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    • CMiller

      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:      
    • Scriptboy

      The Storiversary section is OPEN!   04/01/17

      Check out the Storiversary section of the forum for a brand new muscle-growth story every single day!   https://muscle-growth.org/forum/106-stories/  

VRGoh

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About VRGoh

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    100+ Posts
  • Birthday August 29

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  • This profile is a...
    real profile.
  • Gender
    Male
  • Orientation
    Unsure
  • What are your stats?
    Last weighed at 135lbs. at 5'8" tall.
  • What are your dream stats?
    At least 50 pounds of lean muscle and ripped to shreds.

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  1. Very intriguing story, as well as a cheeky reference to "Brave New World." Great job!
  2. Amir walked along the beach that sunset, lost in his own thoughts. It was a beach like any other but for the special meaning it held to him and the love of his life, Tomás. It was the two-year anniversary of his passing, and for the 20-year-old college student, the pain of his death was especially bad on this day. Tomás was tragically killed by a group of racists who were not too keen on sharing their small town with someone they thought was an illegal immigrant. The fact that he was Puerto Rican and, thus, a U.S. citizen, did not occur to them as they screamed at him to “go back to Mexico.” His body was found, beaten and bloody, two miles from campus by local police. Amir knew that, had his killers knew Tomás was gay. His murder would have been much worse. Amir knew that Tomás would’ve put up a hell of a fight if pushed to defend himself. The young Latino was always the more athletic of the two of them. At 5’8” tall and weighing only 135 pounds, Amir would not be able to put up a fight with one average-sized person, let alone two. However, Tomás carried 200 pounds of ripped, rippling muscle on a 6’ frame, making him more than a match for them. If only it could make him bullet-proof… Amir tried desperately to keep from losing himself in grief and despair. He was so wrapped up in his sadness that he almost didn’t see the glass bottle sitting in the sand. Curious, he picked it up and inspected it. It looked elaborately decorated, like the kind Tomás’s Abuelita had on her dresser for perfumes. Sealing the bottle was a simple cork stopper, just big enough to keep its contents, if any, inside. On the side of the opaque glass bottle was some writing in Arabic. He couldn’t make out the words, as the writing seems to have faded with time. Something told him to open it, but he was unsure of what he would find inside. His curiosity won the day, and Amir uncorked the bottle. Almost immediately, a thick cloud of reddish smoke erupted from the bottle, surrounding him and clouding his vision completely. Sputtering and coughing, he dropped the bottle in the sand and tried to make his way to fresh air. As he cleared the smoke, he turned around and watched in awe as the smoke was replaced by something he could not believe. Out of the smoke emerged a figure who stood at least seven feet tall and was impossibly massive. He looked like a Photoshopped morph of a heavyweight bodybuilder with a red tint, as his skin was a bright scarlet color. His traps reached high towards his ears, while his broad shoulders and back made him look too wide for most doors. A few veins ran down each of his massive biceps, and his hands and forearms would make Popeye jealous. Thick pecs bounced absent-mindedly, protruding from his ribcage and providing just the right amount of shade for his obscenely defined eight-pack abs. What must have been an impressive set of tree-trunk legs were concealed by a pair of linen pants that look like they came out of the closet of a male belly dancer. What hair he had on his head was concealed by a white turban, accented by a red-orange gem. The red-skinned muscle-god stretched and smiled. “Do I have you to thank, little one, for my freedom?” he asked in a resonant baritone voice. Amir was slack-jawed as he drank in the sight of this scarlet behemoth, barely able to put two words together coherently. Dumbly, he nodded. The beast of a man embraced him joyfully, picking him up as one would a five-pound bag of rice. “A thousand blessings upon you, little one,” he said, overjoyed at his savior. “I thought I would never be free of that accursed bottle. As a token of my gratitude, I shall grant your deepest desire.” “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Amir said, trying to make sense of what just happened. “Who or what are you, and how did you get into that bottle?” “Surely you know of the jinn?” he said incredulously. “I am Qadir ibn Qarim. As for how I became trapped in that bottle, I was trapped inside of it by a powerful, um… What is the word? Ah yes, sorcerer.” “This thing looks like something from an antique shop,” Amir responded. “How long have you been in there?” “Let’s see,” Qadir mused. “The last thing I remember was news from the West about an explorer sailing to the Indies by going west. I believe his name was Columbus or something like that.” “Columbus? Christopher Columbus?” Amir exclaimed. “You mean to tell me you’ve been in that thing for over 600 years?” “Has it been that long? I thought it had been longer.” the jinn responded. “You must understand, my friend, six hundred years seems shorter for me than for you because of my immortality. But anyway, onto your wish.” You thought long and hard about what your greatest desire was. “To be honest,” Amir began, “I want to wish that my lover, Tomás, could be brought back. He… died two years ago today, and it still hurts to be without him.” “I am truly sorry for you, my friend. Unfortunately, I am unable to bring back the dead. Such a thing would defy the laws by which all jinn must abide. But, I sense there is something else that you want. Something related to your lost love.” Now it was Amir’s turn to turn red. “Well,” he began, “I’ve always wanted to be built like him, if not bigger. Tomás was always into lifting weights and getting as big and muscular as possible. He talked about growing to 300 pounds of muscle. It was a fantasy of ours, but I never had the nerve to start working out. Hey, maybe I could wish to have the kind of muscles you have, sort of as a way to remember him.” Qadir ibn Qarim smiled. “As you wish,” he said as he snapped his fingers. Amir immediately felt a warm sensation spreading throughout his body from his chest. This warmth increased in intensity as he began to sweat profusely. A tightness begins manifesting across Amir’s body, centering on his muscles. No, not a tightness. A feeling of… growth, expansion. Looking at his arms, Amir saw that his clothes were not shrinking, but rather he was growing. He watched as his thin arms ballooned with muscle, filling the sleeves of his black T-shirt. His hands explored every inch of his swelling body that he could, reveling in the growth. His pecs began to inflate with brawn beneath his hands as his shoulders and lats spread his arms out wider and wider. His sweatpants soon started to feel more and more like tights as his swelling thighs and calves expanded with power. The sensation of every muscle in his body becoming more massive and stronger was intoxicating, almost like a drug in and of itself. So enthralled was Amir by the feeling of his muscles swelling with power that he almost didn’t notice the loud chorus of rips and tears emanating from all over his body. His shirt, once two or three sizes too big for him, not burst into pieces from being far too small, while his jeans suffered the same fate. The young man groaned as he hulked out of his clothes, his cock rock-hard as he did. His growing soon started to slow, signaling that he was nearing his final size. Amir thought that he had cum when he burst through his clothes. As his growth stopped, he looked down to see that he, in fact, had cum all over himself. “Most impressive, my friend,” Qadir said, as a teacher would say to student who had shown him a project that would earn him an A+. “You should see the new you.” With a snap of his fingers, a full-length mirror appeared in front of him from the same white smoke that brought the jinn from the bottle. There in the mirror was a massive beast of a man. The beast had Amir’s face, though it was more filled out with muscle. The body beneath his head, however, was a caramel-colored clone of Qadir. Amir raised one arm and flexed his biceps. The beast did the same, causing a mountain worthy of the Himalayas to erupt in the space between his shoulder and forearm. Wide-eyed, Amir did the same to the other arm. The beast in front of him copied his movement, creating a twin peak to the first as iron-hard as its brother. With a beat and a blink, he remembers that he’s staring at a mirror. “Woah,” Amir exclaims. “That’s me?” He blinks as the realization sets in. “Oh me God! How-- How did you--? This is unreal! I can’t thank you enough!” Amir embraced the jinn ecstatically, completely elated that his biggest fantasy has come true. “You are quite welcome, my friend,” Qadir responded. Amir pulled away as he heard the hint of loneliness in the jinn’s voice. “What will you do now?” Amir asked. “Visit family or friends or something?” “My family have probably forgotten about me by now, and I never had many friends,” Qadir responded as he caressed Amir’s newly muscular pecs. “But I would like to become closer to you, my muscular young prince.” “I’m not really a prince,” Amir said. “Is that not what your name means?” Qadir asked. Amir nodded, silently admitting that the jinn was right. “So, my large prince,” Qadir said, his eyes shining with lust as he tweaked Amir's sensitive nipples, “let us see what that body can really do.”
  3. To add to this one, I have a question of my own. Can I get away with sweetening the coffee? I can drink it black, but I usually have my morning cuppa with some sugar.
  4. Whenever I get a chance, I make a meal that's a mix of rice, beans, and some kind of meat (sausage as often as not) to keep things simple. This is a common meal in many Caribbean homes (I'm West Indian on my father's side) and can easily be put in Tupperware bowls to reheat as lunch. Would this be optimal for muscle gain, as it has two sources of protein and the rice as carbs, or should I change something? It can be adjusted to include, say, ground turkey or beef that's been seasoned.
  5. One thing I did was give a muscular main character psychic powers. Telepathy is a good one, especially for sex scenes. I once did that and had the character do what I like to call an "emotional echo-chamber," bouncing his lust and that of his sex partner back and forth with it building each time.
  6. Put me down for the 4th. This gives me plenty of time, and a few recent RPs gave me some ideas.
  7. This journey of mine to muscle-godhood will not be easy.  It helps that I can use the inspiration of the people here as a fixed point.  In the meantime, I think I should find an avatar for my profile.

  8. There are three words, especially, that shock me about this whole situation: Latinos for Trump. I understand that people are entitled to their own beliefs, but a Latino/a who supports the actions of a man who called Mexicans rapists ("and some, I assume, are good people...") boggles my mind.
  9. I don't know if this was suggested or not, but maybe it's a muscle-god avatar that we can customize. I doubt the site has the software to pull that off, but a guy can dream.
  10. Music can clearly influence one's emotional state, from relaxing in the evening to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata to releasing pent-up anger with many heavy metal songs. So I figured I'd pose this to the community. What are some of the songs you listen to while lifting?
  11. Videos like this tend to attract three kinds of viewers on Youtube: 1) gay muscle-worshipers, 2) people who, while not necessarily a muscle-worshiper, appreciate the work that was put into his physique (e.g. other athletes), and 3) people who are quick to accuse the bodybuilder of pumping themselves full of steroids, HGH, synthol, etc. The down-votes likely came from camp number 3.
  12. growth

    Very well-written. The ending does seem to imply a sequel; is there one in the works?
  13. There was one (I think it was in the unfiltered section) about a massively muscled, anthropomorphic hyena who ended up getting worshiped by the cheetah principal before filling her to capacity with his cum.
  14. It's easy for me to write about someone growing the kind of muscles that stretch clothes and bulge in the right places. But for me to morph myself, not so much. The two things that limit me are finances and motivation. The first will take a lot of work, but I can start on the second. Well, here goes nothing...

    1. flamedelft

      flamedelft

      Hey, I'm sure you'll do great, remember that the guys here will cheer you on :)