flexed his arms. His dad's eyes almost popped out. "My god, Danny, your arm is huge!" "I know, right? Feel it." His dad reached out and put both his hands around Danny's big arm peak. "What the....? Your arm is like a boulder!" said his dad. "Yeah, pretty close. Ivan measured it at 18.5 inches the other day, and that was before I did curls. He says that's pretty big for someone my age. I can probably lift you right off the ground now." He grabbed his dad by his belt, and curled him up until his feet were dangling off the floor. His dad put his hands on Danny's big shoulders to balance himself, and he couldn't believe the thickness and solidness of his son's delts. And it dawned on Danny that he was now, for the first time, vastly stronger than his father. "I can't believe it, son. I mean, I could tell your body was changing, but this is unbelievable!" "Yeah, it's pretty cool. Look at this," and Danny put his dad down, then stripped his tee shirt up over his head and tossed it aside. His father gasped as he soaked in the vision of his young son. He was hated to admit it, but he had often been embarrassed or ashamed of how fat and dorky his son had gotten growing up. Now, he could barely believe his eyes. His son looked like Clay Matthews of the Packers standing in front of him, except with shorter hair and a thicker neck. He realized for the first time how much Danny's features had changed over the past month. His jaw jutted out, and his cheekbones stood out more. He still had bulk on him, but his dad could see abs starting to show thru his newly leaned down gut. Danny noticed him looking at his waist, and he tightened up his abs. "Ivan thinks I could get an 8 pack if I work hard enough," said Danny, strumming his stomach with his fingers. A 6 pack was already starting to show. "He says I must have always had a latent genetic potential for muscle size and strength." Danny's dad had to agree. He'd noticed for a long time that Danny seemed unusually strong for a kid that never played sports or did much of any physical activity. That's why he'd hired Ivan to train Danny in the first place, to see where it would lead. Still, he was shocked by the rapid changes in his son. "Hey, Dad," Danny said suddenly, as an idea came to him. "Remember how you used to make me arm wrestle you? Let's try it now." Danny clenched his right hand into a fist, and the muscles of his arm responded by flexing hard. His dad gulped a little as he noticed the network of veins that were starting to pop out on his son's thick forearm. He also noticed that Danny's hands, which he had always thought of as chubby and soft, now looked more like solid beef. His fingers looked almost twice as thick as his dad's. Ivan had been making Danny train his grip along with the rest of his training. He'd given Danny a set of level 1 metal grippers the first week they started. Danny had closed the with ease, and after doing twenty reps with no problem, Ivan dug out a pair of level 3 grippers. Danny said, "Oh yeh, these are harder to close," but was still able to make the ends tap together like castanets. "Geezus," muttered Ivan to himself. He gave Danny a set of level 4s, the toughest level the grippers came in. Ivan had only seen one guy close them, a big powerlifter he worked with at his construction job, and he could only get about 5 or 6 reps. Danny took them, wrapped his thick fingers around them, and squeezed them shut. After ten reps, he said, "Yeh, that was a lot harder." He switched the grippers to his left hand and did ten reps with them. "Can I take these home to play with them, Ivan," he asked. "They're making my forearms feel super tight." "Yeh, yeh, take them," said Ivan, stunned by the hand strength of his nerdy fatboy client. "Play as much as you want, kid." A month later, and the kid could hold the ends of the #4 grippers together for ten minutes. The metal was dented in a little from his grip. And he was now ready to arm wrestle his dad for the first time in about a year. They sat down at the kitchen table opposite of each other. Danny's old man wasn't sure what to expect, but his heart was beating fast as he continued to realize the changes in his son's physique. He felt somewhat guilty about the times he'd made Danny arm wrestle him in the past. There was no way his chubby teen son could beat him, and he never let him, but partly he was hoping that it would spur the kid into getting more fit. That had never worked. Up to now. Danny put his arm up on the table and his dad followed suit. They gripped up, and again the older man was shocked by the thick beefiness in his son's hand. "You say 'go', Dad," said Danny. "OK....1...2...3.....GO." Danny slammed his dad's hand to the table. It took under a second. "You must not have been ready," said Danny. "Do it again." And they did. With the same result. "You're not really trying," said Danny, but it was dawning on him that his dad was trying with all his might. "Do it again." And they did. A third time. Then a fourth. Dany began to realize that not only was he stronger than his dad, but that he was vastly stronger. It chubbed him up. "Try again, only this time I'll just use my little finger," said Danny, feeling cocky. He stuck out his pinky finger and slid it against his dad's palm. His dad was feeling the opposite of chubbed up, as his dick retreated and shrank up in his pants. His son was about to beat him in arm wrestling using only one finger. He was right. This time, Danny said Go, and down went his father's arm. Even Danny was amazed by the strength in his little finger. He could feel the muscle of his finger bulging as he slowly took his dad's hand down to the table. "Fuck," they both said, but for different reasons. Danny was feeling a surge of what it felt like to be superhuman. He stood up from the table, the only part of him that could still be called "chubby" showing thru his sweat pants like a club. He stuck his hand down his waistband and adjusted himself with his powerful fingers. "I gotta take a shower," Danny said, and headed upstairs. His dad stayed at the table, drained, and stunned. His son's formerly fat ass rolled with thick muscle as he headed to the stairs. Danny got into the shower and began to flex and feel his own muscles. The muscles that had just owned his father in arm wrestling. "Fuck," groaned Danny, as he soaped himself up and rubbed his big arm, so heavy with thick muscle. He traced the pencil-thick veins that were bulging out of his forearm with his finger, down until he followed the palm of his hand to his little finger...the finger than had twice the strength of his dad's whole arm. He stroked the thick pinkie finger and felt the muscle in it. "God damn, so strong..."he moaned. Then he soaped up his engorged dick and started jerking himself off. He thought about how he could out-bench Ivan now, and how Ivan would add more and more weight to the bar, everyday. Everyday, he was getting stronger, bigger, freakier. He thought about what he might do if he ran into one of the jocks who taunted him in school. He had more muscle than any of them now. The thought of it made him stroke his ten incher harder and harder, till he sprayed all over the shower tile. Rope after rope, washing down the walls and into the drain. "Whoa, that was good," Danny said to himself, letting the hot shower water splash over his 50 inch chest. "I definitely have to look one of those guys up." Ivan basically had him pinned down to the bed, as he continued to rub him down, telling him to relax, that the pain would get better. And soon the pain did become more tolerable, as Ivan loosened up his tight muscle fibers and throbbing tendons. And then, the pain of the rubdown began to become pleasure. By the time Ivan finished, Danny felt 100 percent better. "How did you do that?" he asked Ivan. "That was like a miracle. I didn't think I'd be able to walk!" Ivan laughed. "You are funny, kid. I was pretty sure you'd never be back for another workout if I didn't come over and loosen you up today." "Will it always hurt like that the day after?" "Nah. Your body will adjust fast. But I have something for you that will help." Ivan pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket and handed it to Danny. "Take one of these a day. It's like a vitamin. I know you don't believe it, but you've got potential, kid. If you stick with me, you'll see changes in your body you never dreamed of." Danny wasn't sure what 'like a vitamin' meant, but he grabbed the bottle of water that was on his nightstand and swallowed down a pill. "I'll see you tonight for your second workout," said Ivan, as he got ready to leave. "Tonight?" asked Danny. "I thought I was only working out three days a week." "Three days in not enough for the progress we will make with you, kid. We are on six days a week schedule now." Danny wanted to vomit. But he could tell there was no arguing with his big trainer. He was pretty sure that Ivan would come and drag him to the gym if he didn't show up, so he resigned himself to his fate. As it turned out, once Danny got past that first week, his body adjusted enough to the workouts that he was never so insanely sore again. He was still achy ever morning, but he realized that he kind of liked the feeling. And it went away with his next workout, so that he began to look forward to lifting, much to his surprise. His progress was rapid too. Ivan told him he'd never seen someone's physique change so quickly. Danny could flex in the mirror now, and begin to see muscle showing thru his fat. He was doing so well, in fact, that Ivan dropped all his other clients, and began to work solely with Danny. He also told Danny to start taking two or three of his pills a day. Danny didn't see any reason not to, he liked the way they made him feel...stronger, more confident, more energy. Even his skin had improved, his acne clearing up, and the tone changing from a pasty, almost ashen, pallor, to a tanner, almost golden shine,. The hair on his head was changing too. He'd always had thick, dishwater blond hair, with weird cowlicks that made it stick out funny no matter what he did to it. Now, it was coming in blonder and even thicker, and all he had to do was run his hand thru it in the morning, and it went perfectly into place, like he'd had it styled. He was getting more hair on his face and chest, too, which was more of a chestnut color that seemed to glisten with health. And his body's scent had changed, from what used to make his room smell like sour milk, to an aroma of leather and clove and a masculine musk that gave him a hard-on when he smelled his own arm pit. And speaking of his dick. Once he'd hit puberty, his dick grew to a decent size for a dweeby, awkward kid. It was a good six inches, and pretty thick. He jerked off in his room twice, sometimes three times a day. But since he'd started working out with Ivan, he felt it getting plumper and thicker. And he felt much more intense pleasure when he touched it. Heck, he didn't even have to touch it, it was constantly in search of pleasure even as it rubbed up against his pant legs. And at night, he was having intense wet dreams that were vastly more vivid and lifelike than before he starting lifting and taking Ivan's vitamins. Sometimes he woke up just in time to finish himself off with his hand, and the sensation was tenfold more intense than he'd ever experienced. All these changes to his former self paled in comparison to his fat loss. After a month of lifting, Ivan had calibrated his body fat going from a nasty 28% down to 18%. He was starting to see his muscles, and even some veins. He liked it more than he'd ever thought he would, especially after his workouts. Ivan had him do pushups to failure after his chest workout. Ivan explained to him about the pump, and Danny couldn't believe how good it felt. It was like his whole body was a big, engorged cock, swollen tight and full with the Pump. He started doing pushups at home after he'd gone up to bed, just to feel his chest pump up again. Soon, the pushups weren't enough, and he started putting his feet up on his bed to put more weight on his upper torso, and when that wasn't enough he did handstands up against the wall, and would do pushup after pushup until his chest was engorged with bloat. After awhile of that, he found that his coordination had increased so much that he could hold a handstand and still do pushups, his nose tapping the floor over and over as his reps increased to over 25. Once he'd finished a couple sets, his delts, traps, and chest would look like someone had morphed a picture of him. He still weighted 250lbs, but his entire body shape had altered. And he'd gotten so cocky after one month of training, that he was challenging Ivan to one-armed pushup contests, and beating his trainer. Ivan hated losing, but he loved that Danny was so into improving, so he started adding in some wrestling and mma fighting lessons. Danny was surprised that he remembered some of the basic moves of wrestling from his short time on the team when he was a freshman. The biggest problem he'd had back then was a total lack of stamina. After about 30 seconds of practice, he would be gasping for breath, and feeling like he was going to have a heart attack. Now, after a mere month of training with Ivan, he felt like he could grapple all day. He never seemed to get winded, and could move the 220lb Ivan around the mats with relative ease, or lift him into a fireman's carry and walk around with him over his shoulder. Ivan started having Danny use him for squats. He loved the way that made his thick legs swell with pump. The second month into training Danny made even bigger strides in his size and strength. One morning in the kitchen, he bumped into his dad and nearly sent him flying across the room. "Geezus, son," said his father, rubbing his shoulder. "It felt like I just walked into a wall." Danny was still wearing his oversized 4XL tee shirts that he used to wear to hide his fat, so it was hard to tell just how much muscle he'd put on. "Yeah, Dad, I'm getting kinda jacked up," said Danny, and then he pulled back the sleeve of his tee shirt and flexed his arms. His dad's eyes almost popped out. "My god, Danny, your arm is huge!" "I know, right? Feel it." His dad reached out and put both his hands around Danny's big arm peak. "What the....? Your arm is like a boulder!" said his dad. "Yeah, pretty close. Ivan measured it at 18.5 inches the other day, and that was before I did curls. He says that's pretty big for someone my age. I can probably lift you right off the ground now." He grabbed his dad by his belt, and curled him up until his feet were dangling off the floor. His dad put his hands on Danny's big shoulders to balance himself, and he couldn't believe the thickness and solidness of his son's delts. And it dawned on Danny that he was now, for the first time, vastly stronger than his father. "I can't believe it, son. I mean, I could tell your body was changing, but this is unbelievable!" "Yeah, it's pretty cool. Look at this," and Danny put his dad down, then stripped his tee shirt up over his head and tossed it aside. His father gasped as he soaked in the vision of his young son. He was hated to admit it, but he had often been embarrassed or ashamed of how fat and dorky his son had gotten growing up. Now, he could barely believe his eyes. His son looked like Clay Matthews of the Packers standing in front of him, except with shorter hair and a thicker neck. He realized for the first time how much Danny's features had changed over the past month. His jaw jutted out, and his cheekbones stood out more. He still had bulk on him, but his dad could see abs starting to show thru his newly leaned down gut. Danny noticed him looking at his waist, and he tightened up his abs. "Ivan thinks I could get an 8 pack if I work hard enough," said Danny, strumming his stomach with his fingers. A 6 pack was already starting to show. "He says I must have always had a latent genetic potential for muscle size and strength." Danny's dad had to agree. He'd noticed for a long time that Danny seemed unusually strong for a kid that never played sports or did much of any physical activity. That's why he'd hired Ivan to train Danny in the first place, to see where it would lead. Still, he was shocked by the rapid changes in his son. "Hey, Dad," Danny said suddenly, as an idea came to him. "Remember how you used to make me arm wrestle you? Let's try it now." Danny clenched his right hand into a fist, and the muscles of his arm responded by flexing hard. His dad gulped a little as he noticed the network of veins that were starting to pop out on his son's thick forearm. He also noticed that Danny's hands, which he had always thought of as chubby and soft, now looked more like solid beef. His fingers looked almost twice as thick as his dad's. Ivan had been making Danny train his grip along with the rest of his training. He'd given Danny a set of level 1 metal grippers the first week they started. Danny had closed the with ease, and after doing twenty reps with no problem, Ivan dug out a pair of level 3 grippers. Danny said, "Oh yeh, these are harder to close," but was still able to make the ends tap together like castanets. "Geezus," muttered Ivan to himself. He gave Danny a set of level 4s, the toughest level the grippers came in. Ivan had only seen one guy close them, a big powerlifter he worked with at his construction job, and he could only get about 5 or 6 reps. Danny took them, wrapped his thick fingers around them, and squeezed them shut. After ten reps, he said, "Yeh, that was a lot harder." He switched the grippers to his left hand and did ten reps with them. "Can I take these home to play with them, Ivan," he asked. "They're making my forearms feel super tight." "Yeh, yeh, take them," said Ivan, stunned by the hand strength of his nerdy fatboy client. "Play as much as you want, kid." A month later, and the kid could hold the ends of the #4 grippers together for ten minutes. The metal was dented in a little from his grip. And he was now ready to arm wrestle his dad for the first time in about a year. They sat down at the kitchen table opposite of each other. Danny's old man wasn't sure what to expect, but his heart was beating fast as he continued to realize the changes in his son's physique. He felt somewhat guilty about the times he'd made Danny arm wrestle him in the past. There was no way his chubby teen son could beat him, and he never let him, but partly he was hoping that it would spur the kid into getting more fit. That had never worked. Up to now. Danny put his arm up on the table and his dad followed suit. They gripped up, and again the older man was shocked by the thick beefiness in his son's hand. "You say 'go', Dad," said Danny. "OK....1...2...3.....GO." Danny slammed his dad's hand to the table. It took under a second. "You must not have been ready," said Danny. "Do it again." And they did. With the same result. "You're not really trying," said Danny, but it was dawning on him that his dad was trying with all his might. "Do it again." And they did. A third time. Then a fourth. Dany began to realize that not only was he stronger than his dad, but that he was vastly stronger. It chubbed him up. "Try again, only this time I'll just use my little finger," said Danny, feeling cocky. He stuck out his pinky finger and slid it against his dad's palm. His dad was feeling the opposite of chubbed up, as his dick retreated and shrank up in his pants. His son was about to beat him in arm wrestling using only one finger. He was right. This time, Danny said Go, and down went his father's arm. Even Danny was amazed by the strength in his little finger. He could feel the muscle of his finger bulging as he slowly took his dad's hand down to the table. "Fuck," they both said, but for different reasons. Danny was feeling a surge of what it felt like to be superhuman. He stood up from the table, the only part of him that could still be called "chubby" showing thru his sweat pants like a club. He stuck his hand down his waistband and adjusted himself with his powerful fingers. "I gotta take a shower," Danny said, and headed upstairs. His dad stayed at the table, drained, and stunned. His son's formerly fat ass rolled with thick muscle as he headed to the stairs. Danny got into the shower and began to flex and feel his own muscles. The muscles that had just owned his father in arm wrestling. "Fuck," groaned Danny, as he soaped himself up and rubbed his big arm, so heavy with thick muscle. He traced the pencil-thick veins that were bulging out of his forearm with his finger, down until he followed the palm of his hand to his little finger...the finger than had twice the strength of his dad's whole arm. He stroked the thick pinkie finger and felt the muscle in it. "God damn, so strong..."he moaned. Then he soaped up his engorged dick and started jerking himself off. He thought about how he could out-bench Ivan now, and how Ivan would add more and more weight to the bar, everyday. Everyday, he was getting stronger, bigger, freakier. He thought about what he might do if he ran into one of the jocks who taunted him in school. He had more muscle than any of them now. The thought of it made him stroke his ten incher harder and harder, till he sprayed all over the shower tile. Rope after rope, washing down the walls and into the drain. "Whoa, that was good," Danny said to himself, letting the hot shower water splash over his 50 inch chest. "I definitely have to look one of those guys up."
  10. Happy birthday big guy!

     

  11. muscle-growth

    That was wicked good, man.
  12. Just the other day, Atomicmuscle posted a gif on here of Spiderman punching Superman's steel abs. Check it out in the forum gallery.
  13. Chris Pratt with 75lbs more muscle. Chris Pine, same thing. Chris Evans, with 100lbs more muscle than his Captain America physique. Vin Diesel at 300 swole pounds and a roid gut. Garret Dillahunt, the dad from Raising Hope. He and Sean Penn as training partners, both becoming middle-aged, jacked superheavyweights, all ripped up and veiny, outposing the pros at Gold's Gym in Venice. Shia LaBeouf, all roided up, challenging 4 policemen to try and take him down.
  14. growth

    That was a rush, man. Outstanding descriptions!