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bbmikenj

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About bbmikenj

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  • Birthday 07/01/60

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    Male
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    Gay
  • What are your interests?
    Muscle, bodybuilding, power, size, strength
  • What are your stats?
    5'8, 200lbs solid
  • What are your dream stats?
    5'8, 240
  • Favorite Bodybuilders
    Ramy, Wolf, Warren, Flex Lewis, Bautista, etc...

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  1. 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."
  2. 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."
  3. 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."
  4. The Warlord was definitely worth holding out for.
  5. Yeh, sorry about the posting glitch.
  6. 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."
  7. Happy birthday big guy!

     

  8. muscle-growth

    That was wicked good, man.
  9. Just the other day, Atomicmuscle posted a gif on here of Spiderman punching Superman's steel abs. Check it out in the forum gallery.
  10. 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.
  11. growth

    That was a rush, man. Outstanding descriptions!
  12. dominance

    Bane found the entrance to the Batcave. It wasn't hard for him. He was an expert at tracking, and it was easy for him to spot the fake shrubbery that hid the gate that led to the entrance. He knew there would be security cameras, so he bolted up to the entrance, his huge quads moving him faster than the fastest Olympic runner. He got to the big metal doorway and slammed it with his big fists, denting it in enough to get a handhold. Then he peeled open the entrance with his bare hands. He twisted the steel back on itself until the opening was big enough for him to step through. He stood in front of the Batmobile as Batman came into the cave to see why the alarms were going off. "Bane!" he said, as he spotted the behemoth intruder. "How???" Batman stammered as he stared at the doorway. "With these," said Bane, raising his huge arms into a double bi shot. The peaks rose up and up, snaked with veins, jacked with power, and hard as granite. "But that door is made of galvanized steel reinforced with titanium rods. You can't be that strong!" "No?" said Bane. Then he took his raised fists and slammed them into the hood of the Batmobile with such force that the hood crumpled in, and all four tires blew up. Batman jumped back from the sound of it. Then Bane ripped the hood off the car, and tossed it out through the doorway opening. He leaned toward the car, reached in and grabbed the engine block, then ripped it out, raising it over his head. He shook it with his powerful arms, then squeezed in on it until it started to crumple. As oil began to spill out of the block, Bane tipped his head back, opened his mouth, and drank it down. Then he crushed to engine block down even more, until it was half its original size. He reared it back behind his head, then tossed it directly towards Batman, who ducked just in time, and the one ton twisted engine soared over him, and embedded itself into the rock wall of the cave. Bane grabbed the Batmobile with one hand and tipped the car onto its side, so that nothing now stood between him and Batman. He took of his mask and the tubing and laid them on the side of the car. Then he took of his vest, so that his torso was bare. Batman took another step back. He'd never seen Bane looking so densely thick and heavily muscled. Even his jaw line was more squared off and jutting with muscle. Bane rolled his huge chest slabs and took a step towards Batman. "Now you've got me all riled up," Bane said. "Where's your girlfriend Robin? I need to get laid." Bane grabbed his crotch and shifted his junk around. "He's not here," said Batman. But for a millisecond, his eyes darted over towards a side tunnel in the cave. "You're a terrible liar, Batshit," said Bane, and made his way towards the tunnel. Batman jumped in front of him. "You'll have to go thru me first, Bane." Bane smirked, and said, "That can be arrange." He grabbed one of the flattened tires on the Batmobile, and ripped it off, sending lug nuts flying like bullets thru the cave. Then he threw the tire at Batman like a frisbee. It hit Batman in the stomach, and sent him fly backwards, his feet off the ground. He slammed into a computer terminal, crushing it. Before he could stagger to his feet, Bane was standing over him. "Let me give you a hand," he said, reaching down. Before Batman realized his mistake, he reached up, and Bane grabbed his hand and yanked him up roughly. "Your grip strength gotten any better, Batpunk?" said Bane, not releasing Batman's gloved hand. Batman tried to pull away, but Bane's arm didn't budge. He began to squeeze. Even thru his special gloves, Batman could feel his bones start to break. He grabbed Bane's forearm with his free hand and tried to dig into it, but the forearm muscles were like steel cables. Bane continued to crush his hand. Batman swung his fist into Bane's jaw, but he only managed to break his knuckles on the hard bone and thick muscle of Bane's face. Bane squeezed harder still, and Batman's knees buckled. Bane stepped forward and forced Batman onto his back. "I'd forgotten how weak you are," Bane said, leaning over Batman and putting his thumb on Batman's collar bone. "I could snap this bone like a toothpick," said Bane. Instead, Bane yanks Batman back to his feet, only to clothesline the caped crusader across his chest, sending him down to the batcave floor and shattering his sternum. Batman gasped for breath as Bane bent over and shoved his big hand underneath Batman's head. He gripped Batman's caped head like a soccer ball, and lifted Batman back up. Bane flexed his free arm. "Kiss my 36 inch peak, punk," he commanded. He shoved Batman's face into the side of his mountainous arm. "Make love to it, you know you want to," Bane said. "So fuckin huge. So fuckin strong," he said, as he banged Batman's face into his massive, veiny arm over and over, until he crushed Batman's nose thru his mask. Then he held Batman airborne with one hand on the back of his head, and started squeezing harder, his huge fingers applying more pressure than a mechanical vice. Batman felt like his eyes were going to pop out, and his skull crush in. He flinched uselessly, and then his sight started to fade. "Bet that feels like the worst ice cream headache ever, huh Bruce," mocked Bane. Batman blacked out from the crushing skull grip, and hung there limply in Bane's grip. Bane dropped him to the floor like a microphone in a rap battle. "Pathetic," he muttered. Just then, from the side tunnel of the Batcave, Robin appeared. "Bane!!" he said, as he saw the massive bull of a man straddling the fallen Batman. Bane smiled, and crushed his fists into balls of destruction. His big knuckles cracked and whitened from the strength of his grip. "Hello, little birdie," he said. "Come to Daddy." Robin grabbed a cable that was hanging from the top of the cave, then he ran up along the side of the cave walls and launched himself into the air in a big arc, aiming right toward Bane. He picked up tremendous speed as he slammed feet first into Bane's huge barrel chest. Bane didn't budge an inch. Robin fell to the ground in agony, grabbing his ankles. He felt like he had slammed into a bank vault. "Aww, did the little bird boy hurt his little legs?" mocked Bane. He leaned over and grabbed Robin by his ankles, one in each thick superhuman hand. Then he lifted him off the ground. Robin hung there upside down. Bane squeezed his hands and felt the ankle bones crushing underneath his powerful grip. "Boy, your little bird bones are fragile as egg shells," he said, as Robin twisted in pain. Bane dropped him to the floor and looked down over him. "Bet you never felt pain like this before, have ya, boy?" Robin couldn't even respond, the pain was so overwhelming. "You want me to fix that pain, birdie?" asked Bane. That got Robin's attention. He'd do anything to stop the agony in his ankles. He nodded best as he could. Bane leaned over and grabbed Robin by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up. He pressed Robin's mouth onto his big nipple. "Suck on it, boy blunder," ordered Bane. At first, Robin resisted, pushing back on Bane's granite chest mounds, but then Bane tightened the grip he had on his neck, and Robin knew he had no choice. He started nursing on the thick nub of a muscle nip. He felt it swelling up inside his mouth, and it made him suck harder. "Oh yeh, that's it, baby boy," said Bane, pushing Robin's face harder into his huge chest. Robin felt Bane's nip swelling to the size of his thumb. "Harder." And Robin sucked and sucked. Then he tasted a thick oily substance oozing out of the thick nip. It tasted chemically, almost metallic, but good, and hot. It made him suck harder still. "That's it boy. You'll be feeling it soon, too." And as soon as Bane said that, Robin began to feel it. The pain in his ankles started to fade. His whole body relaxed. He sucked harder, and more serum flowed out of Bane's inch long nip. "Oh yeh. You getting a good dose of Venom now," said Bane. "Now do the other nip, balance these meat plugs out, boy," he said, transferring Robin's mouth to his other huge pec slab. And Robin sucked and sucked, hungry for it now, feeling more energized than he ever had. The second nip swelled and began to ooze, even as the first one continued to drip the viscous oil. But then Bane pulled him off the swollen nip with a loud pop. "That's enough for now, chicklet," he said. "Too much and you wouldn't be able to handle it." He put Robin down to the ground, then he flicked his pacifier-sized nips with his burly thumbs. "You did a good job of working these bad boys. I knew you'd be a good sucker." Robin expected his ankles to give out as he stood, but he had no pain whatsoever. He jumped up and down on them, amazed. Not only did they not hurt, but he felt liked he'd taken the most amazing pre-workout supplement ever. He was so charged up, he wanted to fly. "What happened?" "You got a nice shot of some miracle oil, little man. Not only have your ankle bones healed, they're probably ten times stronger than they were before. Same with the rest of your bones. And soon you're going to find out what else it will do for you." Robin was already feeling it. His body was heating up, like he had an intense fever, but it felt amazing. He could feel the green briefs of his outfit begin to tighten on him as his glutes swelled outward. He looked down and saw his bare quads and calves swelling out. They'd always been lean and fit, but now they were bulging with muscle the size of a light-heavyweight bodybuilder.. He could see leg veins starting to show thru his skin, and snake their way down to his calves, which looked to be over 19 inches now. And a thick stubble was starting to sprout out on his formerly hairless skin. "What's happening?" he said, and Bane replied, "Look in that mirror over there and see." Robin turned and looked, and saw that not only was he getting thicker and wider, but he was getting taller. He was sweating heavily, and it was soaking thru his outfit. Robin's abs had never really shown before, but now, he had a stack of bricks and mortar showing thru his red vest. He flexed his abs, and they popped out even more defined. "Holy washboards," he said in awe. "Flex those arms too, boy," said Bane, and Robin did as he was told, raising his arms into a double bi shot. The peaks rose up and up, and pushed back the short green sleeves of his shirt, which looked 3 sizes too small on him now and slid halfway up his stomach, exposing his brickwall gut. His arms peaked out at 21" of veiny sinew. "Holy Muscle Mass," he exclaimed. Bane chuckled behind him. Robin grabbed the collar of his outfit and ripped it down the middle, exposing his now thickly muscle torso that was shredded beyond the dreams of any pro bodybuilder. His slightest movement made the muscles ripple and striate. He tore the top of his outfit off and tossed it aside. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like a statue of hypermasculinity, with thick course hair beginning to cover his expanding chest, which grew bigger every time he flexed his pecs. His green trunks now fit him like the smallest of posers, and were barely containing his impressive new growth. "Fuckkkk," he said. "How big were you before?" said Bane, "About 5'10", 170lbs soaking wet? You're bigger than Batman now, boy. Bigger, stronger, faster. I'd say you're about 6'5", and 270lbs right now. You'll get a little bigger too, but it will stop before you hit 300lbs. If I'd let you keep feeding," he said, flicking his protruding rubber-hard nips," you'd have grown too much, and probably gone insane. The other thing you're going to be feeling is intense horniness. And I mean 'intense'. It's going to hit you like you took 1000 doses of Viagra. You're going to want to fuck the first thing you can grab. Just pin it down and rape it. You won't be able to control it, at least not at first. And since I'm going to trap you and Batman in here together, things should get interesting. Your seed will help him heal too, although he won't respond like you did, it won't be potent enough for that. His bones will heal, though, but not as well as yours, and he'll feel pain in them for the rest of his life." Bane made his way to one of the tunnels leading out of the Batcave. He ripped a huge boulder out of the wall and used it to block the exit. "Oh, and you're going to be jonesing for more of my nip oil, probably for the rest of your life too. You're going to want more and more and more, like an profound type of crack addiction. Who can blame you, really? Look at you. And maybe, someday I'll give it to you. But for now," said Bane, using his bare hands to rip solid rock from the cave wall and blocking another tunnel, "you'll have to make due." Then he made his way to the main entrance of the cave, and stepped outside. He bent the titanium and steel wall like used aluminum foil, but before he blocked the entrance, he looked at Robin, whose horniness was mounting. Robin was breathing like a bull, his nostrils flared, his massive new muscle body twitching with lust and shining with sweat, and as he looked around the cave, his eyes landed on Batman, who was beginning to come to and push himself up on all fours. Bane laughed, and as he sealed the cave, he said, "Have fun, Boy Wonder. Don't do anything I wouldn't do......"
  13. worship

    Two months had gone by since George arrived in Japan to be a sumo wrestler. Over twenty matches later, George was undefeated. He had no trouble out-powering his opponents. Most of his matches lasted less than three seconds, although sometimes he would make them last longer, keeping his opponent inside the ring for longer than he needed to, toying with them, making them struggle until they were huffing and puffing. Although he had bulked up to 410lbs, George was still much more densely packed with muscle than any of his blubbery adversaries. Even the men who weighed more than he did were no challenge for his strength, and his stamina was three times more than anyone he'd come up against so far. As he stood looking out of his floor-to-ceiling condo windows, overlooking downtown Tokyo, George admired the view. Partly because he could see himself in the reflection of the windows, and he could watch himself flexing his massive bulk, but also because he could see the big sign promoting him as the newest superstar in sumo wrestling. It was an eight-story high hologram of George in his sumo gear, towering over Tokyo, stomping and flexing in victory. The top of the sign announced the nicknamed he'd been given. Georgezilla. He had become an overnight sensation in Japan, and not a night would go by where some people didn't faint in the street at the sight of George's mass towering over them, at the huge projection of his tremendous bulk. From his 30th floor condo, he had an unrestricted view of his image. He flexed and posed right along with his hologram, and thought about his next fight. The thought of being the next grand champion sumo wrestler turned him on. And he always enjoyed stroking himself after his two hour hardcore workout, his 400-plus pounds all bloated with pump and power, the sensation in his big dick supercharged from his surging testosterone flow. He needed Mr Sanata to come up and service him. George texted him to come up, and since the former sumo champ lived only ten floors below George's condo, it didn't take him long to arrive. Mr Sanata jumped at every chance to suck George dry. He was sure that George's big loads were making him grow bigger and stronger, even as he entered his mid-forties. He was training harder and longer than ever too, and his former sumo bulk had leaned down to 12 percent body fat. He had muscle on his muscle, and was planning on entering his first bodybuilding contest. He relished the thought of going on stage with Japanese bodybuilders in their twenties, and outmuscling every one of them like a joke. So he gladly provided service to George, two to three times a day. Tonight, George asked him to do it in front of the window, so George could continue to watch his sign as Mr Sanata worked his magic. George enjoyed Mr Sanata's blow jobs more than anything except growing bigger and stronger himself. Afterwards, Mr Sanata went to the apartment next to George's, which had been converted to a private gym just for the two of them. He stripped down the posers he wore under his dress pants, and worked his chest for two solid hours. His huge Asian pecs stretched his smooth skin tightly across his chest, and glistened with sweat as if they'd been oiled up. He checked himself out in the mirrors after every set, and then would throw in a few dozen hanging leg raises. He couldn't believe his abs were showing. Even standing relaxed he could see them. And when he flexed, they popped out like six neatly stacked bricks. By the time he finished his chest workout, his pecs were swollen like two over-pumped balloons, with his nips pointing straight down. He decided he could use a massage, so he grabbed his phone out of his pants' pocket and called Taka, who was the massage therapist for all the sumo wrestlers in Mr Sanata's old academy, and was on called 24/7. Mr Sanata sent a private car to go pick him up and bring him over, so it didn't take him long to get there. Mr Sanata spent the time waiting by perfecting his posing routine in the huge wall mirrors of the gym. By the time Taka arrived, the retired sumo wrestler's chest was even more fully engorged, as were the rest of his jacked up muscles. "Good luck to you digging through all this hard muscle," he said to Taka, laughing. Taka bowed to the older man, then began to set up his table, his heart pounding harder in his chest at the sight his heavily muscled boss. Taka had grown up adoring the sumo wrestlers he saw on TV. He'd set his sights on becoming a massage therapist for them, just to get close to them. He achieved his goal, but to his dismay, most of the wrestlers were arrogant and rude to him, treating him like a dog, or less than a dog, swatting him if they became displeased with their rubdowns. Often, they were stinking drunk when they came in for their massages, so the slightest transgression would bring one of their bulky arms swinging out at him like a club, sending him flying. He'd become good at dodging them, but his real disappointment was how soft and doughy most of their bodies felt. He'd always imagined them being harder to the touch, like a rhino, or a side of beef, but this was not the case. They had many more creases and folds than he liked, especially as they laid on his reinforced massage table. That's why he was thrilled when Mr Sanata had taken a shine to bodybuilding. Every time Taka came over to rub him down, the older man had gotten harder and harder. Taka's hands had grown very strong, and his forearms disproportionately large from working on the blubbery 400 and 500 pound sumo wrestlers, so he was well prepared to work on more fit muscularity. In fact, his forearms and upper arms were so oversized and veiny for his size that people often stopped and stared at him on the street. Children would ask him if he was Mantaro, the anime muscle character. At 5'9, he was fairly tall for a Japanese man, but at 190lbs, he wasn't huge, just lean and tight, except for his 18" biceps, which he would flex for the kids. He delighted in their squeals of excitement as his arm peaked up 5 or 6 inches bigger than their fathers'. So for the next 90 minutes, he worked on Mr Sanata, fascinated by the change in the older man's muscle since he'd taken up bodybuilding. It was so much more rewarding to work on the thick hard muscle tissue, and to feel the tightness begin to release. And Mr Sanata had always treated him with respect, even when he was still wrestling. The big man would moan with pleasure as Taka found a tension spot and worked on it with extra attention. And Taka loved the feeling of pump his strong arms were getting from digging into the densely packed muscle fibers. After the massage, Mr Sanata got up and got his phone. As he began to text, he said to Taka, "Do you have time for another client?" "Yes, sir, of course," he said, but his hands and arms were still throbbing from working over the big muscles of Mr Sanata. Still, he figured he could handle one more session. Mr Sanata's text was to George, telling him he should come over to the gym, he had a surprise for him. He knew that George had never taken advantage of Taka's services. In fact, George had told him that he'd only ever had one massage. Mr Sanata thought it was time for another. "Your new client lives right next door, so he'll be here any minute. You've never met him before, but I'm sure you'll recognize him when you see him." "Not Georgezilla??" said Taka. Mr Sanata laughed. "How did you guess?" "I'd heard that he lived in the same building as you. I have seen him fight. He's very large and powerful." "That he is," said Mr Sanata. They heard the front door open as George came inside the condo/gym. Mr Sanata went over to him and said, "I have someone I want you to meet," and led him over to Taka. "This is the massage therapist I told you about. Taka, this is George." Taka bowed toward George, and George bowed back. This took Taka by surprise, because none of the other sumo wrestlers bothered to bow back at him, not even the younger ones. Mr Sanata told George to enjoy a massage on him as he packed up his gym bag to head out. George shrugged and figured why not. The only massage he'd ever had was by a small Asian woman back in the states, and it didn't do much for him. This guy at least appeared to have some power in his arms. After Mr Sanata left, Taka asked George to strip down. "Naked?" asked George. Taka said yes, and bowed again. "Unless you would be more comfortable in your shorts?" "Nah," said George, bending down to peel off his basketball shorts that fit his thick quads like stretch pants. "Just didn't want to freak you out." As George pulled down the shorts, his big dick flopped out. "Aremaa...." said Taka, stepping back and bowing again. George was hung at least double that of any of the other wrestlers. George laughed, and got up on the table. Even reinforced as it was, the massage table creaked under the weight of George's body. Taka gulped at the sight of the muscle mountain on the table. He'd never seen anything like it. He got out his massage gel and lubed up his hands, then got to work. It didn't take long for George to realize that Taka was very good with his hands. When he rubbed on George's thick neck and traps, George could sense the tension that was in the muscle loosening up. He hadn't even realized how tense were, as Taka worked down his huge delts and backside. Taka's touch made George grunt out low guttural moans of pleasure. He was surprised at how strong the smaller man's hands were, too, kneading deeply into his hard trained muscle. Taka worked diligently, and his arms began to throb from trying to loosen up the fascia on the massively built bull on his table. By the time he had George roll over onto his back, Taka was dripping with sweat. As he rubbed the soles of his big feet, George almost fainted from the pleasure of it. "Harder," he said, and Taka complied, rubbing deep into the arch. George's hardon rose up so fast that it flopped his towel right onto the floor. When Taka went to retrieve it, George said, "Leave it." Taka continued to work up George's legs, using even more gel to lube up the big man's enormous 24" calves. George's breathing had become as deep and rhythmic as a lion's. He had never known he could feel so good. That is, until Taka reached his quads, and as he ran his magic fingers up and down George's powerful inner thighs, George was hit with a huge wave of euphoria. It was like he was having an out of body experience. He couldn't imagine anything could feel so good. That is until Taka took a hold of George's huge ball sac, and began to stroke and massage it. George lulled back in ecstasy, as Taka rolled his big balls in his fingers, then caressed the sac harder and harder, always attentive to George's expressions and body motions to make sure he wasn't going too hard. Taka was also experiencing ecstasy as he worked on George, who was his dream sumo. As a kid, this is what he'd thought all sumo wrestlers would be like...massively built musclemen, with muscles hard as rhino hide. As a bonus, George was hairy. All the other sumos where basically smooth, but George's massive chest was a pelt of thick black hair. It turned Taka on more than he'd thought it would, and he rubbed his crotch against the table as he watched George's gorilla chest heave up and down. When George glanced over and noticed it, he reached out and grabbed Taka's crotch through his pants. "Ahhhhh" groaned Taka, as George imitated Taka's hand grip on his own balls. Then George sat up, still maintaining his grip. His 10inch hardon pressed against Taka's arm. He looked deep into Taka's eyes, then pulled him halfway up onto the table and kissed him square on the mouth. If Taka's feet hadn't already been dangling off the floor, he would have floated upward. He kissed George back hard, and relished the musky taste of power, and feeling his big shaft against his polo shirt. The massage table began to lean ominously from the weight of the two men. George stepped off the table, still holding Taka in the air, with Taka still groping George's big low hangers. George put him down, then grabbed the bottom of Taka's shirt and pulled it up over his head. "Nice," said George, as he got a look at Taka's tight physique. "My next fight will be for your honor," said George. "Mr Sanata told me how the other wrestlers treat you. Now it's payback time," he said as he caressed Taka's neck. "I'll crush them for you." He raised his arms and flexed his 26" biceps. "Take off your pants," he said to his new Japanese friend. Taka let go of George's big sac, then undid his belt and stepped out of his pants, never taking his eyes off of George's massiveness. His decent sized cock popped out straight. "Nice," said George. He flexed his huge pecs back and forth and watched Taka's dick jump. "You want me to beat them fast, or slow and hard?" "Slow and hard," responded Taka, soaking in George's heaving mass, only inches from his face. "I like slow and hard, too. Keep them in the ring till they are winded and gasping for breath, till they are begging to be thrown out." Taka thought he was going to faint, he was so turned on. George leaned down and picked up the bottle of Taka's massage gel. He turned the bottle upside down and squirted gel all over Taka's cock. Then George grabbed him under his armpits and lifted him off the ground until Taka's lubed-up cock slid up into George's deep pec valley. Using his powerful arms, George slid Taka's body up and down, while flexing his pecs against Taka's hardon, holding the smaller man's body in the air like a skater's lift. "Chest fuck me, Taka," George whispered in his ear. "Give me a cum necklace, little man." Taka could barely process what was going on, as his gelled cock penetrated into the 8-inch deep muscle valley between George's enormous pec mounds. As George held him firmly in the air, Taka thrust himself harder and harder against the powerful chest muscles, grunting into each thrust, finding it hard to believe that he was chest fucking a 410lb gorilla-sized sumo wrestler. He came like ninja, spewing a fountain of pent-up jiz onto George's chest and 26" neck. Afterwards, they got into the shower, where George proceeded to take Taka, slow and hard. He was careful not to split Taka like a melon, and used another whole bottle of gel and steamy hot water to work him open gently. Taka couldn't believe he was able to take the big American's club all the way to the root, but he did it, and came a second time doing it too. He couldn't wait until George's next massage.
  14. The title alone gets me going.