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      Help contribute, donate via PayPal or join with a monthly Patreon contribution.   01/01/17

      To help raise funds I've introduced a monthly contribution option called Pateron. This service allows you to pledge a monthly contribution plus allows me to offer you some rewards for your contribution. If you have any questions you may PM me. If you'd like to make that contribution please click on the image below:      
    • CMiller

      NEWS: Discord Server & Clubs (aka Groups) are back!   08/19/17

      Hello everyone I'm back with a couple big updates! Firstly we now have a Discord server, this is a real-time chat messaging client you can run on your phone, desktop, or anywhere. It's a pretty powerful desktop application that enables people to chat together, and with multiple channels you can find people interested in what you're interested in. If you don't already have a Discord account it's pretty easy to get one, just click the following invite link to get started: https://discord.gg/Ahzu9jC Secondly I'm proud to announce the return of Groups, it's been renamed to Clubs and is now available here: https://muscle-growth.org/clubs/. This system is entirely user generated and allows users to create groups of their own based on any subject they want. Go ahead and try it now, visit the link above to get started if you want to create or join a group!   As always thank you to all of our donators and Patreon contributors who keep the forums going! 

jman250

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About jman250

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    10+ Posts
  • Birthday 07/21/85

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    San Diego, CA
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    ---
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    Male
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    Gay
  • What are your interests?
    I do lots of things of interest. I'm kinda technical -- I made the last forum archive if you're curious. I like to lurk on the internet to emerge occasionally for no reason.
  • What are you seeking?
    The guy in my profile photo. Clearly, it's not me.

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  1. Muscle growth by fucking + evil brother

    I think you're looking for Turning 15 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12161-p1.html This story, incidentally, is one of the stories that sparked shutting down musclegrowth.org. The original story placed the main character at 15 years old, which sparked a very passionate conversation on both sides (different thread). The author made a very obvious edit to appease early in the story but it's otherwise identical.
  2. Even Exchange: The Mile High Club

    Hello all. It's been a while since I've posted a story. This is a short one that came together in about a day but still took forever for me to post. I was inspired by a story from a while back and, given a recent airplane encounter, felt the experiences meshed well. It's a slightly different take on muscle theft and I'm thinking of expanding it into a series of stand-alone stories. Let me know if you think that'd be worthwhile. Special thanks to @JadeDragon for his work proofing, and his diligent pruning of poorly placed adverbs! ==== Even Exchange: The Mile High Club ==== I sat down across from him. It’s rare to see such a specimen of manhood in real-life and I wanted a closer look. He definitely exuded something special, and his smoking-hot body helped draw my attention from the airport bustle. He seemed engrossed in his phone, crisp blue eyes never leaving the screen. Good thing too, because my admiration showed clear as day. He’d occasionally reach up to scratch the dusting of dirty blond hair on his chin, flexing slightly. The beard accentuated his square facial features but my eyes drew away to study the curve of his bicep. I was annoyed that I couldn’t determine his height; the dark waiting chairs slanted at odd angles so I’d have to wait until boarding. I marveled at the heavy pecs pushing against the white fabric of his palm tree patterned button-up shirt. A sudden voice jarred me to my senses, rudely pulling me back to reality. I jumped, the weight of my (currently) swimmer's build squeaking the canvas seats. The overhead speakers buzzed for an announcement. “Please check any extra bags as this is a completely full flight. We’re about to begin boarding. Line up according to the number printed on your boarding pass.” He looked up and I averted my eyes, as I was afraid of him catching my obvious stare. His biceps rounded, bringing a boarding pass into view. He sighed heavily, causing his shirt to bunch around his torso. With reluctance, I stood and got into my boarding position. Gods, I prayed, please let him sit next to me! I did my best not to touch anyone's bare skin during the crowded boarding process. Not because I'm a germaphobe, it’s just inconvenient having a jumble of other people’s useless feelings and sensations crowding my own. I boarded, found the first empty overhead space halfway down the cabin, and excused myself after asking the aisle occupant to move aside. I took the window seat and watched the forward door. Then I waited for the magnificent stranger to board the plane. It took a while. I absently played with the colorful pendant hanging around my neck. The forward cabin crowded, overhead bins closing as they filled one by one. And then I spotted him, red backpack in hand leading the way. I held my breath as he approached. He opened one, then two, then three overhead bins. All full. He passed me, my neck craning to watch him walk away. Curses. Then he opened the bin behind my row and pushed his backpack inside. “Can I get in here?” He spoke to the aisle occupant. I couldn’t believe my luck! These things don’t actually happen in real-life. My heart beat faster, my grip tightened on the armrests. The aisle occupant moved aside and the man of my admiration sat down in the unoccupied center, directly next to me. He was next to me! Thank the gods for small favors. We all shifted as he settled into his seat. I took stock of the thick legs occupying the limited space next to mine. His shoulders filled the seat and forced his arm to take the entire armrest. I didn’t mind. I slipped my elbow behind his own, nervously trying not to draw attention. I struggled not to glance sideways too often. We took off without issue, leaving our uninteresting valley behind. We ordered drinks and he closed his eyes in the dark cabin. Eventually, our drink orders came. The attendant handed him a half club soda and half tomato juice. In a kind gesture, he reached for my water. I did too and our fingers touched. In that moment a flash of information flooded into my brain! I felt the cold plastic in his fingers, the strain of his shirt against pumped biceps, the bulk of his legs pressed uncomfortably together. Wow, I thought. I always loved the rush. My cock jumped and my heart thudded but he felt nothing. Smiling, he apologized for his helpfulness and finished handing me the glass. I smiled back but for different reasons. He finished his drink and drifted off to sleep. I’d never been this lucky before! These things normally required coercing. Nevertheless, I always keep my cock extra-large for chance encounters like this. It has its uses in more ways than the obvious. I focused on him, his own dick wasn’t bad -- average length but not particularly thick. It felt comfortable in its confined space regardless of the cramped airline seat and his muscled thighs. I looked him up and down, his mouth slightly ajar in his sleep. I smiled at his handsome face. His features really were stunning. I moved my fingers to gently touch his. It’s always slightly odd, feeling two different sensations simultaneously. His cock thickened and lengthened ever so slightly as my own receded, and then it thickened and lengthened again. And again. And again. I reveled in the feeling of his cock getting tight in his underwear. The sensation caused my own member to harden into my now roomier briefs. His cut cock started feeling uncomfortably cramped. I grew it larger one more time, smiling knowingly. That should be enough. I peered around and fished a card from my carry-on bag. It drifted softly from my practiced fingers into his shirt pocket. He’d be sure to find it there later. The flight continued normally. The attendants moved to the front for another round of drinks. We hit turbulence and he elbowed me in the side, waking with a start. I turned my head and smiled at him and he smiled back, mouthing a small apology before shifting in his seat. But he couldn’t get comfortable. I could feel his cramped cock pressed against his thighs. It felt unusually heavy. After a few minutes, he tapped the aisle occupier’s shoulder and asked to be let past. “While you’re up,” I said while rising, addressing the aisle occupant. I flashed a polite smile as I also slid past. My neighbor walked oddly towards the plane’s rear. He appeared to be two or three inches taller than me, maybe around five foot 11. It was obvious to me that he walked with a waddle, unconsciously trying to make more space between his legs. His ass looked amazing. It was tight, round and filled the seat his jeans to perfection. A quick pull and the lavatory door swung outward as he slipped inside. The stall directly across showed a green “vacant” so I took it for myself. What luck! Time to make a move. I didn’t expect much in return -- people didn’t often connect the dots on their own, usually so confused they passed me by. But maybe I’d be able to sneak a feel of those hard arms. I concentrated on him. I felt his agile fingers pull against metal, then metal again with a slow downward slide. Then cotton being moved and … relief! Then a pause, and I grinned. I could feel skin against skin and a warmth on his now much heavier cock. “Yep, it’s real,” I thought to myself. Nothing much happened for a minute or two. It’s difficult the first time, having something familiar unexpectedly change. I know from personal experience. His crotch felt compressed again -- I had to act fast! I slowly and softly unlatched my door. It swung outward noiselessly to an empty corridor. His own door opened and wide eyes met my face. That look in his bright blue eyes made me bold, and I knew I had to go all in. I tapped my chest and his sky-blue eyes followed the motion. His chin dipped, his gaze instinctively darting to his pocket. He reached up and retrieved the card, flipping it over a few times before reading the back. I touched a finger to my lips advising silence. He hesitated, looking bemused. Time slowed contrary to the rapid beating of my heart. This had better work or it’d become a very uncomfortable flight. Then he cautiously took three steps past me and I closed the door. “Hi there,” I whispered. He looked puzzled, likely wondering why he found himself in a cramped space with a complete stranger. A stranger who was a man, no less. Our bodies pressed together. His muscle mass greatly exceeded my own toned body, a good 30 to 35 pounds of pure muscle above my own 165 pounds. I leaned forward to embrace the close proximity. I could feel his heat. He leaned back. “What happened? Who are you?” he said in an unsteady, hushed voice. The blank look on his face spoke volumes -- he barely understood the situation. “Hi,” I said again. “I n-noticed you earlier and you have a great b-body and I want to help.” My original plan didn’t include stumbling over words but, pressed up against this bigger man, I felt less sure. A moment passed. “You did this?” he asked, eyes darting downward. I nodded and smiled, my plan seeming less surefire with every passing second. “How …?” his words trailed off. “Like this,” I said, taking his warm hand in mine. He looked down, unsure of how to react, then his dick started growing. He took a sharp breath and this time, he felt it happen. Blue eyes darted to my face, then down to his jeans. His hand pulled from mine after only a moment and his growth stopped when he broke contact. A hard bicep maneuvered between us, pressing against my pecs in the confined space. I felt his fingers unintentionally brush past my crotch as he felt his own. The feeling of new weight echoed in my mind. His dick had to be well above average by now. I eyed an arm and started to lift my hand. I wanted to touch the bunching triceps between us. But before my hand got too far, he unbuttoned and tugged down his jeans; I stopped in surprise. Most men were never this bold! Boxer briefs came into view and I unconsciously licked my lips at the strained fabric. He pulled down the band and a long, thick, porn-star sized dick swung free. I must have misjudged his initial size because a good six inches of soft, thick cock pushed up against me. Wow, it looked beautiful, I thought. It was a pleasant sight. I felt myself lean forward, putting pressure on his cock between our thighs. Seeing his dick confirmed what he felt happen -- his dick had grown. He saw it just moments ago in the other bathroom and now it was definitely bigger. His cock started to harden, I felt his blood rushing in. Our eyes met again but this time, small lines pushed up around his eyes. A sly grin crossed his face. "Can you do it again?" he asked. I was filled with excitement and surprise. I felt a wash of his craving rush through me. He leaned into me more, grinding his hardening member against me. It felt amazing on my thigh. I could feel him feeling it too, and it felt amazing! I nodded, sheepish, not knowing what to say. He pushed against me and his neck lowered enough to let his lips brush my neck. His arms wrapped around my body, biceps flexing against my arms. He breathed warm air against my skin and whispered, "do it again!" I trembled. My thoughts returned to the big biceps I’d watched flex back in the terminal. His cock fully hardened against our legs, reaching what felt to be ten full, thick inches of meat. It felt powerful against my jeans. My fingers crept slowly until they wrapped around the thick shaft. I felt him shudder in pleasure, a shudder that echoed through me. His arms tightened around me, biceps flexed against my smaller frame. He tensed in expectation. “Ok,” I said, nervously. But those beautiful arms filled my thoughts and before I realized, I started to fill them with size instead. His triceps too. The pressure of his arms against me felt intoxicating as they grew. My own arms shrank in tandem with his growth. It took him a moment to notice the increased strain against his shirt but his head shot up instantly when he did. “You can do that too??” he asked in surprise and I nodded back. Lust filled his sharp blue eyes. They bored into mine with hunger, and maybe something else. I leaned away but his still growing arms kept me steady. “Oh my gods, do it! Make me bigger!” he said, blue eyes ablaze. He was fully embracing the changes. I moaned when I felt his pecs swell bigger. They took up more and more space, filling with more firm, solid muscle. His square, thick pecs pushed hard against me in the cramped lavatory. I felt their new weight increasing moment-by-moment. He didn’t seem to notice my own round pecs dwindle in size. The buttons on his palm tree shirt strained against his growth. “Yes,” he said softly, enraptured, lolling back his head. I looked down and pushed my free hand between us. I groped his stomach, feeling a small layer of fat and started shifting it away onto my perfectly toned body. My sculpted six-pack disappeared as his own solidified. The tips of my fingers pressed through his shirt, I could feel each mound of muscle. One, two, three rows of recently revealed abs. And then the ridges between each mound deepened. His abs suddenly contracting with increased size and strength, bending him forward into me. “Fuck!” he whispered, his hot breath invading my ear. “Keep going!” And I did. My fingertips pushed through a gap between shirt buttons and brushed against the bottom of an expanding pec. I felt the overhang increase above my finger, the heavy weight of more and more muscle increasing every moment. I greeted a nipple with my fingers and I gave it a light pinch. He let out a soft moan in response. I felt the shock run through him and echo through me. But he needed more. I sucked more of his fat onto my own frame and felt a final row of abs reveal themselves below his burgeoning pecs. My finger snuck between them and his pec. I loved the new weight sandwiching my finger between his pec and abs. They felt so heavy, so big! His shirt strained ridiculously tight, creating larger gaps between buttons. I could now peek at rows of brick-like, chiseled abs that were now exposed. By now, my own cock was painfully hard. It screamed at me to be let free. In a frenzy, I let go and his growth stopped. He opened his eyes to watch me unbutton my own fly. I tried pulling down my pants. But my own strong legs and the close quarters made it impossible. He tried to help but between his bulk, my bulk, and his ten-inch dick pressing hard against my thigh, we couldn’t do it. So I grabbed his hand and felt my quads slowly shrink. He made an “umph” sound when his already large legs started expanding inside his jeans. I tried to push the sensations he felt from my mind, a mixture of pain and pleasure. And then his already perfect, round ass started protruding more too. It pushed hard against the sturdy plastic sink behind him and still, the twin globes of his muscled ass continued to grow. They fought for space in the enclosed cabin, but the cabin resisted, pushing painfully against the granite-like mounds. He shoved his cock forward, its hardness grinding against me, and stretched his back towards the mirror to give his ass more room to grow. A small yelp escaped my lips when my feet banged against the opposite wall. His thick, beautiful, growing arms held me tight and he had to lift me -- effortlessly -- to provide himself with more room. “Hold on,” I whispered, again letting go of his hand, stopping his growth. I pushed my jeans and they slid down easily. This surprised my partner, it seemed to be the first time he noticed that I shrank whenever and wherever he grew. His eyes gave me a questioning look but I reassured him. “It’s OK, let’s focus on you,” I said and pulled down my briefs. Out came my cock. There looked to be about eight inches left. He gawked and then smirked, likely remembering where that cock would end up. I thought longingly about how big it was before, but I knew I’d grow it again later. My cock pushed against his in the enclosed space. It felt amazing, electric! His 18 (or maybe 19) inch arms flexed around me. His shirt strained impossibly tight against him but continued to hold. He lifted me more and I started bulking back muscles to help with the job. Friction excited our members, they moved opposite to each other. He lifted my whole body in the cramped space, rubbing our cocks together. I rose by his powerful arms, then he lowered me, rubbing in the other direction. I felt it from us both, from my own dick and the echo of his sensation flooding into me. It felt so good, our magnificent, warm cocks sliding slickly in tandem. I pressed my hands against the ceiling for support and he repeated the up-and-down motion over and over and over. I could feel my balls starting to rise. They were so big and filled me with hormones, intensifying the experience. “I’m close! Not yet,” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut. I spoke mostly to myself, he didn’t make any sign of hearing me. I felt the pressure building! I knew I couldn’t hold it for long, and I wasn’t ready for it to end. Our dicks slid past in constant contact. Feeling in double was more amazing than my mind could handle! I knew what would postpone the inevitable, so my balls started to shrink as his, still confined by boxer briefs, started to grow. My up-and-down motion increased in ferocity as his growing balls inflamed his lust. Both balls pushed down the band of his underwear, growing too big to fit between the elastic and his massive thighs. He started thrusting his hips in time with his lifts. The skin-to-skin contact of our dicks allowed me to continue the growth, so I pushed more size into his globular ass and his thrusting doubled in intensity. I heard fabric tear, and I watched in the mirror as rips began to form along seams in his shirt. The valleys of his back stretched his shirt while hard mountains of muscle jutted outward nearby. His rock hard, ten-inch dick ground into my much smaller thigh. Our dicks moved in concert, pressed down between us and close together. A soft thwacking came from between his legs as his big balls dropped lower and thumped against hard, muscular thighs. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! “Fuck!” was all he could say. “Shh!” I cautioned him. I poured my muscle into him like gushing water freed from a restricting dam! Pound after pound transferred from me to him. My body weight dropped in his arms and that seemed to only increase his frantic grinding. His increasing size fought for more and more of the limited space. I took up less and less, my toned, swimmers body becoming that of a skinny teenager. He started to groan, but I released a hand and shoved it into his mouth! Shirt threads strained. Jeans stretched to the max. Sleeves began to explode. The top buttons of his shirt popped and his deep pec cleavage became exposed. I gazed down at those perfect, round pecs bouncing in time with his thrusts. Then his dick again crept down his thigh. It thickened more, now pressing painfully into my weakened leg. It felt like a hard, hot iron rod forced against me! But still it grew, rock-solid, inching slowly closer to his knee. My up-and-down movements were accelerating. My hair brushed the top of the cabin. His powerful back worked harder so more of his growing dick rubbed against less of mine. I felt my cock shrinking to seven, then six, then five inches. His manhood must have doubled since we met, both in thickness and in length. Then finally he bit down hard on my fingers! The thwacking increased in frequency. I felt his big balls rising! He shuddered in pleasure as he climaxed. Wave after wave of wet cum shot from his hose of a cock and soaked my jeans. I felt orgasm wash over him and echo through me! My fingers ached, but our combined pleasure drowned out the pain. His beautiful, sparkling blue eyes looked into mine, his cock still unloading load after load onto my leg. His eyes glazed over as he put me down, panting. His huge chest heaved up and down with each breath. He looked incredible! His shirt had ripped in multiple places and so had his jeans. Moving very slowly, very carefully, and deliberately, I knelt down. He took up so much space that moving was no easy task. However, my much smaller body made it easier to navigate in the tight space. I placed my mouth next to his cock. It looked glorious and huge. I used one hand to place the softening head into my mouth. The other I used to grab my own still hard five inches of cock and jerked. I licked him clean and let his dick grow a bit more. The head took up slightly more space in my mouth. I engulfed as much of him as could fit and still let it grow. My five inches became four, and I came. The four or five shots from me paled in comparison. My jeans were soaked. Doing his best to move, he reached behind and grabbed a paper towel. I took it and cleaned the floor beneath me. Then I leaned back against the wall, kneeling there for some time just gazing into his eyes. Those magical, blue eyes atop a bodybuilder I had created. He tried and failed to stuff his massive soft appendage back into too tight jeans. He couldn’t button them so he simply shrugged and left his pants undone. His boxers covered just enough to get by. He left the bathroom first. The door swung outward and I stood. He stepped forward but stopped. His gorgeous, globular ass pushed against my spent crotch when he bent down to pick up a small white card. I hadn’t noticed he’d dropped it. He stood up and headed back towards his seat. I closed the door and fell back against the toilet. Wow. The whole encounter probably lasted ten minutes. I’d given him much more than expected, but the look in his beautiful blue eyes made it all worthwhile. I washed my hands and did my best to clean off my jeans. I swam in my clothes. Before long, I followed him out into the aisle, glancing around nervously, worried that somebody might smell his cum. I received a few glances but most were focused on him. We took our seats. Our aisle companion seemed confused to find significantly less armrest space than before. 15B turned and grinned at me. “I’m John,” he said smiling. “We’ve got to do this again sometime -- soon,” he said and pushed his muscular leg against my now shrunken one. I placed my hand on his thigh, quickly finding his soft megacock. “I’ve got your card. I’ll call you,” he said in a whisper, winking. The intercom interrupted my response. “Please prepare for landing.” He turned away but let my hand linger. We didn’t exchange another word for the remainder of the flight.
  3. The Hazing

    Great story! I'm glad to see such a well written piece added to the muscle theft collection.
  4. Medallion Story

    Sounds like my plot. kr33d3r shared the link. Share some love and reply if you like it! It's been a while since I've written a story and I like the positive (or negative) feedback.
  5. birthday muscle

    Are you thinking of "Turning 15"? It's here: http://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12161-p1.html
  6. Hey all, It's a rainy day here and instead of working, I decided to look through some of my old stories. I mostly lurk and crop up once in a blue moon to write (all in the old forum). This will be my first story here, re-posts by others excluded. I originally posted "My Pendant" back in April of 2014. It had two parts but I only ever posted one. Both are short so, I'm re-posting the original post and including the never-before-posted second part. I hope you enjoy! Part 1 I felt the pendant hanging on its thin fabric around my neck. Its heavy weight always comforted me, reminding me that it was something special. Nobody could say how it worked but those who’d discovered its secrets often tried feverishly, and unsuccessfully, to obtain it. I treasured the pendant and I kept with me always. I sat alone in a comfortable chair, looking out the wide window of my spacious room. The sun had begun to set casting a yellow haze across the world. This had become the best part of my day, the moments before my evening began. My mind wandered. Thoughts of dozens upon dozens of men flashed through my head, all beautiful men I’d slept with since finding the pendant. My cock responded instinctively, hardening in my loose sweats. Some of the men had come to me, some of them I had found and surprised. Either way, my sex life went from dwindling with age to expanding rapidly in the past few months. The aquamarine hue of my pendant twinkled in the light of the setting sun, making it shine brightly against the pale skin of my bare chest. I looked down on it as I reclined, breathing a heavy sigh. The gift I’d received did little for my own mediocre physique. At thirty four years of age, I’d given up trying to look my best. I left that for those in their twenties, helping out where I could. My arms were too small and my legs too thin. But that didn’t stop men from throwing themselves at me. The pendant filled my mind with a dull thumping, telling me that it wanted release. It wanted release for me. It granted me a power that, as far as I knew, could only be mastered by me. We had a connection, the pendant and me. Maybe it had to do with how it came to be in my possession; maybe others did not have the necessary concentration. Whatever the reason, the pendant made me special, and I loved it. As the sun set behind the distant hills, my wondering thoughts subsided. The cold air was beginning to prickle my skin. I got up and busied myself with preparations, throwing on a shirt and changing into tapered blue jeans. "Tonight will be fun," I told myself, examining the tall, slender figure in the mirror. I ran my fingers across the curly crimson hair atop my head, pushing it into place. I smoothed the ruffles from my shirt and pulled down so it fell tight against my small shoulders. Icy blue eyes glanced across my reflection approvingly. "Yes," I mused, "tonight will be fun, indeed." It didn’t take long to span the several blocks to the nearest gay bar. Sting, it was called. I’d moved close not too long ago. The pendant compelled me to move, though quite indirectly. I felt it thumping in my mind as it did almost constantly now. It needed to be near this mecca of men. I was all too happy to oblige, given my recently hyperactive sex drive. Both the college and the gym were within walking distance, making Sting the club of choice for hot twenty-something year old men and thus a favorite spot of my own. Most people stopped their conversations and gazed at me longingly as I entered. Firm, muscled bodies filled the already bustling crowd. Cocks hardened all around the room merely from my presence. I nodded here and there, acknowledging some of my better work but engaging nobody past friendly cordiality. Tonight would be special. The pendant agreed. I seated myself in a far off corner of the bar, watching people slowly return to their conversations. Some fretted, debating internally whether to approach my poorly upholstered vinyl booth. None did. They knew by my posture that I would have none of their attentions tonight. I instead gazed about the room, seeking out my next new find. As the evening grew long, more people crammed themselves into the confined spaces around the bar. Those who knew me fought for even one of my passing glances, hopeful of receiving gifts without upfront cost. But wistful expressions fell on most as my gaze passed by. Then, finally, a bit past my fifth free drink, I spotted him. All of the largely muscled men in the room took no notice of him. He squeezed his wet glass of intoxicating liquid tightly with both hands, moving his pretty brown eyes here and there to survey the beautiful men, happily oblivious of my lustful glance. His dark brown hair was patted forward with too much texture, and his low blue V-neck shirt exposed the beginnings of firm but far from significant pecs. Though short, his frame was thick. He certainly weighed more than I did but much less than most of the men in attendance. At any other club, he would have had a much better luck finding a guy. But he chose to visit Sting; a poor choice for anybody but the most beautiful of muscular men. I got up, leaving my most recent drink untouched. The loud noise of dozens of conversations found a lull as I made my way easily through the heavy crowd. The man in blue chatted noisily with his friends, apparently unfazed by the abrupt change from loud cacophony to mellow hum. Eyes danced about me frantically, focusing not on me but calculating my trajectory and possible destinations. At last I came to a halt behind a back that stretched wider than my own narrow frame. The thumping in my mind hastened and beat wildly, now. The pendant agreed with my choice. I tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello there." He turned at first with a smile but quickly began to glower. A glance up and down my body confirmed that I was, indeed, not what he planned for his evening out. "Uhm, hi," he said, turning hastily back towards his friends, who seemed to share his focused opinion. I stood unmoved and unconcerned. Those accompanying him shared furtive glances, trying not to smirk at my continued presence. The man of my evening’s desire continued to frown outside of my gaze, staring at nobody in particular, hoping that I’d simply go away. It didn’t take long, though, before an intrepid man of astonishing beauty leaned forward and whispered in his ear. At first, he seemed surprised to have such a specimen of muscle, a truly superior model among the fitness inclined, speaking to him so directly. "Do what?" said the man in blue, looking very confused. "He suggests that you come with me," I said blatantly, and the many heads focused on our conversation nodded in agreement. The pendant didn’t provide me with any abilities to affect the thoughts or actions of others. It only granted the ability to give them beauty, size, and strength. If he rejected my advances, it would be his loss. His friends look bemused as several other specimens of male perfection swooped in to block their negative accord. I’d developed quite a reputation and the attractive multitudes were ready and willing to attain another among their ranks. "Go with him," said some. "You won’t regret it," said others. "It’ll be amazing," said still more. The man in blue turned to look at me once more, puzzlement overwhelming his countenance. "Would you like to come with me? I don’t live far," I said, "just around the corner." "Don’t go," said one of his friends, but became quickly overruled as scores of attractive men pushed him (and me) towards the exit. Before he could resolve his surprise at having been thrust out onto the dark streets, he arrived in tow at my front door. "Nice place," he said, unsure of how he’d gotten himself into the apartment of a man about six years his senior and absolutely not his type. His utter bafflement reaffirmed that my choice was correct. "Sit down," I said. He let himself be led to my couch where he sat heartily on the plastic covered cushions. His eyes darted about, taking in his surroundings; nervous fingers fidgeted and crossed in his lap. "I’m Mitch," he said finally, apparently deciding that it would be best if I knew his name. "Hi Mitch," I said warmly, smiling down as him from my standing position. "Don’t be nervous, you’re safe. I bring a lot of guys back here and they all enjoy themselves. You met some of them on our way out of Sting." I’d said those exact lines before. This wasn’t the first, and it would not be the last time a strange man found himself unsure and anxious in my living room. "Do you want something to drink?" I said in a soft voice, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. "Uhm, no," he said, adding a quick "thank you" as an afterthought. "Well, then. Let’s get started," I said, taking off my shirt. He looked up at me with one eye arched, apparently re-thinking his situation. But before much more could be decided, I pulled off his loose fitting shoes and unbuttoned his tight fitting pants. "Tell me your desires," I said, pulling his jeans around decent sized thighs. Soft brown hairs ruffled lazily after being disturbed by the trailing waistband. My hands cupped his round calves as they slid past, pulling both legs free. "Tell you what?" he said, slightly taken aback by the unusual question. "Tell me your desires. I can help make them come true," I said, pulling the blue V-neck over his torso. His arms complied dutifully, fourteen-inch biceps rising to allow the shirt to be pulled past. I looked down at his tanned skin, taking in his small but solid pecs and visible six-pack. His size complemented his thick frame, looking nicely muscled with low body fat. "What do you want to know?" he said, continuing our conversation from moments before. "Everything," I said, leaning in to run my fingers along the soft skin from pecs to navel. "Uhm," he said, closing his eyes, "I like muscle. Big guys with big dicks." "And what else," I said, hooking two fingers under the elastic of his designer brand underwear. "Big arms," he said. "I like really big arms." I pulled, bringing his underwear up and over a cock that had just began to wake. It looked to be decent sized average, and cut. "Big arms? How big?" I said softly, trying to encourage his imagination. Sexy thoughts would help enlarge his slumbering member. "Really big," he said, getting into the mood. "Nineteen inches." "Only nineteen?" I said to him, bringing my mouth close to his hardening cock. The hot breath of my voice quickened his excitement, its head inching closer to his stomach with each heartbeat. "Ok, twenty!" he replied. I chuckled to myself at his modesty, confident in the knowledge that soon he’d be shouting an ever-expanding plethora of large and larger numbers. "And I like big dicks," he said, really getting into the discussion. "Eight inches," he spouted. His cock was almost fully hard. The pendant around my neck thumped loudly in my head, expectantly. I reached out my tongue and flicked it against the head of his dick. The soft brown hairs on his flat stomach shifted, a shiver running through him. "Oh, gods!" he bellowed. I had that effect on men. I took his cock into my mouth and began pumping gingerly in an up and down motion, flying my tongue along the back of his sensitive cock head. I watched him, taking a mental picture of his looks, trying my best to remember the fine details of the attractive yet nervous twenty-something year old man that I had brought into my apartment. Then I began. I pushed the thumping from my mind and focused it through his eager cock. He started to moan, feeling the pleasure of my hot mouth, not understanding or caring about the sudden noise in his head. His eyes remained closed, some distant muscle man flexing proudly in his thoughts as Mitch’s arms started to inflate. The satisfaction overwhelmed us both. He breathed heavily, enjoying the sensation of his dick being sucked. I reveled in the pleasure of the beat moving through my soul and into Mitch. Focusing, I willed his arms to expand. They pushed outward against the cool air of my living room, growing to seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and then twenty inches. Then I focused on his cock, pushing against the thumping in his mind, causing his decent six inches to grow. I felt it thicken and lengthen between my lips. I ran my tongue around its girth, savoring the feeling of it taking up more and more space in my anxious mouth. The separation between my mouth and his groin increased moment by moment, his length becoming more difficult to fully please. Finally, the thumping in his mind pushed back against my push. I knew that meant his penis now stood a throbbing eight inches long. My practiced mind could combat his unconscious will and force more growth upon him if I pleased. But I knew better. Once he realized the changes in his form, no strength of wills would be required. I removed his cock from my mouth, examining my work. His nicely formed member seemed more perfectly proportioned than it had before. An unconscious change of my own, to be sure. His eyes opened questioningly, likely wondering at (only instinctively) the absence of the mysterious thumping in his mind. He focused first on my beaming face, which looked up at his confusion. "Why’d you stop?" he said, and then he noticed the more perfect column of meat hovering higher up his torso than before. "Huh?" he said shocked. Careful fingers reached out to touch its new length, to feel its girth as if unsure it was real. "What happened?" he ruminated to nobody in particular. "It’s your desires," I said simply. "You got what you wanted," I indicated, nodding to his arms. His eyes widened, his fingers quickly abandoning his throbbing cock to explore the newly expanded territory of his beefy biceps. "How ...," he said, trailing off. He brought his arm into a hard flex, bringing twenty inches of solid muscle into full relief. "Your desires," I said again. "Tell me your desires." And he did. No sooner than I encouraged him did new desires begin flooding from his mouth. "I want to be hot!" he said, pretty brown eyes filled with lust. "To be buff and muscular like all the guys I’ve ever wanted! I want a huge chest, and thick inch calves, and wide shoulders!" I again engulfed his eight inch cock, taking as much into my mouth as I could. "And low body fat! Super low, like five percent," he said as an after thought. "I want to be toned and buff and beautiful, and I want every guy to want me!" And I started to make it happen. The thumping in his mind again as soon as my lips made contact with his pulsing dick. I pushed back through my soul, pushing hard against the thumping in his head, then into his calves and chest and shoulders, causing them to balloon bigger and wider, making them harder and rounder. His thighs thickened, forcing more of my kneeling weight onto his hardening body. Thick forearms pushed reflexively into the couch as I worked my tongue around his cock. Globes of glutes developed under him, shifting his body towards my face. And I pulled on his mind. Veins appeared as I dragging the fat from his body and into who knows where. The thickness of his biceps increased, padding removed to reveal nothing but masculine hardness. His pecs rounded and came into glorious relief as his ridiculously low body fat desire came to be. Faint abdominal muscles became uncovered to reveal eight perfect and cavernous ridges. "This is so hot!" he shouted, focusing on body becoming perfection. I pushed again, further filling and expanding his muscles to meet his desires. He flexed his arms and felt his shoulders. Round delts pushed against his expectant hands. His widening back pushed and stretched the plastic covering of the couch, his width increasing greatly. Pecs danced and flexed under his lustful gaze as I filling them with more size. The cleft between the two hard slabs of muscle deepened; his chest bulged outward causing taunt nipples to harden and to begin pointing downward. "Fuck!" he screamed, starting to buck his eight inches of cock into my mouth. I gagged as the nearly perfect cock head thrust against the back of my throat. But still I pushed against the thumping in his mind. My pendant glowed a bright green-blue, pulsing with each unified thump in our skulls. "Fuck!" he said again, examining the expanse that his body became. "Can you make me taller? Five foot ten!" he yelled out, still trying to push himself further down my throat. "And I want to be as hung as a porn star! Ten inches. No, twelve!" And I made it happen. Sweat poured from his brown, dripping in torrents onto the plastic covered couch. His feet expanded downward beneath my body, pushing away from the cushions that supported his increasing weight. My soul danced and sang, the thumping flowing through it. I felt the pulsing of my own cock still confined tightly in my briefs. I began to buck my hips in motion with Mitch’s own. He fucked my face with all his might, as if the force he used could somehow help him achieve his goals. His short stature stretched as his bones expanded to his wish of five foot ten. And still I pushed on the thumping in his mind. His cock shot farther into my mouth as if it unrolled from within. It expanded quickly, making it difficult to keep in my mouth. He shoved into me once more, forcing his enlarged head down my throat. I could feel it expanding in the only direction it could. I choked and sputtered but his new strength held me, his twenty-inch arms reaching around to push my head into an irrefutable embrace. But still I pushed against his mind, forcing his dick to snake bigger, more and more. My throat jaw felt strained as it grew until finally my push met a hard force, like a wall. His unconscious pushed against the strength of mine. Then, in a solid fluid motion, he removed his cock from my throat, causing it to make an audible *pop* as it exited my tight lips. He stood up, throwing me to the ground and grabbing his porn-star sized proportions. He jerked and jerked, convulsing his whole body. Sweat shot off in all directions. His jaw had squared. His features looked chiseled. His brown eyes shone with brightness. And I could only think one word about his penis: perfect. It was thick and round and proportioned like what could be found on a statue of the gods. He focused only on himself, worshipping his own body. Hard muscles flexed and danced as he strained to get himself off. Lengthened fingers flew across the full foot of his cock, as if he’d been born to have such great size. Then finally, with a roar like a thousand lions, he came! Cum spurted up and arched out of his perfect cock. It flew in every direction, up and over every surface, across the room, and above his head. He twitched and shuttered and came with all his might until finally, without another moment’s commotion, he stopped. I felt the warmth of my own cum trickle down my leg. I’d cum in all the excitement and hadn’t even noticed. That hadn’t happened in a long while. As he slumped down on the wet plastic covering my couch, I looked up at the magnificent male specimen I’d created. His requests hadn’t been as lofty as some, but his desires for beauty had come through in full force. He almost glowed with radiance as he opened his eyes. I held back a gasp as they looked down at me, taken aback by the beauty. "Wow," he said. "Yes," I replied. I cleaned him up and gave him clothes that I kept on hand. He gave me a full bodied hug. He easily lifted my superior height towards the ceiling before putting me down, regarding me with a wide, sheepish grin. "How can I ever thank you?" he asked, beaming. "Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way," I said. As I escorted him out the door, I took pause. He’d been one of the better ones. I knew he was mine forever, now. He’d always want what I could provide, like so many other men. And so, I spoke. "Mitch," I said, looking at him directly. He turned from his elated escape to regard me once more. "It’s only temporary. All this size." His face fell. It saddened me to see such beauty falter. "Do you hear that thumping? You need to push against it as best you can. It’ll be stronger than you and it will fade. Over time it will leak out of your subconscious. And when it does, you’ll lose a good amount of size. Not all, but more than you’d like. And when that happens, seek me out." He stared. "You’ll lose less each time we meet. And next time we do, you’ll know better how you can thank me then." A frown crossed his lips. I shut the door, leaving him dumbfounded on the front steps. Part 2 My eyes surveyed the dulcet hues of red and yellow spreading across the sky with the setting sun. The cool breeze blew through the open window, flowing mischievously across my nipples, making them hard. My mind wavered between its usual fantasies and the reality of my wildest dreams come true. The fantasy world of my own creation had become too much of a reality for me, now that so often the fantasy in my dreams seemed a better place. A dull sense of things crept back upon me. The ever present thumping in my mind drew me back from my wanderings, reminding me of things that had to be done. I reached up to finger the cool pendant that dangled so innocently over my chest. It seemed like a gift at first. Images of hot, muscular men flashed through my mind as they always did just before the sunset. Once, this had been the favorite part of my day; the promise of conquests to come and imaginations to explore. My gaze remained far off to the distant hills, following the winding paths that meandered away from this valley full of newly muscled men. I longed to go there, away from the valley and past the rising hills that served as parapets to ensnare me in a wondrous fantasy world come to life. I knew it could not be done. A knock at the door sealed my fate, yet again. He let himself in, following a routine we’d perfected over six years of practice. It had become a tantric dance, both our bodies involved in an automatic play of movement to where the night would inevitably lead. The door clicked closed behind him, wafts of masculine smell eddying about on the air currents in the breezy room. It continued much the same as before. The click of a bottle cap being removed for his drink. Currency rustled in a transfer from his wallet to my wicker basket. My favorite armchair creaked under his settling weight. The thumping in my mind continued rhythmically in preparation for my guest. I turned to regard the man sitting in the chair normally reserved for me, the small muscles of my back and shoulders fully visible to the landscape beyond. My eyes scanned his five foot ten frame. Once again, his beauty astonished me. A tight blue shirt rose slightly above his navel due to the tug of his outstretched and reclining arms. I marveled at the tight muscles of his lower abdomen and the stark Adonis belt. The thinning shirt outlined solid pecs and clung to nineteen-inch arms. White shorts hung limply, almost covering his thighs but revealing strong calves and long, sandaled feet. I knew he heard the dull thumping in his mind too. Mitch took my warning from so long ago quite seriously. He experienced the fading away of the masterful thumping. He watched as his body slowly changed back to what it had been. Then, before a month’s time had passed he knocked on my door as had all the men I’d changed. The pendant drew him to me more often than most. He never let the thumping fully abate before appearing, currency in hand. He needed the muscle. He desired the beauty. His mind craved the ever present thumping. There was something special about him. Something different. "Hey there," he said smiling at me from across the room. I glowered at him and his small talk. "You’re back early. It hasn’t been a month." "Yeah, well. I’ve got to keep up my look!" He flexed a beautifully proportioned arm. I’d perfected and sculpted that arm many times over. "You know there’s only so far I’m willing to go," I said to him, echoing myself of a few weeks ago. I ignored the rampant thumping in my mind. "Aww, come on! You know I’m worth it," he replied, grabbing his crotch. My fierce blue stare penetrated him, boring through his casual façade to gaze on the deeper desires within. He’d tried to push the limits of masculinity so many times. I’d given him fantasies of every sort over the years, accentuating first this muscle, then his beauty. He’d been tall and sculpted; then he’d been short and wide. All manners of musculature and size had been in his desires, and we’d tried them all together. I’d sculpted him in so many different ways that his original form mostly escaped my memory. But through it all, he kept that astonishing beauty that impressed even me. "Don’t you get tired of keeping this up?" "What are you talking about? You love the attention! And the money." He added that last part with heavy disdain. "Alright," I relented, "let’s get this over with." He stood quickly and shucked his sandals and shirt. My breath reflexively stopped every time I gazed at his magnificent torso. His perfectly round pecs transfixed my gaze. He approached and pulled my head into his chest, forcing me to lean against his weight. The thumping in my mind increased. I extended my tongue to lick the cleavage before my mouth. It tasted magnificent as it always did. His masculine musk filled and surrounded my senses. He knew that in spite of myself, I loved our interplay and so he played me like the masterful puppeteer he’d become to get what he desired most: more size. "That’s right. You know what I want," he said. "Make me huge." I complied to his desire. My tongue ran across the ridges of his eight cobblestoned abs, gingerly appreciating every knot and hard crevice. With practiced fingers, I unbuttoned his shorts to slide them down solid thighs. My cock throbbed in my own pants, my thoughts a mix of desire and fatigue. He released me from his embrace long enough to lower his underwear, revealing an ample cock -- a largely proportioned and porn star thick, ten-inch cock. He’d always asked for a big cock and I always provided. Now I benefited from my handy work, opening wide to take the semi-hard member into my mouth. I sucked liberally on the perfectly shaped head, as it pumped harder with each beat of his heart. And focusing on my expected task, I felt the thumping in his mind. It seemed loud compared to all then men I’d conditioned. It took practice for them to push hard enough against the thumping in their minds to keep it from seeping fully away. And Mitch among them all learned the best. In spite of my help, it’s how he really kept so much of his size over the last six years. Most of my creations partnered with one another and let themselves shrink together, happily and blissfully loved. But not Mitch. He chose the opposite windy path. His life, like mine, became about size and perfection. His long cock felt warm in my mouth and I savored it with my tongue. Moaning erupted from above. I looked up at Mitch’s refined proportions and chiseled features, savoring memories of him and me growing close over the years, even if only for this purpose. The thumping in my mind matched the thumping in his, a quickening pulse that filled both our thoughts. Then I pushed the thumping through my soul and into his eager body. And then it started again. He yelled out passionate desires in his lust. "I want to be bigger than ever before! Massive and huge. Tall. Towering." His hunger had become frightening. He wanted to wield power over other men. But I knew that no amount of size could provide him with the power I had. He’d still always need me. His arms raised in glorious relief, flexing and growing as I pushed new size into their already impressive proportions. They grew to twenty inches quickly, then to twenty one. And his shoulders swelled in size to match. His back spread wider, straining his flimsy blue t-shirt. It’d always been a favorite of his, but he’d forgotten to remove it so it would not be long for the world. "Mmmph," he moaned, his eyes closed, as his pecs grew heavier. I made them round and thick, perfecting them as one of my many gifts to him. They heaved higher and pushed against the shirt as he flexed. The sound of tearing fabric interrupted his heavy breathing. "Fuck yeah!" he cried. My pendant glowed its standard blue-green hue and thumped loudly in our heads, and I pushed against it with my usual vigor. His cock felt hot in my mouth. I loved having it there and slurped and bobbed contently. The tear at his neckline continued to spread with his widening back. I watched it travel south towards his nipples; my available hand reflexively grabbing to free my own confined meat. A stark ripping sound accompanied the slow progress down his torso, and it made us both squirm with pleasure. When it revealed the entirety of his cleavage, I noticed something that made me startle. Dangling between his heaving muscular pecs sat a blood-red pendant. I stopped pushing, leaving the thumping alone. His cock throbbed anxiously in my mouth while I surveyed his sweaty torso. His eight pack was perfect. Thick traps mounted visibly around his neck, even from this angle. He’d gone from fitness model to junior bodybuilder in no time at all. He wondered at the sudden delay, opening his eyes to peer down at his hard cock pulsing stagnant in my mouth. A quick scan of his expanded frame told him what caused my start, and he leered. "Do you like it?" he said. "I got it near the old forest path." He didn’t allow a response. His hand had snaked stealthily from its flexed position to a forceful hold behind my head. He held me firmly in place. I tried to vocalize around his cock, but it was simply too large to allow any oration to pass. The thumping in my mind began to grew, shifting to an alarming frenzy! My own blue-green pendant shone with an unexplainable urgency, filling me with panic and dread! I wriggled and writhed to free myself from his grip, but he held fast. His free hand closed around the amber pendant hanging around his neck and he spoke. "Do you remember all those times you stopped before giving me what I really desired? Before giving me what I truly needed? All those denials? Well this is going to change all that." He ruffled my hair with his free hand and continued. "Rumor has it that you got your pendant somewhere deep in the forest. That’s where this one comes from too. When I wear it I can hear my own dull thumping below the remnants of yours. But I can’t get it to work no matter how hard I push against it with my mind." The wide grin on his face reached a renewed apex and I felt my panic rebuild. "I discovered that it doesn’t respond to me because this one doesn’t work with a push." He looked me in the eyes and said simply, "it works with a pull." And with no more delay or explanation, I felt a tug from somewhere deep in my mind. Mitch closed his eyes in deep concentration as the rapid thumping in my mind began to collapse in upon itself. His biceps started to expand once again, dashing any hopes of estrangement from my involuntary bondage. They flexed voluntarily in a show of power, becoming disproportionately large. Thick snake-like veins snaked across the surface of his biceps with every inch of growth. A belt the size of my waist couldn’t encompass one of those monsters. Even with this new unleashing of size, his hand against my head remained constrained as if to show a mastery of strength. The tearing down his shirt resumed much faster this time with the quick expansion of his lats. He had never been so thick before, all because I enforced limits. They thickened and rippled, pushing him wider and wider, looking engorged with size, even from my vantage point. He pulled the thumping from my mind as if it were a thing to be exchanged for a fair wage from a reluctant seller. The beauty and proportion I worked so hard to create evaporated quickly under his un-tuned understanding of his growth. Abrupt changes occurred sporadically across his form. I felt his forearm bulge against my head. His left thigh crowded my face. It hardened and took up more space, pushing me to the side. Then sometime after so did his right. I watched both feet creep longer across the floor towards my knees. The Adonis belt near my nose evaporated as a muscle gut formed. It pushed into my space over his cock and into my forehead. It may not have been coordinated, but the changes to his form were awesome. I’d never before let him lose his beautiful proportion. I realized then that it was his beauty that made me putty in his hands. And now it was disappearing. He bulked and flexed and expanded outward without any regard for my desires. My desires. His pecs jutted so far forward would no longer see his neck. A bright red glow cast about the dark room from Mitch’s pendant. He brought one arm into a flex for his own approval. Even as the bicep grew impossibly larger before his eyes, my mind raced. I tried to push against his pull in a battle for the thumping but it only hastened the growth of his ballooning arm. He peeked down and smiled at my plight, realizing what I’d done. No trick of mine could prevent the pull from penetrating the depths of my mind. In a moment, my worries compounded. Mitch had begun to rise. His cock and hand dragged me up. I grabbed his ass with both hands to support myself. Its hardness protested as I attempted to dig my fingers into his flesh. They expanded beneath my fingers as if responding to my touch. I was forced to rise off the ground without any possible recourse. I dared not bite down on his hefty cock in fear that he would make it grow. If it got too big it would easily break my jaw. So I did the only thing my experience taught me how to do: I sucked on his hard cock. He moaned immediately and pulled harder to re-double his own growth. By now I’d risen to a difficult squat, a good six inches off the floor to accommodate his increasing height. His muscles glistened in the red glow. His stature resembled the professional bodybuilders I’d seen in magazines and contests, and still he grew. I sucked hard and with all my skill. He had to cum soon. Maybe that would bring him back to reality and stop his lust for more growth. His breathing increased steadily with his size. He adjusted his stance to compensate for his growing thighs and ballooning calves. I regretted their disproportionate size, eyeing calves that looked far too big but continued unabated on my quest to get him off. His pecs stuck out much too far for their width. His arms looked comically large below his shoulders. His fingers and feet grew longer. I could feel his ass becoming more and more globe-like with every passing moment. The heat from his body overshadowed the brisk breeze. Only he and I existed. His hard hold on my head forced me to work his cock in spite of all else. I forgot about my apartment, about the money left in my wicker basket, about the numbing silence that rumbled ominously in my mind. I sucked, and I sucked. My tongue danced expertly around every ridge of his dick that I’d spent six years changing and re-memorizing. Even when I felt the head of his cock working itself further into my mouth, I continued to work the shaft as best as I could. Then without warning, my head became free and with a flash of blue-green light I fell backwards onto the floor. His once beautiful proportions were gone, replaced with blatant favoritism to what I knew to be his favorite muscle groups. I gawked up at him, larger than any professional bodybuilder I’d ever seen. A bright blood-red glow still emanated from the amber pendant hanging tediously between his pecs. Both pecs were larger than I’d thought possible, pulling his shoulders forward. Large arms out shadowed thick and veiny forearms. Bulbous calves and long feet betrayed the hard, thick thighs they were meant to complement. And his height and thickness did not match. An eleven inch cock stood proudly before the most hardened muscle gut I’d ever known. He looked down at himself disapprovingly. "This is harder than I thought. You made it look easy," he jested. I scampered away in a feeble attempt to put distance between us, lest he decide to place me again on his cock to fix his own proportion. Chuckling at me he said, "don’t worry, I don’t need you anymore." And he made his cock longer. It inched itself two or three inches towards his cavernous cleavage. I watched dumbstruck. It was only then that I realized the quiet in my head. My blue-green pendant no longer glowed; it had a reddish tinge that I’d never seen before. There was no thumping in my mind as there had always been. He had stolen it all. "Wow, it’s really loud in here," he said offhandedly. "I can push," and his cock rose another inch. "And I can pull," and his muscle gut receded significantly, leaving an amazingly sculpted cobblestoned torso in its place. "Fuck! I can do whatever I want!" His head inched closer to the ceiling, making him the tallest he’d ever been. "This is awesome," Mitch said, speaking more to himself than to me. "Watch this!" he said, and without further ado maneuvered himself into a most muscular! Veins erupted everywhere. Impossibly huge, iron-hard muscle displayed themselves in full relief. His whole body screamed its power to the world! He closed his eyes. "Gods!" His balls swelled visibly. "Fuck," and then so did his cock, "yeah!" Cum erupted from his fifteen inch cock and pelted the cleavage between his mammoth pecs! Shot after shot exploded. I could see the concentration on his face as he pushed or pulled (I did not know which) the thumping in his mind. His most muscular held while he made cum in long, hard, powerful spurts. Each shot fell onto his heaving pecs and dribbled down his disproportionately lean and sculpted abdomen. He looked frightening and amazing. Cum gushed and hit with an audible splatter. Then, after ten or twelve sticky loads, he abated and opened his eyes. "This power is amazing!" he said, and again his cock swelled larger again and more cum shot from his towering member. Time past. I watched him cum on himself over and over, stop, and then start all over again. I don’t know if he did it for pleasure, for power, or for the fun of making me watch. I’d never been able to do anything like that to him before. Finally, he stopped. The amber pendant, resembling more a purple-blue-green hue, dripped with cum and burrowed between his pecs. His hard cock swayed in the cool air. He thundered to the door and stopped. "Thanks," he said, giving me a wink. He opened it and, fully naked and drenched in sticky fluid, left me forever. I simply watched him go. A cool breeze wafted across my bare skin in an attempt to remind me of the world outside. It taunted me, reminding me of all I had lost. The newly muscled men in the valley before the high hills and the winding paths beyond were all lost to me. My jaw was sore from its restricted movement of moments ago and it protested as I opened it to scream after him. But I realized I had nothing to say. Nothing could be said. Or done. A tear trickled down my cheek. I’d lost the best part of me. Thoughts of leaving this beautiful, amazing valley flew from my consciousness. Only the silence remained. I lay there for hours. I noticed nothing but the eerie lack of thumping. I cradled my pendant to give it calm. It felt dead. The next morning I awoke where I’d fallen. I hadn’t bothered to move. I felt the weight of the now purple-amber pendant against my unimpressive chest. Some time past lost in my own thoughts. Then a smile crossed my lips. I’d recalled the last things I had said to Mitch the first time we met. "It’s only temporary." I clutched my pendant close to myself and searched my mind. Somewhere in its depths, though very, very faint, I found something. I listened to myself. There it was -- only in its beginnings, but the sound of a soft, constant, and unmistakable thumping in my mind.
  7. Awesome work, SuperWaffle! It takes a lot of time and effort to make something this elaborate so thanks for putting this together!
  8. My Twin Moves On (Chapter 14 - Conclusion)

    Great story from start to finish! The epilog was a welcome and surprising ending!
  9. My Twin Moves On (Chapter 12)

    Another amazing installment! I can't wait to find out what happens next!
  10. New Theme, Shoutbox, & Upcoming Logo Contest

    I like the dark theme, it makes the text much easier to read IMHO. However, white on black does cause a bit of eye strain. Instead of white (#fff), how about a gray? Some interesting reading: http://www.writer2001.com/colwebcontrast.htm Also, the title box constantly floating on top is a little bit obtrusive. I've always liked having my full window for content. - Jman
  11. Browse The Old Website Online! Right Now!

    For anyone curious, I created a bunch of cached copies and this is the one I decided to publish. Some copies had too many stories removed and others were made too early. I only kept text content and a few images for viewing ease. Other content has been stripped. I added a few easter eggs as 6ft8beast noticed . Hope everyone enjoys! PS. I have the original zips so they'll always be available somewhere.
  12. Repost: The Box (Part 1 of 3) Dark Red

    Huh. I never thought one of my stories would get a repost! Thanks for doing that. Maybe I should post one of the others that I've been sitting on.
  13. Story Archive: Classics Request

    I don't know if you saw the thread in General on musclegrowth.org but I made an offline version before the site went down. It's available here: http://www.filefactory.com/file/37mdu0ftn603/archive-2014.zip
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