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Jaypat last won the day on May 16

Jaypat had the most liked content!

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About Jaypat

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    250+ Posts


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  • This profile is a...
    real profile.
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  • What are your interests?
    Muscle Growth
  • What are your stats?
    5'6" hovering around 200 lbs. 17 inch biceps
  • What are you seeking?
    Muscle Growth Stories
  • What are your dream stats?
    6' 2" 300 lbs 22 inch biceps
  • Favorite Stories
    Simon's Affirmation, 20 something inches, The Charge
  • Favorite Bodybuilders
    Daniel Roman, Aaron Clark
  • Got Any Fetishes?
    Muscle growth pretty much covers it.

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  1. Okay, the polls have closed and it's pretty clear you guys don't want to give Mitch his walking papers. Stay tuned. Hopefully, I'll have the next part up this weekend. Well, at this point, you're really not supposed to see it, just like Jared can't see it. Making him tougher may not actually be the goal here. Jared's in for a tough time; that's for sure. Thank you for your faith. I will try to be worthy of it. A lot of that depends on whether the disastrous people had your best interests at heart when they reigned disaster upon you. You won't have to wait much longer, just til the weekend.
  2. You don’t really answer right away. That thing about promising to do whatever they ask bothers you. But the waitress buys you a little time when she starts bringing plate after plate after plate of food for Mitch. “Those trials you were talking about?” you ask. “Yeah,” says Mitch. You figure you better get your questions in before he starts eating. “How long do they last?” you ask. “That depends entirely on you,” says Mitch. “Some guys get through them in just a few days. I took a few weeks. But I heard of one guy who took over a year! Seriously, I don’t know how anyone could stand that for a year!” “That bad?” “They are not fun,” says Mitch. “You will not enjoy them.” “When do they stop?” you ask. “They stop when you’re ready,” said Mitch. “When’s that?” you ask. “You’ll know,” Mitch says. “Sorry, that’s all I can tell you.” You take another look at Mitch’s amazing physique, his giant sculpted muscles and his bulging veins and you decide to go for it. After all, if Mitch could get through it, so can you. “I’m in,” you say. “You’re sure?” Mitch asks. “Remember, no turning back.” “Where do I sign,” you say. “A hand shake will do,” says Mitch. “It’s a bond of honor that will hold you, whether you want it to or not.” “I want it to,” you say. “Okay,” says Mitch and the two of you shake. “While I’m your mentor, I can’t be your friend,” says Mitch. “Why not?” you say, alarmed. “Because I’m going to have to be tough on you and do things a friend would never do.” “That sounds ominous,” you say. “But don’t worry about that now,” says Mitch. “Let’s go over to your place and have one last night of gaming. Then, tomorrow, meet me in the Downtown Fitness Center locker room at 6:30 am and we’ll get started.” “Sounds good,” you say and you sit there and watch Mitch devour a ridiculously large meal while you nibble on your cheese burger and fries and try to contain your excitement for tomorrow. That evening is awesome! It’s just like last summer all over again, except for Mitch’s humongous physique, which you can’t stop staring at. But Mitch doesn’t seem to mind. The next morning, you get up bright and early, pack your gym bag and head for the Downtown Fitness Center. You get there 10 minutes early. You figure its just enough time to change into your gym gear. Mitch shows up at 6:30 on the dot, but he’s dressed in his jeans, which his massive muscle pylon legs are stretching to their limit. “It’s 6:30 and you’re not ready,” you say, grinning. “We’re not here to work out,” says Mitch. “We’re not?” you say. “I hope you don’t hate me,” said Mitch. “Hate you?” you say. “It’s been bothering me,” says Mitch. “I hated my mentor, right up until my initiation. Now, I’m grateful to the guy. We’re good friends. And the thing is, I think he went easy on me a few times. I think if he hadn’t, I’d have gotten through the trials a lot quicker. “So, I’m not going easy on you, Jared. I’m going to be just as tough as I can be. And, well… I hope you don’t hate me.” “I don’t think I’m gong to hate you,” you say. “That’s what you say now,” says Mitch. “Come over here for a minute.” Mitch leads you to a spot just around the corner from the sinks. There’s one guy in there and he’s pretty big. “You see that guy?” says Mitch. “His name is John Stanton and he’s a total douche. He has a hot girlfriend called Sarah Gibbons who he is insanely possessive of…” Suddenly Mitch starts shouting. “And you wanna fuck her?! You wanna fuck Sarah Gibbons? Dude, she is so hot! And you think she looks like a total slut? You’re shittin me? Dude, I gotta hear all about this. I’ll be right back.” “What are you doing?” you say, genuinely alarmed. That John Stanton dude does not look amused and he is heading right toward you. “This is a joke, right? That guy is a friend of yours, maybe another member of the cult, right?” “Hold that thought,” says Mitch, “and stay here. I’ll be right back.” And Mitch leaves the locker room with amazing speed for someone so big. What the…? Where’s he going and at a time like this? “Hey Asshole!” comes a thundering voice from behind you. You turn around only to be confronted with a pissed off John Stanton, and… he’s even bigger up close. “John, right?” you say, offering your hand, but he does not stop mad dogging you for second. “Jerad,” you introduce yourself. I think there’s been a little misunders—” “You’re taking shit about my girl!” And with the first punch that hits you, you realize that this guy is not Mitch’s friend. And with the second, you start to wonder if you’re Mitch’s friend. And with the third… well, you stop counting with the third. When he’s done, John Stanton grabs his gear and storms out of the room. And then you look up, and, almost like magic, Mitch is back. “Welcome to the trials, Jerad,” he says. “I told you you wouldn’t like them.” “If that isn’t the understatement of the century!” you say. “What the fuck was that in aid of?” Mitch just shrugs and says, “The trials.” “What does that mean?” you say. “It means I can’t give you answers,” says Mitch. “Okay, International Man of Mystery, after due consideration, I don’t think this trial-thing is gonna be for me,” you say. “Too late, bro,” says Mitch. “You’re committed. I’m your mentor and you can walk away from me, but you can’t walk away from the trials. They will find you, now, wherever you are. Trust me, it’s better with a guide.” So, what do you do? Mitch says you can’t walk away from the trials, but you’re willing to give it a try. Do you tell Mitch what he can go do with himself? Or do you accept that what Mitch is telling you is true, that you’re stuck with these trial-things and that you’re better off with him than without him?
  3. Too easy? Thank you very much. I hope you continue to enjoy it. More mystery to come! If more people were curious like you, you might find out. You know it's not going to be that simple. I'm pretty sure we'll be revisiting what happened with the roommate later in the story. No choice will stop the story. If people choose. "No, i won't sign blindly" you might get a story more like Elongro where Mitch could recruit Jared's younger brother and then the two of them would just get bigger and bigger and bigger until they became massive muscle giants and left poor Jared in the dust. -- But that's just one way that choice could go. There are other ways the story might develop if Jared says no. I don't want anyone to think that any choice is just going to end the story. But most people seem to be of the Damn-the-torpedos-full-speed-ahead mentality. And that's cool too.
  4. “Of course, I want to get jacked like you. Are you kidding me? Look at those muscles, huge, iron, sculpted masses! They’re fucking awesome! And dude, 20 minutes ago, you lifted my car, my freaking car! Who wouldn’t want to be that fucking yoked, that fucking powerful? So, how’d you do it?” “Well,” Mitch said, grinning down at me, and giving those massive, juggernaut arms a little extra flex, “It all started last fall during the first week of school. All these organizations had tables set up outside on the quad to recruit new members. I wasn’t really sure I wanted to join anything, but I was bored, so, I thought I’d just look around. Just about every organization you ever heard of was there, everything from the Young Republicans to Greenpeace. “I didn’t see anything that made me want to rush over and sign up. But then in the far corner, just past the Flat Earth Society, I saw this table with these two huge dudes manning it. I mean they were way taller than anyone else there and their muscles were giant, chiseled boulders. I’d never seen anyone like them in real life. They looked a little intimidating so I wasn’t surprised no one was talking to them. But I felt… I don’t know… compelled to go over there. “They were representing an organization called the Cult of the Muscle Gods. And looking at them, well, I thought they looked like muscle gods themselves. And as I walked up, the looks they gave me, it was like they were trying to scare me away. But I went over anyway. “So, are you like a fitness club, or something?” I asked. “No,” the huge dude answered, “We are an organization dedicated to eliminating the plague of weak and puny men, like you.”” I almost waked away after that crack, but something kept me there; I couldn’t say exactly what. “You want to kill us?” I said. “No,” he laughed, “we want to cure you.” “Cure me?” I parroted. “Sure,” he said. “Rob and I used to be about your size, didn’t we Rob?” Rob nodded once, never breaking that intimidating scowl. “Then we found the muscle gods,” he continued “They helped us evolve into our true selves. And they can do the same for you.” He definitely had my interest. I mean, I’d always felt like I could be bigger, and these guys, well they were just massive. By this point, I had pretty much made up my mind that they were some kind of extreme bodybulding club. And even though I’d never gone in for anything like that before, I found myself signing up for their group. But before I did, they gave me a warning. It would be my only chance to sign up for the cult, and once I did, they would not allow me to back out of it. “Forced to get bigger,” I remember thinking. “That might be exactly what it would take for me to actually do it.” So, I signed. Then came the initiation trials. They were tough, a lot tougher than I could have ever imagined. I began to realize that these guys were dead serious about this shit and I wondered if maybe I hadn’t leaped before I looked. I don’t mind telling you there were days that if I could have backed out, I would have. But I got through it. Then, blindfolded, they took me to their main temple. They made me dress in this ceremonial robe, and it was at this point that it finally sank in: these guys were more than just an extreme bodybuilding club. Again, I got that feeling that I might be in over my head. They escorted me to the center of their temple and then the high priest came out. Holy crap! This was the biggest human being I’d ever seen-- or even heard of! He was well over 7 feet tall and all massive, sculpted muscle. I estimated one of his muscle pylon legs outweighed my entire body. He made me repeat some oaths about dedicating myself to getting bigger as well as to their core mission of bringing muscle and power to all men everywhere. He welcomed me into their brotherhood and suddenly I just started growing. It was the most intense sensation I’d ever experienced. My body was suddenly getting hard all over, swelling up, with iron-like, chiseled muscle. I felt my abs bulge into steely mounds, my shoulders expand into rocks, and my back widen into thick plates of rippling sinew. My biceps grew into, big, sculpted masses. I felt them straining against and then ripping right through the sleeves of that ceremonial robe, while my expanding pecs ripped right through the front. When it was done, I was probably about 2 inches taller and I’d put on about 30 pounds, all of it raw unadulterated muscle! I felt big and powerful, sensations I’d never experienced before, and I liked it. The ceremonial robe was in tatters and none of the clothes I had arrived in would fit me anymore. But they were prepared. They had clothes for me, just the right size. “Didn’t anyone noticed you’d gotten bigger,” I asked. “Not really,” said Mitch. “Well… my roommate kind of freaked, but that’s another story. “So are you ready,” he continued. “Do you want to commit to the cult, to getting bigger? Remember, once you do, there’s no turning back.” “What about those initiation trials you talked about?” I asked. “What were they?” “I can’t tell you that,” he said. “You mean I have to commit to these things without knowing what they are?” I asked. “Yup,” he said. “It’s the only way. Do you want to commit?” So, do you commit to doing what ever they ask you to, even before knowing what it is?
  5. Haven't thought about this story in a while. Just reread it myself. It actually holds up pretty well. Nice to see it's fondly remembered. Thanks for resurrecting it.
  6. You’re really happy to see your friend… but what the fuck happened to him? He’s huge! He’s mammoth! He has to be about a foot taller and he’s bulging out all over with sculpted, rippling muscle, way more than he should have been able to put on in the 9 months since you last saw him. You have to know what happened. There’s a little beach front diner across the causeway and you suggest you guys go there to grab a bite and catch up. “I don’t do just “bites” anymore,” said Mitch. “But it’s just about time for my next meal, so I’m down.” Mitch got dropped off at the beach, but you have your car. So, you bundle all his beach stuff in the back. The diner has a no shirt, no shoes, no service policy, but you have a t-shirt and flip flops. Mitch has flip flops, but what he puts on as a shirt, you’re not sure qualifies. Obviously designed to showcase his ridiculous physique, the neck line of this thing drops all the way past his huge, striated pecs to the top row of his bulging abs. To say it had no sleeves would be an understatement. This thing had no sides. Not only were his massive, veiny arms and segmented shoulders fully exposed, but his broad back was displayed as well, protruding out the open sides. You mention your doubts to Mitch, but he just says, “Trust me, bro, no one is going to call me on it. Would you?” Looking at you friends huge sculpted, veiny arms, you decide you probably wouldn’t. But the change in Mitch’s attitude was startling. He had this kind of “I’ll go where I want to go and do what I want to do” arrogance about him. He never had that before. You get into the car, which seems to be a little bit of a squeeze for Mitch. You are amazed at how much of the front he takes up. As you’re driving across the causeway, you feel the unmistakable bumping of your tire going flat. You get out and open the trunk for the spare and suddenly remember you lost your jack last fall. Mitch just shrugs and tells you to go ahead and loosen the lug nuts. You protest you don’t have a jack, but he just says, “Don’t worry about it. I got you covered.” You loosen the lug nuts and as soon as you do, there’s a jerk and the rear of your car starts to rise up off the ground. Holy crap! Mitch is lifting the rear of your car. You could see he had huge, chiseled muscles now but how strong was he? You sit there, staring dumbfounded for a minute, before Mitch says, “Are you going to change the tire, or what? I mean I could probably hold this all day, but I’m getting kind of hungry.” Pulling yourself back to the here and now, you continue changing the tire. When you’re done, Mitch sets the car down and you tighten the lug nuts. You try and think of something to say, but you can’t and you’re just quiet all the way to the diner. Of course, as soon as you walk in the door, it’s pandemonium. The server takes one look at Mitch and drops the tray she’s carrying. A wide-eyed little kid, waiting for a table with his mother, can’t stop staring at him. And he’s not alone. All across the diner, heads are turning to stare at Mitch. And he just seems to be loving every second of it. The flustered red-faced server seats you right away, even though there were people waiting before you. You sit there dumbfounded as Mitch orders basically half the menu. The server turns around to leave without taking your order. You stop her and order your much more conservative lunch. And when she finally leaves, you ask Mitch the question that’s been on your mind since you first saw him on the beach. “So, what happened to you, bro? How’d you get so big? And I don’t mean just jacked; you’re like a foot taller, too!” “I know,” said Mitch, grinning and flexing one of his massive biceps, which you guess is easily 5 times the size of yours. “Best thing I ever did,” he said. “My life is so much better now than last summer, when I was weak and puny like you.” “What did you say?” you say, not liking Mitch’s attitude one bit. “Don’t get your Jockeys in a twist, bro,” said Mitch. “Just about everybody’s weak and puny next to me. That’s half the fun.” “But how…?” you ask. “I could tell you,” said Mitch, “but first you have to answer one question for me.” “What?” you say. “Why are you asking?” said Mitch. “Is it just curiosity, the mystery of it? Or are you interested in starting down the same path? Be certain you mean what you say, because, once I answer, there’ll be no going back. And you can’t ask me this question ever again. I’ll only answer this once. So, why are you asking?”
  7. Okay, it's pretty clear you guys want to know how he got so huge. As I type this, I have an image rendering. So as soon as I get the next part done, I will post it. Should be up by Saturday.
  8. Continued from: Not really sure about what you're doing, you reach down and gently nudge the big dude on his huge, hard shoulder . His eyes fly open and before you can blink, he leaps up off the lounger and grabs you by your shoulder with an iron grip. Then, just as if you weighed nothing at all, he lifts you up off the ground by your shoulder and glares up at you. You struggle against him, but are completely powerless against, the incredible strength of that hugely muscled body. "Who the fuck do you think you're poking, little man!" he shouts. Then suddenly recognition breaks out on his face like the sun through a stormy sky. "Jared? Holy shit, dude! How the hell are you?" Suddenly, he pulls you into a bone crushing hug. You can feel his massive iron-hard arms digging into your back, while you're being slammed up against a torso that feels like it's made from rocks piled on top of each other. You're happy to see your friend, but at the same time confused about the changes in him. ...and there's a little pain involved, too. Finally, just when you think you ribs are going to start cracking, he sets you back down on the beach. What do you do now? Do you invite him back to your place to play video games and do your best not to mention that Mitch has somehow metamorphosed into a hugely muscled behemoth, and try to still have the summer you've been looking forward to? Do you suggest the two of you grab something to eat and then pump him for information on how he got so huge during the last 9 months? Or is this all too much for you. Do you need to go home for some alone time so you can process the startling change in your friend and figure out how you're going to deal with it?
  9. Okay, I closed the poll a little early, but the results have been pretty consistent the entire time it was open. You guys want to wake him up! Let's do it!
  10. You guys wanna try something? I have no idea how this going to turn out, but let's see what happens. Read the story snippet below and they chose what you think Jared, the main character, should do. Or feel free to propose your own option in the comments. Okay, here goes. About a year ago, you graduated from high school with your best friend, Mitch. You then had the best summer of your life, hanging with Mitch, playing video games, eating junk food, and endlessly discussing who was going to die in the next Avengers movie. You voted for Captain America. Mitch was positive it would be Thor. But like all things, last summer eventually came to an end. You both headed off to different schools in different parts of the country. Both of your school schedules proved a lot busier than you expected and you didn't have the time to talk, text, or skype that you thought you would. And a bad snow storm and a couple of missed flights meant you missed each other over the holidays too. But summer is back and you just got home. You realize Mitch must be back too. You try and call him but he doesn't pick up nor does he answer your texts. You decide to stop over and see him, but his brother tells you he's not there. He's gone down to the beach. "The beach?" you think. "That's weird. Mitch never goes to the beach." But you decide to grab your swimming trunks, go down there and find him. "The beach isn't that big," you think. "Should be pretty easy to track him down." But when you get there, you comb the whole place and you don't really see him. But just as you're getting ready to leave, you notice this massive guy asleep on his beach lounger. You do a double take. The face looks a lot like Mitch's, but the body... This dude is huge and yoked beyond belief. It couldn't possibly be Mitch... Or could it? It really did look like his face. What do you do? Do you wake him up to see if he's Mitch? Or do you go home and try calling your friend tomorrow? Vote on the poll page and we'll see where we go. Higher resolution versions of the images can be found here:
  11. Thanks everybody for all the views and reactions and especially the comments! You guys fuel me. To be honest, I needed someone for scale. Thank you very much! I'm glad you guys enjoyed it!
  12. “You know, eventually we’re going to have to get you some clothes,” said Peter. “Really?” said Jon. “Why? THE END
  13. “Across the catwalk and thrugh the emergency hatch,” said Jon. “But the hatch is locked,” said Peter. “That won’t be a problem,” said Jon, tensing his beyond massive arms, “not any more.” And the two of them started on the road to freedom.
  14. We they were finished, Peter rushed over to the console. “Just one more thing I’ve got to do,” he said. Come on,” said Jon, “We’ve gotta get outta here! They’ll be here any second. We’ve already taken too long.” “Any regrets?” said Peter. “Hell no!” said Jon. “But we still gotta go!” “I’m just setting the reactor to overload,” said Peter. “We’ve got about an hour before this place blows.” “An hour,” said Jon. “They’ll just shut it down.” “There’s no one here any more who knows how to do that,” said Peter. “ Now how do we get out of here?”
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