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About bbmikenj

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    real profile.
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    Muscle, bodybuilding, power, size, strength
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    5'8, 200lbs solid
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  1. bbmikenj

    m/m The Interview

    The intercom on his desk phone buzzed, and Tom Beck, the office manager, picked it up. “Mr Beck,” said his secretary Anna, “your ten o’clock interview is here.” “Ok,” said Mr Beck. “But why are you whispering?” “Well, he’s sort of an unusual candidate,” said Anna, still whispering. “Unusual in what way?” “His attire is a little odd, and he’s…he’s kind of a giant.” Mr Beck chuckled to himself. Anna was prone to exaggeration, and being a tiny woman, everyone seemed big to her. The first time he’d met her, her first words were, “My goodness, you’re huge!” At 5’10, 225lbs of pretty solid muscle, Tom certainly wasn’t small, but huge was a word he would not have applied to himself. “Go ahead and send him in, Anna.” “Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tom stood up at his desk as his office door opened. Even with Anna’s warning, he was not quite prepared for what he was seeing. The young man walking thru the doorway had to turn almost sideways to fit his vast shoulder spread into the room. Tom sized him up at a good 6’6” and at least 350lbs of muscle. He came across the room and extended his hand to shake with Tom. “Hello, Mr Beck. I’m Marcus.” As they shook, Marcus’s hand engulfed Tom’s with his beefy palm and sausage sized fingers. “Hello Marcus. Have a seat.” Marcus sat down, and made the office chair he was in look like it came from an elementary school. He was wearing a short-sleeved white dress shirt and black pants. He had a narrow black tie on, but it was loosened, and his top collar button was undone, giving his 24” neck some freedom to show. His huge arms strained the short sleeves, and his big chest strained the shirt buttons. His thighs stretched the gabardine fabric of his pants till it looked thin and shiny. His shirt pocket had a pocket protector in it. He looked like a monster nerd. Tom picked up Marcus’s resume and looked it over, giving himself some time to compose himself. He realized how Anna must feel around people so much bigger than her. It is intimidating just being in their presence. He saw that Marcus had graduated top of his class, and had been captain of his college’s weightlifting squad for all four years. “As you know,” Tom started, “we are a small marketing company representing mostly sportswear businesses and supplement companies, along with some gym franchises and weightlifting wholesalers. It helps to have a sports or fitness background when dealing with our clients. You certainly look like you keep yourself…fit.” Marcus laughed. “Does it show?” he said, then bounced his pecs under his white cotton shirt. “Geezus,” stammered Tom. “I gotta ask, Marcus, just how much do you weigh?” “385lbs this morning,” Marcus answered. Then he flexed his arms into a double biceps shot. The sleeves of his shirt got pushed back as his peaks rose up and up. As they swelled higher, both sleeves ripped. “Damn,” said Marcus. “another shirt ruined. Guess that’s what happens when your arm pass twenty-four inchs, Mr Beck. You like?” Marcus knew muscle lust when he saw it in someone’s eyes, and he was going to milk it to the max. “Holy….”said Tom. “Yep,” smirked Marcus. “ And they just keep on getting bigger. You wanna see my chest, Mr Beck?” Marcus stood up, his huge frame seeming to fill the office. “Why don’t you come over and unbutton my shirt?” Marcus undid his tie and tossed it aside. Tom knew he shouldn’t. He knew. But he stood up anyway, his heart pounding hard. He couldn’t stop himself. He was mesmerized by so much muscle mass right in front of him. He made his way around his desk. Marcus turned to face him, towering over him. “Go ahead,” said Marcus, thrusting his massive chest outward. As Tom reached up for a shirt button, his forearms grazed along the white fabric, feeling the solidness of the protruding pec slabs underneath. He undid one button, then another. The shirt had no choice but to spread open wide, and Tom could see a tattoo on the massive young man’s chest. He undid a third button, and the shirt opened up enough for Tom to see a big “ALPHA” tattoo, all in black ink, across Marcus’s upper chest. Marcus smiled as he saw Mr Beck soaking in his tat, and his swole chest. “Sixty-eight inches of chest and lats, Mr Beck.” He reached down and unbuttoned the remaining buttons, and spread his shirt open, exposing his powerful roidgut. Even though swollen and rounding out, his abs still showed through his tight skin. Marcus flexed his gut muscles and made the ridges deepen around his thick 8-pack. “Oh my god,” said Tom, as he stepped back and leaned against his desk. “Am I ‘fit’ enough?” asked Marcus. “Not too bulked for ya?” “No, no, not at all.” “Here, help me take my shirt off, I’m in the middle of my bulk, so it’s getting harder to maneuver this mass.” “Holy…” said Tom. He walked over behind the massive Marcus and reached up to his collar and started pulling it down. They both struggled to work Marcus out of his shirt, and Tom looked in awe as more and more of the massive landscape of rolling muscle was exposed on Marcus’s huge back. Finally free of his shirt, Marcus shook out his torso, and his muscle seemed to expand even more, and filling the office with the musky scent of testosterone. Tom was able to get his first look at Marcus’s backside. His huge glutes were mounded thick and high, making his dress pants tight as a drum. “God,” said Tom. He put one hand on Marcus’s big back to steady himself. “You ok, Mr Beck?” “You’re hired,” said Tom, feeling just how hard and thick the man’s back was. “What was that?” “You’re hired,” he repeated. “Yeah? Just like that? You haven’t even seen my legs yet.” And with that, Marcus turned to face Tom and began flexing his quads inside his dress pants. The fabric stretched so tightly that Tom could see the veins running up and down Marcus’s huge thighs. “Let’s talk about my salary,” Marcus said. And he flexed hard enough that front of his pant legs started to tear down the middle. “I’ll double it,” stammered Tom, staring at the pants as the swelling quad muscle pushed its way out. “That’s what I like to hear,” said Marcus. Then he shredded his pant legs with his huge muscles. Then he forced his big roidgut out, and the buckle on his dress belt snapped apart like a cheap plastic toy. He then sucked his gut into a deep vacuum pose, and his pants slid down his 37 inch quads and onto his shoes, exposing the black poser he’d been wearing underneath. He stepped out of his Italian loafers and what was left of his pants. “You’re looking a little pale, Mr B,” said Marcus. “If you think I’m big now, just wait until I’m well over 400lbs.” Then he started posing, hitting flex after flex, turning and showing Tom his back double bi, his lat spread, then turning back around and hitting side chest shot, then a most-muscular. Tom gasped at each pose, and his left eye was twitching as he watched the superheavyweight new hire swell with size. “Speaking of which,” said Marcus, continuing to flex, “I’m going to need a pretty big office…” “You can have this one,” said Tom. “That’s mighty big of ya, Mr B. You know, you look pretty jacked up yourself. I used to be as little as you, but then I graduated high school.” Marcus moved toward Tom, until his huge chest was only an inch away from, and level with, Tom’s face. “Suck my nipples, Bossman.” Tom didn’t need to be told twice. He went to work on the big nip jutting out of the huge pec. He put his hands on the bigger man’s pumpkin-sized delts, feeling the thin sheen of sweat coating the rock hard muscle. He sucked and sucked on one nipple till it was engorged. Then he moved to the other side. “Ah, yeah, you got a hot mouth, Bossman. I knew it the minute I walked in here. We’re going to make a great team.” Marcus pulled his new boss mouth off his teat, and went and picked up the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. He wedged the top of the chair underneath the doorknob of the office door. “But first, we’re going to break in my new office,” he said, stepping out of his poser and snapping it at Tom like a rubber band. It hit him in the face, and Tom held it there, breathing in the musk. He reached over and hit his intercom button. “Anna,” he said, “hold all my calls for….” He looked at Marcus. “The next two hours,” said the naked bulked superheavyweight.
  2. A month after Dino had gotten his prostate exam from Doc, and had met up with Ruben, all three of them were living at Doc’s house. Doc had put Dino on the same regiment that he and Ruben were on, and Dino had responded well. Real well. And he wasn’t going for shred so much as for bulk. He’d gained 50lbs in 30 days, and was loving every minute of it. He couldn’t pass by a mirror without getting a big dumb grin on his face. He rub his big hard powerlifter gut, then bounce his big bloated pecs, and snort with pleasure. Then he’d go into the kitchen and make a gallon of mass gainer shake. Doc was buying it in bulk now, bringing it in by containers the size of spackle buckets. The three of them were going thru several buckets a day. On top of the vast quantities of food. They were each taking in tens of thousands of calories a day. Doc was up to 290lbs, and had stayed lean and symmetrical, like an oversized Frank Zane, or Bob Paris. Ruben had muscled up 525lbs. He’d taken to hiking into the woods behind the house for his workouts. He liked to uproot trees, then snap their trunks across the back of his neck. He loved the sound of his power splintering the wood and the feel of his huge traps against the bark as the trunk bent across them until it cracked. He’d toss the splintery remains into one of the ravines that ran deep into the woods. The ravines were full of boulders that he could rip out of the ground and carry them up and down the steep slopes, bloating his monster quads and calves to superhuman proportions. He loved feeling the blowtorch-like burn in his massive thighs as he powered his way up the hillside. On his way back to the house, he’d clothesline more tree trunks with his clublike forearms, snapping them like toothpicks. He felt his loins churning as he used his strength and size to plow through the woods. Local police started getting reports of Sasquatch sightings, and Doc could understand why. When Ruben reappeared in the backyard after several hours in the woods, he looked like a primordial beast, his massive frame covered in dirt, broken bark, leaves, his massive limbs scraped from thorns and branches. Sweat rolled down his torso, turning the dirt into rivulets of mud as it ran down his bulging gutball. He’d be raging to rut with whoever he grabbed first, Doc or Dino. Good thing they weren’t fragile. Ruben raged inside them, his eyes glazed over with lust. Afterwards, Doc would clean him up with rubbing alcohol, cleaning all the debris and scrapes until his skin was shiny and tight on his massive muscles. Then they’d blow each other. It was a good life. Money, however, was a growing concern. Doc had cut way back on his practice, as he was now only taking new patients who already weighed over 300lbs and who wanted much more. Doc came up with the idea of starting a sperm bank after he did DNA tests on his remaining patients, and also Dino and Ruben. All the men turned out to have a high percentage of Neanderthal DNA, which explained their thick powerful bones, heavy limbs, extra thick necks and traps, protruding brows and jutting jawlines. And the ease with which they added slabs of muscle to their already powerful builds. None of them ever got colds or the flu. Doc had their sperm tested too, and found out that the gear they were all on had permanently altered their genetic codes, triggering a stronger response from their Neanderthal chromosomes. Doc got ‘deposits’ from all of them, and marketed it on the dark web, in order to avoid any legal issues. He found a niche market very fast, of people wanting physically superior offspring, and money started pouring in. Dino, to do his part, got a job as a security guard at a nightclub in a seedy part of town. It was known for having a rowdy crowd, especially in the wee hours, but the owners were smart enough to let Dino work with no shirt, and the number of brawls and street fights plummeted immediately. All Dino had to do was strut thru the club, his huge hairy arms sticking out as they rested on top of his barndoor lats, and the place stayed calm for the most part. If some dude got drunk enough to cause trouble, Dino would take them to a dark corner and explain to them how he could deadlift 1200lbs, so what did they think he could do to their fragile little bones. That calmed them right down. That, and having a 350 pound shirtless powerlifting gorilla about an inch from their face. The owners also let Dino get up on stage to put on a muscle show. Dino was a huge hit. Turns out his 350lbs bulk, covered with thick black hair front and back, was a welcome change from the normal strippers the club usually hired. His massive bloated pecs were like two oversized hot water bottles, filled to the max, and he could control them perfectly, bouncing them up and down rhythmically, or heaving them out far and resting a beer mug on each pec, then walking around the stage with them balanced on his magnificent furry slabs. He loved seeing guys get wet spots in their pants as they watch him flex and strut. He knew which ones he could push over the edge by going closer to them and sucking in his big gut, then letting it out. Sucking it in, letting it out, until the pelt of his big ballgut brushed against their noses. Some men fainted from it. Dino would smirk and move onto his next victim, rubbing his thickly muscled gut along the way. He was coming home with thousands of dollars in tips every week. One morning, two cops showed up at the front door of Doc’s house. Doc was at work, and Dino was sleeping in, so when no one answered the door, the cops started snooping around toward the side of the house. Someone had called in about loud noises coming from the area. The cops heard some deep guttural grunting coming from behind the house, so they walked around the side of the house to the backyard. Both of the cops stopped dead in their tracks as they saw a 525lbs Ruben doing curls with an Olympic bar loaded with 405lbs, wearing only a black pair of posers. He grunted out one slow, controlled rep after another, his biceps swelling bigger with each curl. “Holy shit,” stammered the one cop, who was a 21 year-old rookie. “Look at that fucking guy.” “Stay cool, Tom,” said the older cop, even though he was pretty stunned himself. He stepped into the backyard far enough for Ruben to notice him. Ruben saw them, but continued to do his curls. He started counting out reps, grunting 54, 55, 56….until he reached 60, then he dropped the bar to the ground, the plates sinking 4 inches into the sod. He took a step toward the cops and said, “What can I do for you boys?” His voice so deep and strong, the cops felt it in their bones. He casually bounced his massive pecs as he stood before them. He glistened with sweat, and both his huge arms had a vein the size of a garden hose pulsing down them and branching into multiple veins like a river delta. His delts were the size of basketballs, and rippled with thick ropey muscle as he rolled his shoulders up and back. “Jesus,” said the rookie. The older cop said, “Um, we’re just checking out the neighborhood for a noise report.” He was having a hard time not staring at Ruben’s unbelievable torso. “Have you heard anything unusual around here lately?” “Not around here. Unless you mean something like this.” Ruben leaned toward them and flexed into a most-muscular pose. As he did so, he let out a tremendous roar. Muscle swelled up all over him, and veins emerged everywhere, even on his forehead. Both cops staggered backwards. Ruben stepped closer to them, and squeezed into his pose even harder. “Holy crap…” said the rookie, feeling his knees start to buckle. The older cop grabbed him by the arm to steady him. Ruben chuckled at how easy it was to stun the two cops with his mass. “Want a ride?” he said to them, as he grabbed both cops by their belts and lifted them. The cops each weighed around 200lbs, but Ruben was straight-arm lifting them like they were two pillows. Their feet dangled off the ground. Ruben curled them upward, and his huge arms bunched up into boulders that were bigger around than the cops’ waists. He hoisted them straight up overhead and walked around the yard with them. Meanwhile, from an upstairs window, Dino was watching. He’d gotten up when he heard voices, and was now naked and jerking off as he saw Ruben using the two cops like light dumbbells. He was already leaking when Ruben turned and walked toward the back of the yard, his massive, stone-hard glutes bulging out of the sides of his posers. Dino could see the striations in the huge muscle ass even from upstairs. It pushed him right over the edge. He put one big hairy hand on the window frame, and then he spewed all over the window. Ruben put the cops down. Their legs buckled and they went down to their knees. Both of them were hard in their pants. Ruben smiled, then flexed his 8pak roidgut an inch from their faces. Both of them groaned. “Want to touch?” Ruben asked. The cops reached out and laid their hands on Ruben’s tight belly skin. Ruben pushed his abs out. They rounded out like 8 curved paving stones. The rookie cop was getting a wet spot in his crotch as he felt the stubble on Ruben’s rockgut, and ran his fingers along the deep ab ridges, slippery with sweat. Ruben looked down at him, feeling pleasure at the young man’s awe and worship. His posers were tenting out. Worship and awe always made him want to rut something. Out front, Doc pulled into the driveway, arriving home early from the sperm bank. He got out of the car, wearing only a lab coat and a pair of boxer briefs. He’d discovered early on that he could get ‘donations’ from the musclebound freaks at the bank much faster if he went into the exam room with them, and pulled his lab coat open at the chest, exposing his shaved, heavily striated pecs. None of his donators had muscle development that was as shredded and grainy as Doc’s. And he kept his pecs shaved and oiled to highlight that shred. When he flexed them, thousands of striations popped out, tight as guitar strings. “Strum them,” he would say, and almost as soon as the big men’s fingers touched Doc’s chest, they would cum in their cup. When Doc saw the cop car, he went around to the backyard, curious. He came around the corner just in time to see Ruben shaking out his 48”quad in the older cop’s face. “MASS,” said Ruben, and he flexed his leg. The quad muscles tightened up like stone, and his extreme vascularity pulsed through his skin. The cop put his hands on the monster quad, and when Ruben said, “Bigger than your chest,“ the cop came in his pants. Ruben snorted, then he grabbed the rookie by the back of his neck and lifted him to his face. Then he kissed him on the mouth. Deep and long and rough. The young cop came in his pants from the feel of Ruben’s muscle tongue owning his mouth. Ruben sat the rookie down on the ground. When Ruben saw Doc watching them, he smiled, and flexed into a double bi, Doc’s favorite pose. Doc was already swelling up when Dino came out of the backdoor, still naked and hard. “Need to rut,” said Ruben, as he ripped off his poser. “Jesus,” said both cops at the sight of the naked behemoth, his big cock rising up as it engorged in the fresh air. The rookie looked behind him and saw the thick naked bulk of Dino, standing next to the 290lb Doc. “What is this place?” Dino walked over to the rookie with the swagger that someone gets when he knows that guys will stuff 100 dollar bills into his jockstrap just to get close to him. “You’re in Muscle Heaven, little dude.” Then Doc walked over. He stood over the rookie, and opened up his lab coat, completely exposing his shredded torso. He flexed. Thousands of muscle fibers popped out all over him. The rookie fainted. The older cop craned his neck around to see. Doc turned to him, and flexed some more. “Oh my god, look at you,” said the cop, bracing his hand on the ground. Dino, Doc, and Ruben looked at each other, grinning. They stripped down the cops, and for the next couple hours, they had a 5-way in the backyard. Doc focused on the rookie. Ruben focused on the older cop, reminding himself to be careful not to break him. Dino switched back and forth between the teams. The cops would never be the same. They ended up quitting the force and moving into Doc’s house. They pulled their weight by servicing the three huge musclemen in every way. They cooked and cleaned and maintained the house in return for hours and hours of worship and adoration. They got bigger themselves, just from all the muscle spunk they were taking in, but Doc never put them on gear, and they were perfectly happy just serving their muscle superiors. On Ruben’s 60th birthday, they baked him a protein cake and celebrated his age and the fact that he’d hit 600lbs of muscle at 2% bodyfat. Life was good.
  3. Dino noticed the houses as he got closer to the address that Doc had given him. “Damn, nice neighborhood,” he thought to himself. He felt a little less anxious. What could happen to him in this white bread community? He pulled into the cul-de-sac and parked in front of the house. He still couldn’t believe how turned on he got from Doc’s prostate exam. He never thought he’d love having something up his ass, let alone a dude’s finger. Yet here he was in the car, getting hard just remembering it. Did someone in this house have fingers bigger than the doc? He found himself hoping so as he got out of the car. During the past month, Ruben’s brow had thickened and grown outward. So had his jawline. His traps had swollen up so high he didn’t really have a neck to speak of, just a thick spreading column of muscle, with thick, sausage-sized rolls below the back of his head, pushing his head forward. He looked like a Neanderthal. And now at 498lbs, a very massive Neanderthal. All he had on were a pair of black posers. His thick eight pack abs bulged out over the posers, pushing the waiststrap downward. He grunted deeply as he eyed Dino up and down like a new toy. He squatted down until the knuckles of his left hand touched the floor. He leaned forward on his knuckles, like an offensive lineman. “Play football,” Ruben said. His growing neck muscles were compressing in on his larynx so much that his voice had gotten deeper and more gargled. He charged at Dino like a silverback gorilla, tackling the 300lb powerlifter to the floor. Dino’s big back hit the tile in the foyer so hard that some of them cracked. He’d had the wind knocked out of him as Ruben’s massive shoulder had slammed into his sternum. Ruben straddled him and looked down at him, studying him like he was an insect. Dino struggled but Ruben had ten times his strength and held him with ease. Plus, Ruben had on a pair of sticky gloves, the kind NFL players were wearing now, that quadrupled his ability to hold and control anything in his grip. This was his first time trying them out. Doc had custom-ordered them for him, made to fit his thickly muscled, oversized hands and fingers. Ruben grabbed Dino by the shoulders, then stood up with him, lifting the powerlifter off the ground and holding him airborne. Even Ruben was surprised at how easy it was for him to hold this 300lbs block of muscle. “We wrestle,” said Ruben, lifting Dino overhead, then walking around the living room with him. He threw Dino into a big sofa, so hard that it tipped over backwards. Dino rolled off onto the floor, and started to stand up. Ruben grabbed his by his upper arm and yanked him up and over the sofa. Then he proceeded to toss the big powerlifter around the room, smashing furniture and knocking pictures off the walls. In between tosses, Ruben admired himself in the big mirror over the mantle, flexing his 32” arms and kissing their peaks. He stripped off his poser and went after Dino some more, ripping his clothes off him along the way. On one of his tosses, Dino flew across the room and slammed into an end table, knocking a decorative marble orb off its stand. The orb was the size of a small globe. It rolled across the floor and came to a stop at Ruben’s feet. He leaned over and picked it up in his gloved right hand. He walked over to Dino and pressed his left index finger into Dino’s meaty chest, pinning him to the floor. He put his right hand next to Dino’s ear, and started squeezing the orb. Dino’s eyes widened as he watched the thick network of veins swelling out on Ruben’s 22” forearm. Dino had always been the strongest kid around when he was growing up. By third grade, he could already outmuscle kids who were two or three years older than him. It was like he had entered an early puberty. Then, when he was twelve, he hit an even stronger puberty and grew even stronger. In high school, he loved pushing the smaller kids around. “Runt” he’d called them as he knocked them into locker doors or into bathroom urinals. He got a rush from the bullying. It made him feel superior. When he was seventeen, he started his first steroid cycle. He became twice as strong as any of the other jocks, even the ones who were also using. At that point, he stopped bullying the ‘runts’ so much. It was just too easy. Plus, he saw how they looked at him with fear and awe, and that was enough for his ego. Now, on the receiving end of vastly superior size and power, he knew why they had felt fear and awe. He felt fear from being pinned down so easily, and he felt awe as he heard the marble orb crack under Ruben’s grip. The first crack was loud, especially with the orb nearly touching Dino’s ear. Then Ruben’s thick fingers continued to close around the marble, and Dino heard more and more cracking and crushing. Chunks of marble fell out thru Ruben’s fingers and he crushed down even harder on the remnants, reducing the marble into powder, and letting it sift down onto Dino’s forehead. Ruben snorted derisively as he looked down at the much weaker man at his feet. He reached down and grabbed Dino by his wrist, then dragged him thru the house like a caveman pulling his mate back to the cave. He pulled Dino to the back door, opened it up and dragged him outside, knocking the screen door off its hinges as he powered the 300lb lifter thru it. He tossed Dino off the deck and into the yard. Dino landed with a thud. When he sat up and looked around, he saw that the yard was filled with weights and lifting equipment. In the back, there was a row of Atlas stones lined up. Dino had done a couple of amateur Strongman contests and had some experience with the stones, but these looked bigger than any he had ever tried to lift. Ruben saw him looking back there. He came over to him, picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. He walked to the back of the yard, leaving deep imprints in the lawn from their combined weight of nearly 800lbs. Ruben sat Dino down in front of the first stone. “Lift,” Ruben said. Dino stood up and brushed himself off as he sized up the stone. Now maybe he’d be able to show this brute beast that he had some real strength of his own. At least he hoped so. He walked around the stone and saw on the backside was written the weight. 250kgs it said. Dino knew that was well over 500lbs. He also knew that the heaviest stone he’d ever lifted was 340lbs. And he’d only managed to get that two feet up before dropping it back down. He looked at Ruben, who merely smirked back at him and repeated, “Lift”. So Dino squatted down and wrapped his burly arms around the stone. He squeezed himself into the stone until his big pecs crushed up against it and his forearms had as snug a grip as he could get. Then he started to pull in with his arms, and push up with his big thighs. He grunted and strained, then strained some more. He’d show this big ape. He struggled and struggled. He could feel is eyeballs bulging out and his blood pressure spiking. He was trying with all his might, and was about to give up, when he felt the stone roll toward him, just about an inch. But that gave him hope, and his big hairy thighs started shaking with effort. He pulled and pulled, and finally, he felt the stone lifting, ever so slightly. He bellowed out a roar, and the stone lifted up, an inch off the ground. Then another inch. At three inches, Dino’s grip began to give out. His whole body shook as he tried to hold on, but the stone slipped thru his arms and thudded back to earth. Dino stumbled backwards, and looked at his forearms and chest, all scraped up from the rough stone. Then Ruben stepped up to the stone. He leaned down and put one hand on each side of the 550lbs orb. Then he lifted it off the ground like it was an oversized bowling ball. Dino whispered out a ‘fuck’ as he watched the huge muscleman’s thick, ropey back muscles bulge and ripple with power. Ruben hoisted the stone straight overhead and held it there while Dino looked up at him in awe. Ruben shifted the weight of the stone to his right hand, then took his left hand off it, holding the big stone aloft with one huge arm. He reared his arm back, then threw the stone into the woods behind the house as if it were a baseball. The stone crashed thru the woods like a meteor, smashing tree trunks into splinters on its way. Ruben turned back and looked at Dino. He flexed his huge arms, the biceps peaks pumped and rising to 34 inches. “Oh god,” groaned Dino. He never realized he could be so turned on. Ruben walked over to the second stone. It was marked at 350kgs, which is over 770lbs. Ruben wrapped his arms around it and lifted it up. He squeezed it until it cracked in two against his pecs. The big stone had split even faster than the marble orb. He dropped the two halves down with a thud, then brushed the granite dust off his 80” chest. He went to the third stone, marked at 450kgs. Over 990lbs. He picked it up and put it on his back behind his neck, like Atlas himself. Then he started doing squats. Rep after rep. Twenty, then thirty. His quads bloating with pump. At forty reps, he stopped and shifted the huge stone on his massive bull neck. Then he did ten more reps before he dropped the stone behind him. His quads were swollen to 44 inches and snaked with veins. Sweat ran down his whole body in rivulets. His big horse cock was rock hard and arching up like a satyr’s, with pre-cum pulsing out of it. He lubed himself up with it, then looked over at Dino like he was a snack. He waddled over to the 300lbs powerlifter and lifted him up easily. Then he sat him down on his dickhead and entered him. He air fucked Dino right in the yard, bouncing him firmly up and down with his powerful hands, sliding him up and down his 8pak roidgut. When Dino realized that the massive muscle monster wasn’t trying to split him in two like another Atlas stone, he let the pleasure of it take him over. And as the bigger man entered him deeper with each thrust, Dino felt pleasure that was ten times more profound than the doc’s fingers. Maybe 100 times. He was being manhandled and used by a superhuman brute. And when Ruben looked him in the eye and called him “little bitch” between rough thrusting, Dino came so hard. It spewed out of him like never before. He never thought the day would come that he wanted to be someone’s little bitch, but that day was here, and he loved it.
  4. A month went by, and Doc’s body had transformed itself. He now weighed 275lbs and was leaner than he’d ever been in his life. He’d gained an inch in height and was now 6’2”. He’d given up his regular practice, but was keeping his hormone replacement clinic open for abbreviated hours, so he could spend more time lifting. He and Ruben workout twice a day now, for 2 hours each session. Doc’s vascularity had quadrupled, and sometimes, when he saw himself in the mirror, in the stringer tank and posers he wore to lift in, he’d spontaneously cum to his own reflection. At his clinic, he found himself being more assertive, even aggressive, toward his patients. The big men who came in for their treatments used to intimidate Doc. Now, he was the one that intimidated them. He could see it on their faces. Even the ones who were still bigger than him. He figured it was because he was now way stronger than they were. And they could tell because of the way Doc could maneuver them around on the exam table. His hands and fingers had gotten thicker and bigger than he’d ever dreamed, and he liked the unbelievable strength he’d developed in his grip. He liked to hear a big guy give out a little yelp when he told them to lay back on the table as he grabbed their shoulder and pushed them back, squeezing harder than he needed to. “Jesus, Doc,” said one 300 pounder, “what kinda protein powder you been taking?” Doc also liked taking his time going thru their charts while he stood in front of them in the exam room. He’d outgrown his lab coat, and now wore short sleeve white dress shirts. He could feel the men checking out the size of his arms even without looking up at them. And who wouldn’t look at them, all veiny and rock hard with sinew. His slightest hand movement made his forearm muscles roll and ripple with power. Doc was especially looking forward to an appointment with a particular patient. Dino was a 340lb powerlifter, who Doc had overheard making homophobic remarks at the gym. Doc had never said anything to the guy, but he had replaced his hormone treatments with placebos, so the big oaf was coming in to find out why he was losing size and strength. Once Doc had him in the exam room, he had him strip down to his briefs for a full exam. Homophobe or not, the guy was quite a vision to watch undress. Doc had to help him get his shirt up over his huge lats and off his 24” arms. His hairy chest was over 70 inches, and his pec slabs rested on his solid powerlifter gut ball. His hairy quads had to be 34 inchers. Doc had him lay face down on the exam table, which creaked and sagged under the big bull’s weight. Doc snapped on a latex glove to his right hand, then he greased up his index finger. “Time for a prostate exam,” he said to Dino, who began to sit up in protest. “I don’t take anything up my ass, Doc,” said the big man, pushing himself up on the exam table. But Doc put his left hand on the middle of Dino’s back and pushed him back down. As he held the big gorilla there, his face pinned to the table, Doc realized he was holding him down with relative ease. He must have at least twice the guy’s strength. “Today you’re going to take at least my finger. We have to see if anything’s going on up there. Can’t you feel how weak you’re getting? I’m holding you down like a child.” With that, Doc pulled the big man’s briefs down over his huge hairy buttocks mounds, and jammed his finger into the deep beef crack. He found the opening and slid his finger in. Dino groaned in protest, but Doc held him in place with ease. He slid his finger in deeper and found the prostate gland. He rubbed his finger on it, around and around, far longer than he needed to, and as he massaged the gland, the pitch of Dino’s groans changed into moans of pleasure. Doc continued to stroke the prostate as the big ape started bucking into the exam table. “Doc, what the fuck….feels so good….I never felt……” And as Doc caressed the gland over and over again, Dino’s eyes rolled up in pleasure. He bucked into the table so hard that Doc thought it might collapse. “You like that, big boy?” Doc asked him. “Fuck yes, fuck, fuck.” “You want me to stop?” asked Doc. “No! No no no.” Dino was feeling the most ecstasy he’d ever imagined. His meaty cock was hard as steel as he rammed it against the table. “Beg me for more,” said Doc. “Oh please yes, more! More. Harder.” Dino was drooling all over the exam table paper. Doc slid a second finger into him and shoved into him harder. Goosebumps covered Dino’s rhino sized back. His skin flushed like a baboon in heat. Doc made one final thrust and held his fingers on the big man’s gland. Dino came into the table, gripping the frame so hard that the metal dented in. Doc pulled his fingers out, took off the glove, and tossed it into the waste bin. “Okay, roll over and sit up,” he said. Dino sat up on the table. His thick chest fur and gut were covered with sweat and cum. “What just happened?” he asked, his eyes glazy. Doc grabbed a handful of paper towels and began to wipe Dino down. “I just unleashed your deepest latent desire. And now you’re going to want it again and again.” And despite the fact that Doc didn’t want to be drawn to the guy, he couldn’t help chubbing up as he rubbed down the big ape and his overly muscled, hypermasculine torso and quads, all ruddy from sex with an exam table. “I’m going to do you a favor,” Doc said, tossing the cum soaked towels away, then washing his hand. “I’m going to give you an address. After you leave, if you feel like you want to experience something like this, only better, go there. Just let yourself in the front door, it won’t be locked. I think you’ll like what you find on the inside.” Doc wrote down an address as Dino got dressed. “I don’t know what you mean, Doc,” said Dino, acting as if nothing had happened. But he took the paper from Doc, and put it into his pocket. “I got to go.” He wouldn’t look Doc in the eye, but instead, hurried out of the exam room. He walked to his car, got in, and sat in the driver’s seat for awhile. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, how turned on he was having his ass worked like that by the doc. It didn’t mean he was gay though. Did it? He pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket and crumpled it up, tossing it on the passenger seat. He started the car. He sat there for a couple more minutes, the engine running. Then he reached over and grabbed the paper, unfolding it. He entered the address into his phone GPS. He couldn’t drive there fast enough, to find out what was awaiting him. Doc watched from his office window, and chuckled to himself as the uber-masculine Dino peeled out of the parking lot. Doc knew exactly what he was heading for.
  5. Doc woke up, sore all over, again. He heard Ruben coming in from outside and tromping up the steps, the hard wood stairs creaking under his prodigious weight. He came into the bedroom shirtless, with Doc’s workout pants on, which fit Ruben like leggings. He was shiny with sweat. Doc noticed that he had some kind of a harness around his waist. “Where you been?” asked Doc. “Went for a little jog.” Ruben’s big roidgut and chest heaved in and out. “What’s that around your waist?” asked Doc. “Just a tow rope. Used it to pull your car behind me as I ran. Hope you don’t mind.” Doc twitched at the thought of Ruben running up and down the streets of his neighborhood, pulling his car up and down the steep hills around him. “Didn’t people honk at you?” Ruben laughed. “You think someone would honk at this?” He bounced his pecs. “Actually, someone did, but when he passed me, he got this panicky look on his face and then ran the stop sign we were coming up to.” “How far did you go?” “You remember the address we got off that little hoodlum that tried to shake you down for gear?” “Yeah.” “That far.” “You went to his house?” “Yep. I just stood on the street looking at it. He didn’t see me until he came out to go to work. That’s when I unhooked the tow line and started walking up to him. You should have seen him scurry to his car, fumbling to unlock the door. I got to him just as he got inside and slammed the door.” “Then what did you do?” “Nothing. Just watched him back out. I could smell pee though, so I don’t think he’ll be a bother. I just wanted to remind him not to be.” Doc shuddered at how the guy must have felt seeing a 365lb superheavyweight bodybuilder unhooking himself from a car he was towing, and then walking menacingly up thru his yard at him. No wonder he peed himself. Doc got up and walked over to his dresser and opened up the top drawer. “I have something for you, for making me feel safe,” said Doc, pulling out a pencil case sized box. He opened it up, and inside were 6 pre-filled syringes. “What’s that, Doc?” “It’s a six month cycle of the newest gear from eastern Europe. Supposed to promote unreal gains. I just got it in. Haven’t tried it on anyone yet. You game?” “There’s only six needles in there.” “Yep. One shot per month. If you still have open receptors for it, it should act pretty fast.” “No shit? Pin me with it, Babe,” said Ruben. He took the tow line off his waist and tossed amongst the rubble that was strewn around Doc’s bedroom. Then he pulled his jogging pants down over his huge glutes, turned around, and bent over. “Jesus,” said Doc as he soaked in the sight of Ruben’s oversized glutes and hamstrings, stretching out and rippling with striations. It reminded Doc of the rump of the thoroughbred horse he’d looked at once when he was thinking about getting into horse breeding. The same kind of muscularity and power. “Jesus,” he muttered again as he took an alcohol swab out of the kit and swiped Ruben’s ass with it. Then he jabbed the needle into Ruben’s thick right buttocks. “This might take awhile, the oil is very viscous,” said Doc, as he pushed down on the plunger. “That’s OK, Doc. Give it to me deep.” Doc looked over the massive glutes jutting out at him as he pushed the super roids into them. “You ever bottom?” he asked the big man. Ruben snorted. “About once a century,” he said. “That century almost up?” Doc asked. Ruben turned his head back and looked at Doc. “You think you could handle all that, Babe?” “I wouldn’t mind trying.” Doc pulled the needle out and wiped Ruben’s hard ass with the swab. Then he rubbed his fingers on the injection site. The muscle didn’t press in at all, but the skin over it was tight as a snare drum, and slid back and forth across the site. “Jesus,” muttered Doc for the third time. Ruben laughed as he pulled up his pants. “Tell you what, Doc. Let’s save that for another time. Your neighbors need their driveway resealed. I gotta get to work. Hey, you know what, man, I think that shit might already be kicking in. Either that or it’s getting really hot in here.” Ruben turned and looked into the full length mirror on Doc’s closet door. “Oh fuck yeah, look at me, Doc!” The skin on Ruben’s upper torso had flushed a deep red. New veins were popping up across his chest and down his arms. “I look like Bane!” Ruben declared. He flexed and his muscle stood out like never before. When he relaxed, his arms stuck out almost parallel to the floor, pushed up by his rising lats. “Goddamit, Doc. This is the best! I’m gonna go knock out that driveway job double time, then go lift. Fuck. Then I might go hunt down your little thug, show him what’s going on. He won’t just piss himself, seeing this!” Ruben turned and faced Doc, who, for the fourth time, muttered, “Jesus.” Ruben was a muscle freak extraordinaire, pumped to the extreme without having pumped up. Ruben stepped toward Doc, and his quads ripped thru his running pants, shredding the nylon like paper towels. The pant tatters fell around his feet, leaving him wearing just an old jockstrap. “And you know what, Doc? I’m not doing this on my own.” He grabbed a syringe out of the kit, then pinned Doc down to the bed and jabbed the needle into Doc’s ass. “The fuckk….”cried out Doc, as he felt the needle and the oil start to go into him. But he didn’t even try to struggle, not that he could have fought it. He had secretly been thinking about trying this stuff out, but just hadn’t had the nerve to do it himself. His body relaxed as Ruben plunged the syringe into him. After what seemed like ten minutes, Ruben pulled the needle out and massaged Doc’s glute with his big beefy hand. “There ya go, Doc. You on a new journey. Now I gotta go knock out that driveway.” He slapped Doc on the ass, then stood up and sauntered out of the room. Doc stayed in the bed for awhile, feeling the new gear course thru his veins. The temperature in the room felt like it had been turned up to 100 degrees. His skin was sweaty and flush. He sat up and wiped himself down with the sheet. When he stood up, he realized he didn’t feel any soreness. He walked over to the mirror and noticed that all the deep bruising he’d gotten from roughhousing with Ruben were fading. There were pencil-sized veins running down his arms. He flexed his biceps, and instead of the rounded bulge he was used to seeing, a big peak rose up and a deep split ran across the top. “Fuck yeah,” said Doc, with a big grin. He got dressed and went across the street to his neighbor’s front yard. Ruben had put on a pair of cargo shorts and was about to start work on the driveway. “Put that shit away, man, aren’t you hungry? Let’s go get something to eat,” said Doc, who had never been hungrier in his life. “Good idea, Doc. But we can just go into your neighbor’s kitchen. I got the fridge stuffed with food.” Ruben got the keys from his van, and they went inside. For the next hour, they gorged themselves on anything they could find. Doc was ravenous, and everything tasted so good, he couldn’t stop himself. Neither of them even spoke, they just ate. And ate. Doc felt like a bloated animal, and he loved it. “Let’s go lift,” grunted Ruben as he wiped his mouth with his huge forearm. They headed to the most hardcore gym in town. For the next 3 hours they went thru a grueling workout. Doc had always limited his workouts to an hour, knowing that anything more than that could lead to muscle atrophy. But now it was different. He felt super charged, like he’d been giving ten B12 shots. They both stopped between sets and flexed in the gym mirrors. Doc’s muscles popped out like he was ready to go on stage as a middleweight bodybuilder. When he lifted his tank top and flexed his abs, an 8pak showed up. Doc grinned like a kid, seeing the stacked bricks. He used to have to try hard just to get a 6pak to show. Not anymore. And Ruben. He was pumped up beyond superheavyweight. Doc helped him peel out of his UA shirt, and he seemed to expand out even more. He roared with every pose he hit in the mirror. His upper arms had to measure over 26 inches. There wasn’t a guy in the gym that wasn’t staring at them in awe and envy. At the end of the workout, they spent another half hour flexing and posing, side by side in the wall mirrors. Doc had stripped down to his briefs, Ruben to his jockstrap. Both of them had a pool of sweat at their feet when they were done. Some of the guys watching had shot in their gym shorts. Doc couldn’t believe it was him he was looking at in the mirror. So swole and veiny. When they weighed themselves, Ruben came in at 379lbs, a 14 pound gain. Doc weighed in at 223, thirteen more pounds than he’d ever weighed, and far more lean. And this was just Day One of the cycle.
  6. That gave me chills... of pleasure. The black mohawk was an excellent touch.
  7. Part 2 When Doc woke up, he was in his bed. His head hurt, his neck hurt, his ass hurt. He basically hurt all over. He opened his eyes and saw Ruben standing at the side of the bed, looking down at him. “Whoa,” said Doc. “How long have you been there?” “Not that long. You’ve been out for awhile, so I explored the house a little.” He was eating a big chicken leg as he talked. The greasy skin made his lips shiny. “I got hungry. Your fridge is gonna need to be re-stocked.” He finished the leg and tossed it across the room. Then he wiped his hand across his huge chest and down his bulging gut. “I borrowed a pair of your workout pants. Hope you don’t mind.” He had on Doc’s favorite pair of Nike running pants. He liked to wear them around the house because they were loose and comfortable. But they fit Ruben like a second skin, stretched so tight over his huge legs that the nylon fabric looked like see-thru mesh. Doc could see the outline of his thick thigh veins bulging thru, and also his big package, which looked like a python shoved in his pants, just waiting to get out and create havoc. “Oh, and your home gym is broken.” “What?” asked the doc, rubbing his eyes as he woke up more. He had gotten a new, state of the art home gym about three months ago. It was very sturdy, had four lifting stations, and had set him back over 3000 dollars. The two big guys that delivered it had put it together for him. “Yeah, the frame is all bent, and a bunch of the parts snapped off. I did manage to get a good pump from it before it fell apart though. Check out the quads.” Ruben slid Doc’s workout pants down over his massive glutes and quads. His python flopped out half hard and seemed to scan the room, looking for a victim. “I bet these wheels are swollen over 35 inches right now,” Ruben said, turning his legs from side to side and flexing them. His sartorius muscles popped out at Doc like two ship ropes. He stared at Ruben’s rectus femoris, his tensor fasciae, his gracilis. Doc remembered them all from physiology class. But Ruben looked like a morphed version of those anatomy charts. Especially his vastus medialis, the “tear-drop” muscle that jutted out over 4 inches above Ruben’s knee cap. Doc reached out and groped it. He guessed those thighs were over 36” from the feel of them. As Ruben stepped out of the pants, he said, “That digital scale in your bathroom is broken, too. But before it cracked, it said I weighed 365. Guess I hadn’t weigh myself in awhile.” Then he climbed onto the bed and swung one huge leg over top of Doc. His massive tree-trunk thighs straddled him on each side. He rubbed the chicken grease more evenly over his monstrous chest, then flexed both his arms. “Bet these bad boys are peaking up over 25”s now.” He kissed the top of both his huge arms, then smirked down at Doc. “You like this, Babe? How about a little tea bagging for your big man.” He brought himself up to his knees and swung his low-hanging sac across Doc’s lips. “Jesus,” grunted Doc, his voice hoarse. Ruben chuckled. “Nope, just me, Doc. I fucked you again while you were out, too, hope ya don’t mind.” Doc felt the hot satiny skin of the hot ball sac brushing his face, and it made his dick jump. How could he be horny when he was throbbing with pain all over? Then he remembered last year, when he’d gotten the chicken pox, had a 104 fever and itchy poxes covering his body, how he still managed to jack off repeatedly to youtube videos of huge muscle while he laid in bed, sick as a dog. He was hopelessly addicted to mass and power, and to prove it, he opened his mouth and let the 365lb muscle beast dip his sac in and out. How were his balls so big, after decades of steroids, Doc wondered. Most guys’ testes shrink up like raisins from being turned off so long. Ruben’s must still be gushing out test, despite the heavy use of gear. Doc sucked and pulled on the satiny sac skin as the big handyman jerked himself off, grunting like a bull, as he lubed himself with his greasy hand. His free hand was up against the solid oak headboard, which was banging back and forth against the wall. His pre-cum flowed out of his big slit. It didn’t take long for Ruben to spray all over it, shot after shot, arching up even onto the wall. Sweat dripped off his nose and chin as he continued to jerk. He sat upright and pulled his big sac out of Doc’s mouth. He continued to milk himself, and let his hot paste drip down onto Doc’s face. Doc licked off the cum that hit his lips and said, “How do you produce such prodigious quantities of ejaculate?” Ruben snorted a laugh and leaned down and whispered “I like when you use big words, Doc. Turns me on.” Then he sucked on Doc’s earlobe. Doc groaned and put his hands on Ruben’s massive traps. He could feel the veins on them. “Jesssus,” he said as he groped the granite hard neck muscle, getting goosebumps all over. “I just meant how you got so much cum?” Ruben sat upright and gave Doc a look. “I knew what you meant, prick. You think I’m dumb? You think I’m dumb, don’t ya?” Then he gave Doc a little slap across the face. “No no no,” stuttered Doc. Ruben slapped him again, harder this time. Doc, out of reflex, slapped him back. They looked at each other, both surprised. “Ohhh, Doc. You feeling feisty, huh? You wanna fight? I’ll give you a fight.” Ruben grabbed him under his armpits and hoisted him up, then tossed him onto the floor. Ruben stood up and towered over him. “Let’s wrestle, sweet cakes, see who comes out on top.” Ruben interlocked the fingers on his hands and outstretched his arms, crunching his thick pecs slabs together like two cement pillows. He stretched his hands until his knuckles popped and cracked. Then he unlocked his fingers and shook out his big arms as he smirked down at Doc. Sweat was rolling off the big man. He reached over to Doc’s armoire and ripped off one of the oak doors. “This what I’m gonna do to you, SweetCakes.” Then he held the door out in front of him and snapped it in two like a wafer. The loud crack made the doc flinch back. “Fuck, I like breaking shit.” Ruben stacked the two pieces together, then brought his knee up and broke the pieces across it. He tossed the four broken pieces of wood against the far wall. “That gonna be you,” he said. His dick was sticking out straight. Pre-cum was hanging from his piss hole. He stepped toward Doc. Doc reached under his bed and pulled out the baseball bat he kept there in case of intruders. Ruben grinned and flexed into a most-muscular pose. “Come hit me with it, boy,” he said, his massive upper torso bulging with rock hard thickness and veins. Doc stood up and limped over to him. He swung the bat into Ruben’s neck. The bat bounced back so hard it stung Doc’s hand. Ruben smirked. “You call that swing, Alice?” he said. “Try again.” Doc knew it had been a hesitant swing, he didn’t think he’d really have to hit him that hard, but that swing hadn’t even fazed him. Doc reared the bat back and swung again. But this time, Ruben reached out and snagged the bat mid-swing with his big left hand, stopping the bat cold with a loud thud. “I can’t believe you’re hitting on me with a bat, Sugar,” said Ruben. He wrenched the bat out of Doc’s hands, hurting his wrists even more. He grabbed Doc’s jaw with his powerful right hand. He pushed Doc back against the wall. “You feel these mandible-crushing fingers, Doc?” asked the big man as he squeezed hard on Doc’s jawline. Then he raised the bat overhead with his left hand. His 25” upper arm tightened and swelled, and veins popped out all over his 19” forearm. The bat looked like a toy in his hand. “God, I love breaking things,” he said again. He crushed down on the bat with his thick fingers until he cracked it in two like a breadstick. The two halves of the bat fell to the floor with a clatter. Ruben squeezed Doc’s jaw harder and slid him up the wall until they were face to face, Doc’s feet off the ground. He leaned into Doc’s ear and whispered “See, I can use big words, too, Sweetness.” Doc felt a shiver of lust throughout his whole body. The huge handyman’s baritone voice rippled thru Doc’s bones. He clung to Ruben’s thick forearm with both hands, trying to keep from choking out. Then Ruben sucked on his earlobe. Doc groaned with pleasure. Ruben sucked and sucked. Doc thought he might pass out. Then Ruben stopped sucking his lobe, moved his lips to Doc’s forehead and began kissing it. Ruben’s big hardon was pressed against Doc’s torso. It felt hard as a nightstick, only with twice the girth. Ruben lowered Doc to the floor, and the big dick slid up Doc’s body to his chest. Ruben let go of his jaw. “Fuck,” groaned Doc. “Yeah? You like that?” “I like your voice,” said Doc. Ruben laughed. “What you like about it?” “It’s basso profundo,” Doc said, using the operatic term for the deepest of male voices. “Aw, Doc. You and the big words again.” Ruben grabbed Doc’s cock and stroked it, his rough callouses scraping across the skin. “Oh my god, fuck, I love you,” stammered Doc. And it was true. He’d never felt anything so profoundly overwhelming. He had deeply and completely fallen for the hot-headed, roid-raging brute that held him in his power. Ruben leaned down and kissed Doc on the lips as he stroked his dick harder, pinning him to the wall with his tanked up size. Doc put his hands on Ruben’s soccer ball sized delt caps. Then Ruben slid him up the wall and went down on him. “Holygeezus fkkkk,” groaned Doc. His eyes rolled back in his head. The big mass monster had a hot mouth on top of everything else. Even his tongue was muscular. He sucked him and sucked him, working his dick hard. Doc had reached nirvana. And he was deeply in love. After he shot deep into Ruben’s hot mouth, Doc was drained, physically and emotionally. “I have to get some sleep,” he said, leaning his head on Ruben’s forehead. “I have to go to work in the morning.” Ruben tossed him gently onto the bed, then said, “You want me to break both your legs so you have an excuse not to go in?” “No, that’s okay,” laughed Doc, nervously. He hoped Ruben was kidding, but he wasn’t exactly sure. “I can put you to sleep again, then, like in the shower.” Ruben stood over there by the bed, his huge arms so massive, so strong. Doc ached to have them wrapped around his neck again. “Okay,” said Doc. He sat up in the bed and turned his back to Ruben, who wrapped on big arm around Doc’s neck, then locked in the hold with his other hand. Doc breathed in the heavy musk coming off Ruben’s sweaty, roided arm. “Say ‘night night’ , Baby Doc,” said Ruben as he compressed down on Doc’s neck. Doc felt the powerful arm squeezing into him. He felt himself fading out, slowly but surely. For a second, he began to panic, and he struggled a little, but then accepted the darkness creeping in on him. No wonder Michael Jackson had liked his Propofol to fall asleep. What a peaceful, peaceful feeling. This was probably no safer, in fact, it was probably more dangerous. But Doc didn’t care. He was in heaven.
  8. Very slightly inspired by a recent news story...……………. For the second day in a row, the doctor noticed the white van parked across the street as he pulled out of his driveway, heading to his office. The cul-de-sac he lived on had only two houses, his, and his neighbors, who had left for Florida for the winter just last week. They had mentioned before they left that there might be a handyman around, fixing things at the house while they were gone. That must be his van, thought the doctor as he drove by it. That evening, as he arrived home, he saw a ladder leaning up against the neighbors’ house, and the handyman was just climbing down off of it. It was dusk, so it was a little hard to see, but the doctor could tell that the handyman was a big guy. And as he stepped off the ladder, he triggered a security light that was on the house, and the doc got a better look at the size of him. “Whoa,” said the doctor out loud, inside his car. The handyman was not young, but he was thick with muscle. He had on a black sleeveless Under Armour shirt that showed off the size of his big delts and beefy arms. As he turned to pull the ladder off the side of the house, the doctor could see the guy’s back muscles bulging around thru his tight shirt, and thru his sweatpants, he could see that he had the glutes of a prized champion bull. The doctor had slowed his car to a crawl to see as much as he could. Even as a kid, he had lusted for muscle, and now, at 35, that lust was stronger than ever. As he watched the beefy handyman lift the extension ladder like it weighed as much as a pillow, the front tire of his car scraped up against the curb. He stopped the car, but the noise of the scraping made the big handyman look over. As he carried the ladder toward his van with one arm, he waved at the doc’s car with his other. “Holy shit, the size of his arms,” thought the doctor to himself, as he waved back weakly and embarrassed, but highly titillated. He steered his car away from the curb and into his driveway. He pushed his garage door opener and then pulled into the garage. As the garage door shut, he stayed in his car, his head spinning, his thoughts racing. Good Lord, he thought, the guy’s arms have to be over 20 inches. And that ass! So thick and mounded, swelling the sweatpants into two perfect globes. God, I love muscleheads too much, he thought. And he was right, he did love muscle too much. At 5’10” tall and 200lbs, he kept in shape himself, but he was nowhere near the size of the beasts he admired. That’s why he belonged to several different hardcore gyms in town, so that he could go scope out all the musclebulls he could. He discovered early on that most of these alpha meatheads wouldn’t notice him or give him the time of day, until they found out he was a doctor. Then the whole dynamic changed. And the doc took advantage of that change. When the topic of PE drugs would come up, which it always would, he’d tell the biggest of the men at the gym to make an appointment with him. Pretty soon, a good sized group of powerlifting and bodybuilding cops, firemen, bouncers, construction workers, even lawyers, were coming to him for pharmaceutical grade gear. As the list grew, he started ordering supplies from eastern Europe, so he wouldn’t get in trouble when the state came in to go thru his records. He found that the stuff from Europe was vastly more effective than what he got from the states. His office began to get overrun with big musclemen looking to grow, so he opened a second office downtown just for them. Lately, though, he was getting a little nervous about how many guys were showing up. He started asking his ‘patients’ to stop sharing where they were getting their gear, and had his musclebound male nurse tell anyone who called that they weren’t taking anyone new for now. Unfortunately, some guys don’t like taking ‘no’ for an answer, and one night, right after the doctor got home, someone knocked on his front door. When he opened the door, there stood a guy from his gym. The doc knew from other people that this guy was an ex-con with a temper. His neck tattoo also added to the sense of menace coming off him. He muscled his way into the foyer, and told the doctor that he knew what he was up to, and that he wanted free gear and a lot of it, or he’d report the doc to the cops. The doc backed up in the foyer as he began to panic a little. This guy was wearing a tight tank top, and was bigger than doc remembered, probably around 220lbs of muscle that was tight and wiry. Doc was good at guessing ages, and figured the guy for about 30. And he looked fast. There was really nowhere for the doc to go to get away from him. Despite that, the doc looked behind the guy, thinking about trying to get around him and out the door. The big con just snorted a laugh and said “Try it”. But when the doc looked out, he saw the handyman walking up onto the porch. “You got a problem here, doc?” asked the handyman. He looked almost twice the size of the ex-con, who turned back, startled, and his whole body language changed as he soaked in the mass of the powerhouse standing before him. The handyman put his beefy hand on the guy’s shoulder and squeezed hard. The doc saw the skin on the ex-con’s delt turn white as the meaty fingers crushed the blood out of his shoulder. The guy’s legs buckled from the pain, and he sank to his knees. “Grab his wallet, Doc,” said the handyman, holding the guy down with ease even as he twisted and pulled trying to shake loose. The doctor grabbed the wallet out of the guy’s back pocket. “Now read his address to me,” said the powerhouse. The doc read him the address, and the handyman squeezed down harder with his thick fingers. Doc could almost hear the muscle fibers of the guy’s deltoid smushing to pulp. He was going to have purple deep tissue bruising for a month. The ex-con’s face blanched white from the pain. The big man leaned into his face and shook him as he said, “Listen to me, boy. You go on home now, and you leave the good doc alone, or I will hunt you down like the scumbag you are, and you will wish you were still in lockup. I’ll gouge your eyes out with my bare hands.” Then he released his grip. The guy gasped from the release of the pain, and almost crumpled to the floor, but caught himself and pushed himself to his feet. He slid along the wall, past the big man in front of him, and scurried out to his pickup. As they watched him peel out of the cul-de-sac, the doctor said thanked the hugely muscled handyman. The big man wiped his hand on his skin-tight black sleeveless UA shirt, as if to rub the grime of the ex-con onto his ridged roidgut. Even this casual motion made the heavily yoked up arm ripple and bulge. “You like what you see, Doc?” That wasn’t hard to figure out, since the doctor was swelling up inside his pants. “How’d you know I was a doctor?” The big man laughed. “I see things, Doc. Like your license plate that has MD on it.” He laughed again. “Plus, I’ve been to that gym of yours lately. I’d seen that guy there, and heard things. You were bound to run into trouble sooner or later.” He stepped in closer to the doc. “You wanna feel my muscle?” Then he flexed his left arm. “Holy shit,” whispered the doc. “How big is that?” “23.5, and growing. Go ahead and touch it, I know you want to.” The doc reached out and put his hand on the big peak. Then ran his hand up to the soccer ball sized deltoid. Then around into the deep armpit that was damp with hot sweat. The handyman lowered his arm and trapped the doc’s hand in his musclepit. “You’ve got the densest muscularity I’ve ever felt,” said Doc. “That’s from 40 years of heavy juicing, Doc.” This took the doctor by surprise because he thought the handyman looked to be about 40 years old. “ So, how old are you?” “I turn 57 next week.” “My god, that’s unbelievable. So you’ve been using since you were 17? “More like 15. Does it show?” Doc’s hand was still trapped in the big man’s pit. He was fully aroused now, and could see the handyman swelling up in his sweats too. “How much do you weigh?” Doc whispered into the big man’s ear. “340. You want me to fuck you with it?” he asked, as he pinned Doc to the wall. “God,” groaned Doc. “I tend to get a little wild once I get going, and I don’t want to bust up any of your nice furniture, Doc. Let’s go out to my van. It’s got reinforced shocks and a mattress in the back.” He curled the doc up the wall until his feet weren’t touching the floor. Then he tossed him over his left shoulder and fireman carried him out toward the van. As Doc bounced up and down on the broad shoulder, he had a great view of the big man’s glutes, and noticed that his sweatpants were pulled up over his huge calves. Doc had never seen calves so overdeveloped and veiny. He could spend a week just worshipping the massive gastrocnemius muscle on this monstrous man. When they got to the van, the handyman opened up the back and tossed Doc roughly onto the mattress inside. Then the big man peeled the skin-tight UA shirt off and tossed it inside too. As he climbed inside, the van creaked and moaned from his weight. Doc couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d seen pictures and videos of men this developed, like Big Ramy and Hadi Choopan, and just the visuals of them drove him wild. But in person…oh my god. And the smell inside the van. So thick with the man’s musk. As Doc looked around, he realized that the guy must be living in here. He was overwhelmed with lust, but also a little frightened. “Fuck me,” he said, not so much as a request, but as a statement of wondering what he’d gotten himself into. “Oh yeh, babe,” growled the big man, “I’m gonna fuck you alright. Fuck you till the sun comes up, you sweet piece of candy.” “Hey,” said Doc, as the huge handyman swelled up onto him like an incoming storm cloud. “What’s your name?” The big man pulled back a bit. “What’s it matter?” he said darkly, staring down at the doc as he began to pin him to the mattress with those powerful hands. “I just wanna see if you can make me scream it out as you fuck me,” said Doc, thinking quickly, and hoping he hadn’t hit a raw nerve. “Oh, you’ll be screaming it out alright. At least 4 or 5 times. You’ll be hoarse from screaming it out. Name’s Ruben.” “God, you’re so fucking big,” said Doc, as the massive muscle loomed over top of him. “Just wait, Doc.” “How big you wanna get?” “I’m gonna be the first 60 year old weighing a shredded 450.” Then Ruben started tearing Doc’s clothes off of him. From outside, anyone watching would have seen the van start to bounce and tip from side to side. They’d hear the muffled sounds of grunts and groans and an occasional thud as limbs hit the sides of the van, denting it outward. The windows quickly steamed over from the inside. As the night wore on, the thumpings got louder and harder, to the point that the van tires began to inch forward, leaving skid marks on the road. As the sun came up, the back doors of the van opened. Doc stumbled out as he pulled on his tattered clothes. He looked back inside as he closed the doors. Ruben was in a deep slumber, snoring like a hibernating bear. Doc limped toward his house. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck, and he sort of had been. His arms were bruised up and down. His wrists hand burn marks from where Ruben had tied his belt around them, then hung him from a bar at the top of the van. He didn’t think his ass would ever be the same. Whoever thought that steroids made a man’s dick shrink had never met Ruben Ruben took him six times overall, but also let him pec-fuck his 74” chest. Doc shuddered with pleasure at the thought of it, the biggest set of pec mounds he’d ever slid his dick into. As he climbed up the stairs to his porch, he had to use the railings. He was pretty sure he had a couple of broken ribs. He had to shower and get ready for work. It was going to be a long day. But as much pain as he was in, he knew all he was going to want to do was get back home so he could get back in the van and let Ruben demolish him all over again. He limped up to his bathroom and took his tattered clothes off. He saw in the mirror how bruised up he was. “Jesus,” he said, as he touched his ribs and winced. Then he saw the hickey on his neck. He remembered Ruben giving it to him, as he pinned him to the wall of the van. Doc almost came as the huge handyman sucked on him like a musclebound vampire. He almost came again as Ruben had him suck on his 24 inch neck. His skin was leathery and tasted salty as caviar. He started getting hard as he touched the big hickey and remembered the taste. Now, he was going to have to pull out an old turtleneck to wear to the office. He took the hottest shower he could stand, which helped him feel less battered up. Still, as he limped his was into work, his big Filipino male nurse said, “Damn, Doc, what happened to you?” “I had a rough night.” “It looks it. How’s the other guy look?” “Not so bad, actually.” They both laughed and got to work, but it made Doc think about the superheavyweight beast sleeping in his van, and it made his loins throb. He made it thru the day somehow, although he did leave a little early. His juiced up patients were less enticing to him than usual, as all his thoughts were back at his cul-de-sac. When he pulled up to his house, Ruben was in the neighbors’ yard, doing landscaping. He had pulled up a couple big trees and was tossing them to the curb. The trunks of the trees looked liked they’d been snapped rather than sawed. Ruben’s thick mounds of back muscles rolled as he tossed them. He was shirtless and caked in dirt and pine needles. He waved when he saw Doc, who put down his window. “Man, you’re a mess. You want to shower off?” Ruben sauntered over to the car, put his hands at the top of the open window, then pushed the car up onto two wheels. “Whoa,” said Doc, as he slid in his seat. Ruben looked in at him with a grin. He smelled of outdoors and freshly cut wood. Sweat ran down his chest, making little muddy rivers on his big heaving pecs. “Yeh, I could use a hosedown,” he said, as he lowered the car back to the road. His size and strength were making Doc throb all over. He pulled into his drive, and the two of them went into the house. Doc led the big man up to his master bedroom. “Nice place you got here, Doc,” said Ruben as he stripped out of his sweats. His big dick flopped out, then his big balls. Nothing on him had shrunk up from decades of roid use. In fact, he had the biggest set of balls the doc had ever seen, and his sac hung halfway to his knees. Ruben smirked as he noticed the doc checking out the goods. “And they just keep getting bigger. Every year, Doc.” Doc swallowed hard at the thought, then led Ruben into the bathroom. It had a big open shower that could fit six. Ruben made it look small. His big shoulders almost touched opposite walls. Doc turned on the water. When the water got hot, he lifted the hand wand and hosed down the big man’s traps and back. Ruben spread his lats out as the muddy water ran down them, and they jutted out like hams on each side. Doc could barely speak as he watched them swell outward, but he managed to ask, “Are you living in your van, Ruben?” He’d been wondering about it all day. “Yeah.” “Do you need some money to get your own place?” Doc asked as he hosed off the back of Ruben’s huge thighs. “Hell no, Doc. I like it. Gives me freedom to come and go. Besides, I’m flush with dough right now. Your neighbor paid me 10,000 dollars to watch me fuck his wife.” “He did?” Doc moved around in front of the big handyman, and pictured his big club inside his neighbor’s wife. Ruben chuckled. “Yep. Did her three times the first night. Then a couple times after that, before they left for Florida. She was having trouble walking, but I don’t think she’ll ever forget it.” “No, I doubt she will.” He looked the big man over as water ran down his enormous chest. “Man, where did you come from?” asked the Doc. The look on Ruben’s face darkened. He grabbed Doc around the throat with one big hand and shoved him against the wall hard, causing Doc to drop the wand. “You writing a book?” Ruben snarled. He squeezed Doc’s neck harder, making him choke. “I don’t like getting grilled, little man.” Doc didn’t think he’d been grilling and he was starting to panic a little. What had he gotten himself into? He was trying to pull back on Ruben’s wrist with his two hands, but there was no budging that grip. But just as fast as it had started, he saw Ruben’s face relax. He loosened his grip and leaned in and whispered, “Let me kiss it and make it better, baby doc.” He put his lips on Doc’s neck and started sucking on it. Doc’s eyes almost crossed from the pleasure of it. “Gonna give you a hickey necklace, hide the bruising.” Ruben took his big hand off Doc’s neck and sucked his way around, sucking hard yet tender. Ruben reach the other side of Doc’s neck, stopped sucking on it, and stepped back,. “Sorry about that, babe. My temper gets the best of me sometimes. Why don’t ya suck me off, calm me down.” Ruben forced Doc to his knees. Doc didn’t know rather to break free and make a run for it, or do as he was told. He wanted to do both. He was pretty sure his larynx had been damaged. He would be hoarse for a month. Despite his concern about his own safety, he grabbed a bottle of body oil and lubed the big man’s monster cock with it. The water wand was still spraying hot water all around the shower, steaming it up. Doc popped Ruben’s big mushroom cap into his mouth. The big man let out a deep groan, and shoved himself in. Doc wondered if some nerves in his neck had been damaged, because the big club slammed down his throat without him gagging once. “Oh, you way better than your neighbor lady, Doc,” grunted Ruben as he face-fucked him, grabbing his ears and working him up and down his oiled up shaft. Doc could feel the big man’s quad veins under his hands as he braced himself. He felt the heat of pre-cum start to ooze down his throat, and soon after, Ruben’s ejaculate exploding in ropes. Doc knew the average volume was around 5cc’s. Ruben’s just kept going up and up. Over 100. Maybe 200, thought the doc, as he swallowed and swallowed. He felt like he was milking a soft serve ice cream nozzle, only the custard was hot and thick. When he finished, Ruben pulled himself out of Doc’s mouth. Doc reached to turn off the water, but Ruben stopped him. “I’m not done yet,” he said. He picked up the bottle of body oil and pored it on his hand. He flipped Doc around, face first into the tiles. Then he shoved two big fingers into Doc’s ass. “Got to loosen you up, wouldn’t wanna hurt ya.” He rolled his fingers around and around inside him. Doc’s whole body twitched from the feel. The big man popped his fingers out and lubed his still-hard dick with the rest of the body oil. Doc heard the bottle slide across the shower floor. Ruben jammed himself inside Doc and began to rut. When he was fully inside, he lifted Doc up and began to air fuck him like a blowup doll. Doc arched himself as much as he could, pain and pleasure searing thru his body as he felt Ruben’s insane power and size in him, heating him up from inside. “Oh yeh, you way better than your neighbor, sugar,” said Ruben. Then he wrapped one big arm around Doc’s neck, still holding him in the air. Doc could feel his thick biceps peak pressing into his bruised Adam’s apple. “You like my sleeper hold, Doc?” Ruben tightened his hold and Doc started choking for breath. “Gonna put you out as I cum inside you, babe.” He rammed Doc harder and harder, yanking him back and forth in his choke hold. Doc couldn’t breath, and could feel himself losing consciousness. He felt ecstasy and agony at the same time. Was this going to be how it ended for him? He hated it and loved it. He wanted it to stop, but he wanted it to keep going. The supreme power of the brute behind him, using him, owning him like no one ever had. What a way to go, he thought, as he spiraled into darkness.
  9. Once classes started, Danny realized just how much he stood out in the Chemical Engineering department. He outweighed even the biggest of the guys by more than 200lbs of muscle. He saw how they looked at him, some with awe, some with feigned disgust. He was used to the disgust from high school, but now, he reveled in the awe. He realized right away that the TA of one of his labs was one of the awe-struck. The guy was a grad student, so he wasn't much older than Danny, andDanny saw how he looked at him, sneaking furtive glances whenever he could. Danny played on that awe. He stayed after one of the labs ended, because he had a plan. He was hoping that the TA would help him figure out what was in the Black Russian supps that Ivan was getting from eastern Europe. When Danny approached him, Ted, the TA, could barely speak. Danny introduced himself and put out his hand. When they shook, Danny's big muscle paw completely enveloped the TA's soft little hand. The grad student was about 5'5", 140lbs. When Danny grinned down at him, the little guy's knees gave out a little. Danny propped him up against the lab table. Then he got right to the point, pulling out a black pill and asking him how hard it would be to figure out what was in it. The TA took the pill and looked it over. "Probably not very hard," he said. "If I used the mass spectrometer, it would break it down to its components. I'm not supposed to use the equipment for things like that though." "What if we snuck into the lab after classes?" Danny flexed his 24" arm. "We could spend as much time in the lab as you want." The TA gulped hard. "I don't know," he said nervously. Danny, bouncing his 72" chest under his tight tee, said "I'd let you touch." The grad student almost fainted. He looked around the room. "You want to do it tonight?" he said. "I can probably snag the keys from the professor's office." His heart was pounding thru his chest at the thought of being with Danny alone in the lab. "Sounds good," said Danny, running his hand thru his hair, causing his huge arm to bunch up into a big ball. "Oh my god," groaned the young grad student. Danny's powerful pheromones wafted out from his armpit. "You have a poser?" asked the TA, tentatively, bracing himself against the lab table. "Yep," said Danny, reaching out and rubbing his hand along Ted's thin neck. "Would you wear it?" asked Ted, his eye twitching, and goosebumps running up and down his limbs. "Sure. What time tonight?" "Eleven o'clock. The last lab ends at ten." "Ok. Then I'll lift from eight to ten thirty, to maximize my pump." "You're not pumped now?..." The TA's boner was tenting out his white lab coat. "God, no. Just wait till you see. Everything will be inches bigger. I can bloat my quads from 34" to 38" after just two sets of heavy squatting." "....38 inches..." stammered Ted. "Yep. What is that, like ten inches bigger than your waist?" "Yess...." Danny grinned. "I'll see you tonight at eleven, then. Don't pop one out till then, little man." He turned and walked away, as Ted stared in amazement at the size of Danny's back, shoulders, neck, ass, and legs. ... == ... Dwayne's fight night was at a medium sized auditorium downtown. A lot of the guys fighting were amateurs like him, but there were a couple sanctioned fights scheduled for later on the ticket. Dwayne's fight was first. It was his opponent's first real fight too. Dwayne sized him up as they stepped into the octagon they'd set up for the night. The guy was in his early twenties, good build, but nothing overly impressive. He looked like the kind of guy who'd played sports in high school but was never a standout, but had a lot of spunk. He looked a little nervous, especially as he saw Dwayne, who's muscularity was at least 5 times more dense than his. Dwayne didn't have to clench his abs for them to stand out as a taut 8pak. Dwayne saw his opponent looking over at a young woman in the audience. She was a tiny thing, about his age, and looked about 7 months pregnant. The wife, figured Dwayne. He could tell she wasn't thrilled about hubby getting into the ring against him. The fight got started, and it was quickly obvious to everyone that it was a big mismatch. The guy's punches bounced off Dwayne, and Dwayne felt nothing, so he let the guy pound on him for awhile. Then he hit back. His jabs were many times faster than his opponent's, too, but he took care not to punch too hard. He could see the wife flinch every time he hit him. He had to end this one quickly, so he knocked the guy to the ground, got on him, and put him into a choke hold. He pulled the guy close into him, and whispered in his ear as he tightened the choke ever so gently. "Do yourself a favor, and give up fighting, man. You're just gonna get hurt. A guy like me could mess you up bad. Go get a regular job, support your wife and kid." With that, Dwayne tightened his grip just enough to make the pain real to the guy. He turned the guy's face so that he was looking at his wife, and could see her concern. The guy was starting to panic. Dwayne was so strong that it was surreal. He easily flipped the guy around and put him in an arm bar, forcing him to tap instantly. Dwayne helped the guy to his feet, and they shook hands. Dwayne looked over at the wife, and saw the relief on her face. When their eyes met, Dwayne winked at her, and she felt a wave of lust race thru her hormonally flushed body. He was the hottest man she'd ever seen, and she knew he had saved her husband from any real damage, so she blamed her feelings for him on that. Meanwhile, her husband came over to her from the octagon, and hugged her. "I'm done with the fighting," he said, and the wife gave a small wave of thanks to Dwayne. He nodded back. Then he noticed Mr K sitting a couple rows behind her, the same look of lust on his face. This made Dwayne horny, but his gym manager, who was now his fight manager, was talking to him. "That wasn't much of a challenge for you, was it?" he said, laughing. "Nah, man. Just got me all riled up, is all." Dwayne was still looking over at Mr K, hungrily. "Well, I might have good news for you. A guy dropped out of one of the sanctioned fights that's coming up next week. They need a replacement. I volunteered you." "Yeah?" said Dwayne, suddenly interested. "Who'm I fighting?" "This guy Tommy Bell. He's in your weight class, and is 11-0." "Oh yeh? So I'll be breaking his undefeated record?" "You could be. He's pretty tough though. Has been in and out of prison, and has won every fight by KO." "Next week, huh? Gives me time to get even stronger and faster," said Dwayne. He was getting hard just thinking about beating a guy with an 11-0 record. His muscles tightened and rippled in anticipation of what he would do. His manager got goosebumps watching Dwayne's body improve as they stood there. "I gotta go for now, man," Dwayne said to him. Then he made his way over to Mr K, leaned over him and whispered to him, "Let's go somewhere, Mr K. I need some sweet relief from that mouth of yours." Mr K couldn't get up fast enough. He followed Dwayne to the backstage area, where Dwayne broke into an office by snapping the door handle off and forcing the door open with his shoulder. "This oughta do," he said, leading Mr K over to a sofa that lined the wall. As soon as Mr K sat down, Dwayne pulled down his trunks and his big schlong flopped out. He stroked himself a couple of time. "Fuck, I need it bad," he said, as he guided his big dickhead into Mr K's eager mouth. "Did you see me fight that guy down?" Dwayne asked. Mr K nodded as he sucked. "That was just child's play, man. Wait till next week. Fuck, you got a good mouth, Mr K. Funny, cause I remember growing up, how you were always dating those big tittied women, and you were all macho and shit. Now look at you, sucking on me like a newborn calf. You like it, too, don't ya?" Mr K nodded again, still sucking Dwayne's thick knob. He couldn't believe it himself. He'd always been into women. But he couldn't resist Dwayne. And he couldn't get enough of him. He understood addiction now. All he wanted was to service him, to touch his body, smell him, taste him. And Dwayne knew it. "You wanna see me fight again next week?" Dwayne said. "Maybe if you're real good to me, I'll let you come." He flexed his arms over Mr K. "Aw, yeah," he said. "I got a huge load about to fill you up, been feeling my balls churning it out all day." Dwayne tilted his head back, and bucked into Mr K's face. Mr K had never wanted anything more than Dwayne's thick muscle paste. And Dwayne gave it to him, spewing so hard he had to put his hand on the back of Mr K's head to keep his mouth in place. Mr K did his best to swallow the hot nectar the god before him. He did pretty good, considering how much volume there was. Dwayne pulled his head off him. "You sure are hungry for this aren't ya?" Dwayne chuckled, remembering how Mr K had always thought of him as such a dork. Dwayne lifted Mr K up to his face and kissed him. He liked the taste of his jiz in Mr K's mouth, it tasted like cotton candy. No wonder the old guy like it. Mr K almost fainted from the hot young buck tonguing his mouth. Dwayne thought about how he'd gone from goofy dork to supremely handsome and supremely strong. He kissed Mr K deeper, the older man's feet dangling off the ground. Dwayne chuckled to himself as he felt Mr K cum in his pants. His own hardon had gotten even harder. He rested Mr K down on it, and it supported him in the air. "Goddam," said Dwayne after he broke the kiss. "I better head out for tonight, before I decide to ride your ass into the next century." He lifted Mr K up and set him on the desk of the office they were in. As he got dressed, he said, "I'll see you next week at the fight." Then he headed out. Mr K watched him leave. His heart pounded with lust. Next week? Could he last that long without a Dwayne fix? ...===... That night at the lab, Ted was unable to completely decipher what the small black pill was made up of. "We'll have to do more tests," he told Danny, fearful that it would mean that his massive student wouldn't showoff his huge body for him. But Danny didn't care. He was pumped to the max, and was aching to flex anyway. He sat Ted down on a lab chair before stripping down to his poser. "No touching yourself until you find the formula," he said to Ted. Then he flexed his arm an inch away from Ted's nose. It rose up over 25". "Kiss it," said Danny. Ted swallowed hard, then put his lips on the mountain of muscle in his face. Sweat ran down from Danny's deep pits. He smelled of gym and muscle and his own thick musk. "Stop for a second," cried Ted, pulling back from the beast-sized arm. He had to close his eyes for a bit. His heart was beating so fast. He was just starting to get hard, yet he'd almost cum. "Oh, there's no stopping this now, bud," said Danny. "Touch it." And he grabbed Ted's hand on put it on his arm. "Oh god," muttered Ted. Then Danny grabbed the seat of the lab chair, and curled it off the ground until they were face to face. "Oh my fucking god," said Ted. Danny curled him in the chair for reps. Then he sat him down and flexed a double bi shot. Ted's eyes were wide opened now, although one eyelid was twitching at the sight of Danny's massiveness so close to him. He was leaking pre, and it took everything he had not to touch himself. Then Danny turned around, and spread his back. His vast, grand prairie sized back, rolling with thick slabs of muscle that tapered down to his beefy lower back, padded with striations of symmetrical muscle. He made them pop out in a hard flex, and Ted came. There was no stopping it. Ted had no control. His muscle lust took him zooming into a zone of euphoria. Danny spread his back out farther, and Ted fainted, sliding right out of the chair. Danny turned and caught him right before he hit the floor. "Dude, wake up man," said Danny, slapping Ted's face lightly. Ted woke up quickly and found himself looking into Danny's concerned eyes. "Wow... Could you just hold me for a second?" Danny wrapped him up in his huge arms and lifted him up in his hug. Ted was in muscle paradise, swathed up in Danny's tree trunk arms. He never wanted it to end. "I'll figure out the formula for you," he said. "I know you will, Teddy. Right now, I gotta go though." "Where?" "My roommate's waiting for me for a dose of Danny batter. He thinks it's making him stronger and faster." "Is it?" "Yep," said Danny, unwrapping his arms from around Ted and setting him back on the chair. "I'll talk to you later." That's one lucky roommate, thought Ted, as he watched Danny get dressed, and head out of the lab. And that must be one potent chemical, if it can transfer its effects thru Danny's 'batter'. That night, Ted contacted a friend of his who was working on a PhD in Genetics. He enlisted his help in breaking down the little black pill. ...=... The night of Dwayne's next fight came up fast. But he'd had time to have a tailor-made suit custom made to fit him real snug, just like he'd seen McGregor wear at his press conference with Mayweather. Dwayne wore it into the ring, and the crowd went wild. His manager had told him that this Tommy guy didn't want the fight because Dwayne was still a nobody. But then Tommy's manager reminded him that he wouldn't get paid if he didn't fight, so he agreed. He figured it'd be easy money. He'd never seen Dwayne. He would soon though. As Tommy made his way to the ring, Dwayne started flexing in his shiny new suit. The shoulder seams to his jacket started ripping almost immediately. Slow at first, but then faster as he crunched into a most muscular. Dwayne flexed harder. Buttons popped off like bullets. His jacket split up the back. He ripped the shredding jacket off him and tossed the pieces aside. He flexed his arms and made the sleeves of his dress shirt rip as his peaks tore thru the fabric like it was tissue paper. Then he tore his shirt apart like the Hulk, exposing his rockhard torso. As Tommy watched from the apron, befuddled, the crowd was going apeshit. Tommy's slow synapses were trying to process what he was seeing. He'd spent time in juvvie as a teenager, and had been in and out of prison a couple of times, but he'd never seen anyone so jacked up as Dwayne. Tommy stepped into the ring, pretty sure he could handle anyone. He was 11-0, after all. His entourage didn't look so sure. Just like in his first fight, Dwayne noticed Tommy look over at a young woman in the audience. There was a different energy to this couple, though. Dwayne saw a look of fear behind her eyes, the same look he used to get before school, when he knew Tip would be waiting for him. Then he noticed the bruises on her upper arms. He looked at Tommy, and he didn't need to see the skull tattoo on his neck to realize that this goon beat on his girlfriend. Dwayne felt the heat building up inside him. This cocky tool was going to be taught a lesson. When the fight started, Dwayne let Tommy hit him a couple of times without trying to block the blows. Tommy was more confused than ever. His powerful jabs didn't seem to hurt his opponent in the least. So he whirled at him with his roundhouse kick, hitting him right in the side. Dwayne didn't flinch. It was like he had on Batman's mech suit, but it was just his own dense rockhard muscle. Tommy felt like he'd broken his shin bone. He hobble back in pain, and looked over to his corner, where his manager just shrugged and urged him to go back at him. But Dwayne was already coming at him, and threw a jab of his own, hitting Tommy right in his sternum. The jab was so strong and sharp, it knocked the wind out of Tommy. He staggered back against the cage. Dwayne was on him in a flash, picking him up and throwing him to the ground. Then he got on top of him and rode him around the octagon. Tommy had never felt such controlling strength. None of the moves he tried to escape Dwayne's holds had any effect at all. And each hold was more painful than the last. Tommy was in a panic to get away from him, even for a second, but Dwayne was having none of it. He worked him and worked him, then would pick him up and slam him back to the ring, then get right back on top of him. Finally, he put him in a rear naked choke. He leaned into Tommy's ear and said, "This is what happens to guys who hurt women." He maneuvered Tommy so he was facing away from the ref. Then he pulled on Tommy's arm until it popped out of his shoulder joint. Dwayne had one hand over Tommy's mouth, to muffle the scream. Tommy tried to tap out, but Dwayne had his hands trapped so tightly, he couldn't move them. "It's gonna hurt even more, going back in," Dwayne said to him. And he was right. He shoved the ball of Tommy's arm bone back into joint, and Tommy almost passed out. Dwayne flipped Tommy over on his back and mounted him, bending Tommy's ankles up behind his ears. Dwayne leaned into him hard, folding him almost flat on the mat. Again, he whispered in his ear, "If you hurt your girlfriend again, I'll come after you. And it will make what's happening here seem like a picnic." Dwayne pinned him down harder. "Then I'll make you change your first name to Tinker. How ya think 'Tinker Bell' will go over on the fight circuit?" Tommy was drenched in sweat, and gasping for air as Dwayne pressed against his ribcage with his superhuman strength. Then Dwayne stood up over him. He grabbed Tommy around the throat with one hand, then lifted him off the ground and into the air. He walked around the ring holding Tommy up, while flexing his other arm. The crowd was in a frenzy, even as the ref warned Dwayne about the choke hold. Dwayne looked at the ref, then dropped Tommy to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Dwayne jumped onto him, wrapped his legs around his torso, and pulled Tommy's right arm into an arm bar. Pain seared thru Tommy's radial nerve. This time, Dwayne let Tommy tap out. Then he released the hold and stood up. The ref took his arm and raised it in victory. Dwayne flexed into his most-muscular pose for the crowd, as it roared in approval. Tommy looked up at his vanquisher. He'd never been turned onto a man before, yet, despite his physical pain, he felt himself getting aroused as Dwayne's superior, muscular body flexed over him. Tommy would never have sex again without thinking of Dwayne in order to finish. ...==... A couple of days later, Danny texted Dwayne to meet him at the park. He had something important to tell him. When Danny pulled up, Dwayne was already there, wearing just his fighting shorts, and doing one-finger pull-ups at the fitness trail. "Hey, Bruiser," said Danny as he walked up to him. "I hear the fight went well." "Short and sweet, just like they'll all be. I'm switching to parkour." "Oh yeah? You gonna be leaping over tall buildings in a single bound?" "Don't laugh," said Dwayne, dropping off the pull-up bar. Veins ran up and down his arms, across his delts, and into his chest. "How's Jake?" "Hot as hell. And he loves it when I breed him." "As he should. You still on the wrestling team?" "Nah, I gave that up. Who's gonna beat these?" said Danny, flexing his arms. "They're peaking up to 26 inches now. "Bearhug me with them," challenged Dwayne. Danny grinned, then stepped up to Dwayne, and wrapped his massive arms around him. Then he squeezed. "Damn you are solid," said Danny, as he hoisted Dwayne off the ground. "Hell yeah, I am," said Dwayne, kissing Danny on his 24" neck. "Squeeze harder." Danny wrapped his arms around him harder. He'd be crushing most guy like a tube of toothpaste with the force he was applying, but Dwayne seemed unaffected. "And now I know why," said Danny. He liked how much strength he could use on Dwayne. It turned him on. That, and Dwayne's sucking on his thick bull neck. "Those grad students I told you about? They found out why Ivan's stuff works so well." "Yeah?" said Dwayne. Then he started sucking on Danny's earlobe. "Harder, man." Danny squeezed harder, his forearms bulging to 19 inches. "Yeah. It completely shuts down the myostatin gene and allows for unfettered growth of muscle and strength." "No shit? Can they replicate it?" "Yeah, they think they can." Danny dug his clamped fists deeper into Dwayne's lower back. "Why you think I'm not slabbing on mass like you?" asked Dwayne. "I'm not sure, but you're at least as strong as I am, and I'm pretty sure you've got other skills coming on strong." "Yeah, you're right. What's Ivan think about these guys making the stuff?" Both of them were sweating now, making it harder to grip onto Dwayne's granite muscle. They were both hard. "He's happy he won't have to go back to Poland anytime soon." "I bet...Harder, man, I'm starting to feel it now." Danny grunted and squeezed. Dwayne arched back in the bearhug. "Oh yeh, bro, that's is power!" They turned their heads toward each other and kissed. When they broke off the kiss, Dwayne said, "I've been hooking up with your dad." "Yeah, I know," said Danny, and then he kissed Dwayne again. "I've seen him getting more muscular, just like Jack. I caught him flexing in the mirror the other day." "I know. It's hot as fuck." "Dad thinks you can read his mind, maybe even control his thoughts." "Maybe a little. I think it's more the power of suggestion. Although sometimes, when I want his tongue to go to a specific spot, it goes right there. It's like I'm guiding it with my mind." "That's wild." "I know. Hey, you squeezing as hard as you can yet?" "Almost," said Danny. "Go full bore, I wanna try something." Danny tightened his grip around Dwayne and squeezed him in with his huge sweaty arms. Both of them grunted. Then Dwayne, with his arms trapped to his sides, started pushing outward with them. At first nothing happened, but then Dwayne felt Danny's arms open up a little from the pressure. Dwayne pushed harder, and Danny felt his grip slipping. Danny's neck veins popped out as he tried to maintain his hold, but Dwayne's arm strength pushed his hands apart. Dwayne was now able to move his arms, and he slid his hands up to the crook of Danny's elbows, and broke his bearhug. Dwayne's feet hit the ground, and he stepped back out of Danny's hold. "Dude, geezus," said Danny, huffing, his thick torso red and welted from holding Dwayne so hard. "I can't believe it either. You're so huge." Dwayne's torso was also reddened and welted. Sweat rolled off of him. "And you got freak strength, man." "I know. And I can feel it growing. Follow me." Dwayne led Danny over to an old wrought iron fence that bordered one side of the park. It lined the property of an old mansion that was on the other side. Dwayne went up to the fence, grabbed a railing in each hand, and ripped a four foot section of the fence out of the ground, and yanked it free of the rest of the fence. He held it out at arm's length and began to press in on it. Cords of muscle popped out all over his forearms and delts. Striations rippled across his chest. He bent over slightly as the iron began to fold in like an accordion, and his lats flared out with his effort. The four foot section soon became a two foot section. He bent over farther, and his abs crunched out like big cobblestones, as the fencing bunched up on itself like a cheap window blind until it was compressed to one foot. Dwayne lifted it into the air like a trophy. Then he tossed it to Danny, who caught it one-handed. He wrapped his fingers around the end pieces and pulled. The wrought iron began to open back up, creaking loudly as it did. Danny pulled and pulled, stretching the iron like taffy, his huge arms and chest swelling, until it became a five foot section of misshapen metal. "You ain't weak, either," Dwayne said to him. "Bro... I feel like...." Danny said, holding the iron fence in one arm and curling it slow and hard, watching his biceps swell to 27 inches. "Breaking into the mansion?" "Yeah....and then..." "Fucking each others' brains out?" "You reading my mind?" "Nah, I'm just thinking the same way. And I want to..." "Fuck in every room of the place?" "Shit, yeah. Now who's reading who?" The two of them walked thru the opening in the fence. Danny jammed the twisted up section back into place the best he could. They headed up the hill toward the empty house. The front gate had a For Sale sign on it. "You know what we should do?" said Danny, as they climbed the front steps. "Turn this place into a private gym," said Dwayne. "Fuck, you are reading my mind, you freak," said Danny. Dwayne laughed. "I know, but it is an awesome idea. We can get your dad to invest in it. And we'll only let in geeks and dorks. Build them up huge and powerful. Maybe even psychic." "Exactly. And Ted thinks they can make an even stronger formula. Imagine what could happen." "Dude. It'll be like Hogwarts for future muscle monsters." They kissed again on the front porch. Then Danny got ready to slam his basketball-sized shoulder into the front door. "Wait," said Dwayne. He grabbed the realtor's box that was hanging on the front doorknob between his thumb and index finger and crushed it until the key fell out. "You got finesse," said Danny. "Just don't wanna damage the goods," said Dwayne, opening the door. "Let's go see the future." And the two of them stepped inside.
  10. happy birthday youngster!

  11. Thanks for the feedback, guys. And I think that's a great visual for what Dwayne would look like, xm.
  12. When Danny moved into his dorm room, Jack had already been there for a couple days. Jack wasn't there when he arrived, so Danny did a little reorganizing. It didn't take him long. He moved the two twin beds together and made them one. Then he scooped all of Jack's clothes out of the closet and tossed them into a heap on the floor. He hung up the clothes he had brought, which were 3 stringer tanks and two pair of sweatpants. He put his UA briefs and a couple of posers into a drawer. He was done by the time Jack showed up. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Jack said, annoyed. "Hey, Roomie," said Danny with a big grin on his face. "You're not my....where's Tip?" Dwayne's sister had made good on her promise to switch Tip to another dorm without either of the jock buddies knowing about it. "Tip decided to move on," said Danny. He was shirtless, and his massive frame filled the small dorm room, making him look even bigger. "You're rooming with me now." He flexed his huge arm in the wall mirror that was next to the closet. Jack was stunned as Danny's peak rose up and up. "24+ inches," said Danny, squeezing his arm harder. "Looks bigger than your quad, little man." Jack gulped hard, seeing that huge arm. No wonder Danny could pile drive him all over the wrestling mats. "What are all my clothes doing on the floor?" asked Jack. "I need the whole closet," said Danny, as he continued to watch himself flex in the mirror. "You've only got a couple things in there!" cried Jack. "They need space to air out," Danny said, rolling his fists and watching his 18" forearms bunch up with ropey muscle. Despite his straightness, Jack started to chub up in his pants at the sight of his roommate's brute size. "Why are the beds pushed together??" asked Jack. "Dude, you think I'm gonna fit on one twin bed? Look at me. I need them both." Danny hit a latspread, and his wings flared out wider than the two beds together. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" "That's not my problem. Anyway, there's a nice pile of clothes in the corner, sleep on that." Danny heaved out his 68" chest, then leaned toward the mirror, and ran his fingers along the striations in his pecs. "Damn it," said Jack, pulling out his phone. In a flash, Danny grabbed Jack's wrist with his left hand and squeezed. Jack's knees almost buckled as he dropped the phone. Danny snagged the falling phone with his right hand, then he shoved it into the deep muscle crevice between his big pecs. The phone nearly disappeared into his cleavage. And when Danny flexed his chest, the phone did disappear into it. Then there was a muffled crunching sound as Jack's phone crumpled from the hard muscle compressing it together. Danny pulled the broken phone from between his mounded pectoral muscles and tossed it across the room. "What are you doing this for, man?" asked Jack, his heart pounding hard, both from fear and from awe. Danny walked into Jack, pushing him back to the wall. He grabbed Jack in a one-handed choke hold, and slid him up the wall until the were eye to eye. Danny leaned into Jack's face until their noses were an inch apart. "Funny," he said, "I used to ask you the same thing." When Danny saw the puzzled look on Jack's face, he said, "You don't remember me?" He leaned in closer, their noses nearly touching. Jack shook his head No. "Danny the Dork doesn't ring a bell for ya?" Jack stared hard into Danny's eyes. He choked out "Dude...no way. That kid was a fat butterball....." But then Jack realized, the face did seem familiar. The jaw had squared off and bulged with muscle. The brow was more pronounced. It sat atop a 24" column of neck muscle. But still. "Dude, no fucking way. How?" "I started lifting," Danny said simply. "You like the look, Jackie? I got 200lbs plus on you now, all of it muscle." "I'm not into it, man," gurgled Jack, starting to squirm. "Oh yeah?" Danny pressed his 8pak abs into Jack's hardon and pinning him more firmly to the wall. "I'm feeling something that says different." "You're choking me, dude," said Jack, trying to change the subject. But he couldn't help bucking against Danny's thick ab wall. The firmness of it felt so good. Danny pushed against him harder. "Dude, I could snap your neck like pretzel stick," said Danny. This made Jack even harder. "I did it 'cause I liked you," choked out Jack. This made Danny let go of his throat hold. Jack stayed pinned against the wall by Danny's chest and abs. "What?" asked Danny. "I liked you, man. I couldn't hang out with you because, you know how it is. So I just teased you a little, that's all." "You call pissing in my shampoo and telling everyone about it is 'teasing'?" said Danny, darkly. He pressed Jack harder into the cinder block wall. "What?" Jack struggled to think. "Oh man, that wasn't me. That was Tip. He just told everyone I did it. He was always doing shit like that. I liked you. I always felt bad for you when you got picked last for every team in gym class. It was either you or that other kid, what was his name?" "Dwayne." "Yeh, him. I picked on you to make you tougher, 'cause that's what my dad always did to me, told me it'd make me a better man. And look how it worked, Danny. I'm a state champ wrestler, I haven't lost a match since freshman year. And now you're a massive muscle beast. Look at the size of you." And with that, Jack put his hands on Danny's bullneck and started groping it. "God man, the strength in your neck alone. Fuck. I bet I can't even choke you." Jack wrapped his hands around Danny's neck and pressed into it with his thumbs. They didn't dent into the muscle at all. "Geezus, man," said Jack. "I got a real strong grip, but it's like I'm pushing on marble." Danny swelled with pride, and his dick swelled too, as Jack tried to choke him harder, with no effect. Danny flexed his neck, and felt Jack's fingers being pushed apart. Farther and farther apart as his neck swelled and his traps rose up and merged with it like an ox yoke. "Dude, your power...." Jack was getting harder too. He leaned into Danny's face and kissed him. Danny was taken aback, but he kissed back. The two of them kissed hard and long. Jack's precum made his dick slide up and down Danny's hard abs more and more smoothly. He groaned as he felt how muscular Danny's tongue was as they French kissed deeper and deeper. When Jack finally broke the kiss, he put his hands on Danny's soccer ball sized delts and said, "Man, make me your bitch. I never done it with a dude before, but I want you to breed me with your size and power. I want it in me." "I hated your guts for so long," said Danny. "No you didn't," said Jack. "You wanted me, just like everybody else. Look at me, man, I'm perfect. And look at you now, you're beyond perfect. You're a fucking god, dude. You got muscle on your muscles. You make me look scrawny." Jack started groping Danny's lats. "Oh man, you're a god..." Danny's heart was beating so hard that it made his gums throb. Holding Jack like this, so close, he realized that the cocky jock was right. He had always wanted him. He lusted for him as much as he hated him. And now he had him in his arms. The emotions were so confusing, but he was so turned on he could barely control himself. He had to fuck something, why not this perfect physical specimen that he could flop around like a rag doll? "Yeah?" said Danny. "You want me to pop your cherry, Jackie?" Jack almost came. "Yeh, man. All my life, I've been the one in control, the alpha. Take that from me, man. Own me. Bruise me up like you did at practice, only deeper." Danny picked Jack up, spun him around, and bent him over on the desktop. He pulled Jack's shorts down around his ankles. Then he pulled off his own shorts, then his jockstrap. His dick popped out, bigger and thicker than Jack's by about half again, his big veins pulsing as they pumped him full staff. He wasn't sure he bought Jack's whole story, but it didn't matter. He was going to fuck him with the full power of his huge glutes and thick tree trunk quads. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up with it. His dick was so sensitive now, he could stroked himself all day. But instead, he scooped up his precum and slathered Jack's hot bubble butt with it. Then he popped his big helmet into the wrestling jock's tight hole. "Fuckkk," both of them groaned out at the same time. Danny sank in deeper. And deeper. Down to the root. Then he started bucking rhythmically, grunting with each buck. Jacked gripped onto the desk, which banged into the doorframe over and over again, harder and harder, until finally, the frame of the door cracked when one of Danny's powerful thrusts smashed the desk into it. Danny lifted Jack off the desk and started air fucking him, his huge powerful arms pumping Jack's 200lbs body up and down on his dick. Up and down he went, while Danny's 415lbs of rock hard beef powerfucked his hard jock ass. The temperature in the small dorm room had soared from their body heat, and sweat poured off both of them, dripping onto the floor. Danny slammed Jack back down on the desk to finish inside of him. He pinned him down with one big hand in the middle of Jack's back. Jack had never felt such complete pleasure. Such total lack of control. Such freedom. Being bred like a bitch, and he loved it. "Danny. Danny. Danny," he said, over and over, as Danny rammed past his prostate again and again, his sweat dripping off his chin and his pecs, all over Jack's back. "Godddam you mutherfucking hot little sonofabitch........" Danny roared as he came deep inside Jack. "Aww geeezus fuckk Danny," moaned Jack, as he busted all over the desk from the feeling of pressure from Danny's big club inside him, and the hot muscle batter filling him up. They stayed the way they were for awhile, both breathing deep and heavy. Danny finally slid out of Jack, and even that feeling almost overwhelmed Jack with pleasure. He stayed on the desktop while Danny picked up one of Jack's shirts from the pile of clothes and wiped his dick off with it. He tossed the shirt aside, then picked up one of Jack's tee shirts and wiped his own sweat off with it. Then he used the tee to wipe off Jack's back. Then he lifted Jack up in his arms like a babe, and laid him on the clothes. "Looks like it's going to be a fun semester," said Danny, flexing his 24+ biceps, fresh sweat rolling down his thick lats as he stood over Jack. "You're telling me," sighed Jack, sinking into his pile of clothes. -- . . -- -- . . -- Meanwhile, back at home, Dwayne was warming up for his fight night by jogging thru the park. He didn't have on his weighted vest, so he felt like he could almost take off and fly, he was feeling so strong. It was going to be Dwayne's first fight, but his gym manager had lined him up with a guy who was 11-0. "If you beat this guy," the manager told him, "you're on your way." Dwayne laughed and said, "Oh, I'm on my way already." As he jogged out of the park and onto the street, he noticed a guy on a bike headed in his direction, riding on the wrong side of the road. Dwayne realized in a second that it was Tip, his former tormentor. "I guess he didn't get his car fixed yet," Dwayne chuckled to himself. He couldn't believe he was running into him again. Dwayne purposefully headed right towards him. When Tip looked up and saw the shirtless Dwayne coming at him, he started to wobble wildly on his bike. He veered up and over the curb, and ran right into a telephone pole, falling off the bike onto the sidewalk. Dwayne sauntered over to him. "You should be more careful, dude," said Dwayne. "And you should wear your helmet tighter. Look, it fell right off." Dwayne leaned over and picked up the bike helmet. "Leave me alone," said Tip, rubbing his scuffed up knee. "Funny, I remember saying that to you a bunch of times in high school," said Dwayne, rolling the helmet around in his hands. "You never listened. And now, your helmet is all busted up." Tip looked at the helmet, and said, "No it isn't, it's barely scratched." "Look a little closer," said Dwayne. He leaned over and put the helmet in Tip's face. Then he snapped it in two with his bare hands. "How about that? Where'd you get this cheap thing?" he said, tossing the broken pieces aside. "Fuck," said Tip. "And your bike...Man, it's completely mangled." "No it isn't," said Tip. "The front tire's just a little bent. I could probably still ride it." "You're not looking close enough," said Dwayne. He picked the bike up, and every muscle on his rippling torso tightened up as he bent the frame in two. "See," he said, "the tires are touching each other. Let me try and fix it." He bent the bike frame back and forth a couple of times, until it snapped apart in his hands. "I hope you didn't pay much for this cheap thing." "Fuck man, I paid $800 dollars for that just last week. Fuck. You gotta pay me back." "Oh, I'm paying you back alright." Dwayne looked Tip over. "You didn't break any bones in your fall, did ya? 'Cause I'm seeing some broken bones." Dwayne leaned over and grabbed Tip's upper arm with his left hand. He lifted Tip up off the sidewalk like a marionette. Then he dug his fingers into Tip's arm muscle. Tip yelled out in pain. "Yeah, this bone might be broken, man, this shouldn't hurt so much when I squeeze it." He yanked Tip's arm back and forth. Then he pulled Tip in close. "Maybe you're right, the bone's not broken. But you're gonna have some real deep tissue bruising on this arm, bro. Look at the veins on my forearm, popping out all over, feeding my muscle with crushing strength. You feeling it, Tippy?" "Yes, yes. God, stop man!" Dwayne let go of Tip's arm. Tip back away quickly, holding his arm, and leaned against the telephone pole. He looked over at the street. "Don't try it," said Dwayne. "Try what?" "Running into the street to get away. First of all, you'd probably get hit by a car. Secondly, I'd snag you in under a second, because I'm 5 times faster than you now." "How'd you know...." "Cause I'm reading your mind, Tippy. And it's scary in there. All full of cobwebs, slowing down your synapses. Nothing much going on except simple vapid thoughts." Tip was starting to get panicky. He thought about his father's gun. "You can try and shoot me, dude, but it won't work," said Dwayne. "This muscle is bulletproof." Dwayne rubbed his hand down his hard muscled torso. "I'd just pick up the bullet and crush it flat between my thumb and index finger." He picked up a stone from the sidewalk, held it in front of Tip's nose, and cracked it with his two fingers. Then he ground it together between his fingertips until it crumbled into grit. Tip flinched back. Dwayne almost wondered if he really might be bulletproof. "Don't worry, dude, I won't hurt you. Although I could. Look at my arm," said Dwayne, bringing up his right arm and flexing it. The biceps peaked up high and hard, with a muscle density that Tip had never witnessed before. "Now watch this," said Dwayne. He stared at his peak, and willed it to grow. He smiled as the top of his arm rose up another half inch, another peak on his already high peak. "Aw yeah," he growled in satisfaction. "And look at the abs, Tippy. They look like they're flexed, don't they?" Tip nodded his head up and down weakly. "Well, they're not." With that, Dwayne clenched down on his abs, and his 8pak exploded with striations, into what he called his 32pak. Tip slid halfway down the telephone pole, stunned, his face even with Dwayne's wall of shred. "That's a sight to behold, isn't it, boy?" Dwayne said, looking down at the deflated bully. Then Dwayne had a thought. He remembered how Mr K went down on his knees after Dwayne wished for it. He wasn't sure at the time if it was just coincidence, that Mr K wanted to crawl over to him on his knees to pleasure him, or if Dwayne had influenced him with his mind. He'd been studying some hypnosis, and they said you couldn't make anyone do something that they didn't want to do, but he wondered. So without saying a word, he stared at Tip, and he thought to himself, "Hit yourself, Tip." And he watched as Tip slowly made a fist with his right hand, then punched himself in the face. "Whoa," said Dwayne. Then, he thought to himself, "Hit yourself harder." And Tip punched himself in the nose, this time harder, and it knocked his head back into the pole. A small tickle of blood came out of his nose. "Holy shit," thought Dwayne. He felt his dick thicken in his shorts. He wondered if he ordered Tip to blow him right here on the sidewalk, if he would do it. But he had no interest in that. He sensed that Tip was an easy mark, not worth much of his effort. Instead, he reached up on the telephone pole behind tip, and grabbed onto the lowest climbing rung. It was rusty with age, but still sturdy. Dwayne bent it back and forth with his hand, until it snapped off. "fuckkk," said Tip, not quite believing his eyes. Dwayne looked at him and thought, "hold out your arm," and Tip's arm went up toward him. Dwayne took the thick rung in both hands, then bent it around Tip's wrist until the ends crossed. "There's a little bracelet for you to remember me by, pinhead," said Dwayne, as he tightened the iron rung around Tip's wrist. "Don't try and take it off though, because if I ever see you without it, my feelings will be real hurt. I might think you're breaking up with me, and I wouldn't like that." The defeated look on Tip's face made Dwayne feel bad for him. Poor dimwitted jock never thought anyone would get the best of him. Payback can be a bitch. "Why don't you get going now, dude, before I use your bike frame to decorate you some more." Dwayne picked up the busted frame and handed it to Tip. "I have a fight to get ready for," said Dwayne. The befuddled Tip watched the powerfully muscled former nerd jog away down the street. He couldn't believe he was ever able to pick on him. He wondered who would be stupid enough to step into the ring against such a freak.
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