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amauiguy

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About amauiguy

  • Rank
    100+ Posts

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  • Location
    Fort Lauderdale, FL
  • This profile is a...
    ---
  • Gender
    Male
  • Orientation
    Gay
  • What are your interests?
    Muscle, working out, getting bigger. Wrestling, hiking, sci-fi, current events, science, technology, reading, writing.
  • What are your stats?
    5'10" 185 lbs.
  • What are you seeking?
    Stories, chat
  • What are your dream stats?
    Pro bodybuilder size.
  • Favorite Stories
    Anything by Londonboy--it's like he's living inside my head or something. Of his, the concluding chapter of Awakening the Shy Muscle Man is my favorite.
    There are so many other excellent authors (based upon the contents of the original website) that I could not even attempt to give credit where it's due. Thanks to all the authors who have submitted stories. Your efforts are appreciated.
  • Favorite Bodybuilders
    Dennis Wolf, Sagi Kalev,
  • Got Any Fetishes?
    Size difference comparisons. Really like when a big man shows off and compares with a small man. Can get into bigger dominating smaller, too, especially physically.

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  1. Part 2 – Trying out the gains The man gazed at the bodybuilder, enjoying JT's self-discovery almost as if he were groping the muscular flesh himself. The bodybuilder puffed out his chest and ran his hands over his pecs. They felt bigger. He flexed his arms alternately, rubbing first one than the other, appraising the small but unexpected increase in size. And he was feeling pumped! JT quickly put on his shorts and tank top. "Hold this for me," he said, handing his sweatshirt to the eager worshipper. "I'm feeling energized. Let's see what this mass can do." The smaller man, clutching the sweatshirt to his chest, trailed like a puppy as the bodybuilder strode out of the locker room. As he followed JT down the stairs, the man goggled at his wide shoulders and thick traps. Seen from above, they were even more impressive. Without hesitation, JT walked directly to the nearest flat bench. "Put two plates on that side," he instructed. The older man fumbled for a second, finally deciding to drape JT's sweatshirt over his shoulder, and added the plates. JT slid under the bar and quickly pumped out ten reps. "Another plate on each side," he ordered, adding, "I feel strong!" As the man added another plate to each side, he calculated the total: 305 pounds! The man shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't even do that much on the leg press. Without hesitation, JT cranked out another ten reps, nearly as easily as before. His muscles seemed to glow from the pump they were getting. "More!" demanded the bodybuilder. The man quickly added then another plate to each side and moved to spot, "I don't know if I can spot you with this much weight," he warned. JT scoffed and gripped the bar precisely. Inhaling, he lifted it from the stand and slowly brought it down almost to his chest. Exhaling like a bull, he pushed the heavy bar back up. Again and again, he repeated it, lungs working like a bellows with each rep. The man studied JT's pecs as they flexed and relaxed. They were getting bigger, bigger than if it were just from the pump. Counting along silently, the man prepared to help rack the weight. "This feels great," JT said. "Step back, I'm going for twenty." Eyes opened wide in surprise, the man stepped back. He still watched carefully, but it soon became apparent that each additional rep was getting easier rather than harder. JT maintained proper form. His pace was slow and methodical. As he neared twenty, he was barely straining. JT racked the bar at twenty and stood up. His pecs threatened to escape the straps of his tank top. He placed a hand on one pec, hefting the mass. "Oh, yeah!" he moaned, then said, "time to see what these guns can do." The big bodybuilder moved down the dumbbell rack, until he found the weight he wanted. He grabbed them and pumped out a set of ten standing biceps curls. Shaking his head, he put the dumbbells back on the rack and selected a heavier pair. This time he did a set of ten hammer curls. JT was like a machine, using perfect form for each rep. Switching up to the next higher set of dumbbells, JT turned to the man and said, "Watch this." The man moved right beside JT. Heat emanated from the big man, like a furnace. There was also the alluring scent of testosterone and clean sweat. His eyes focused on the nearest arm as JT started another set of curls. The biceps flexed. Beneath the thin skin, his veins writhed. "Feel it," commanded JT. The man eagerly grabbed on to the arm with both hands, being careful not to interfere with the motion. The veins beneath his hands throbbed with each of JT's heartbeats. The muscle was like warm steel expanding and contracting in his grasp. As JT finished the set and placed the dumbbells back on the rack, he paused for a moment, thinking. "I have a better idea," he said with a mischievous grin. He turned quickly, placed one hand under each of the other man's arms, and lifted him up as easily as a parent lifting a child. "This will work," said JT, as he began doing reps. Each rep brought the man's crotch up to eye-level with JT. The man's prominent erection strained against the fabric of his shorts. JT loved having that effect on worshippers. The man was in a mixed state of surprise and bliss. His hands rested on JT's flexing arms, his eyes closed savoring the experience. This show of strength was more than he had hoped. Each rep rubbed his hardness against the fabric of his shorts. It was too late when he realized he had reached the point of no return. JT, feeling the man shudder and twitch in his hands, smiled. He set the blushing man gently back on his feet, holding him for a few moments to make sure he wouldn't topple over. Looking at the large stain spreading on the front of the man's shorts, JT said, "I appreciate the tribute." He added with a nod, "you can borrow the sweatshirt for now." Hastily the man tied the bodybuilder's sweatshirt around his waist. "That was incredible," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. The men heard an, "Ahem," from behind them. Tristan, the desk attendant built like a gymnast, had come up behind them. "I was wondering why it was taking you so long for your tour, Mr. King. I guess you've decided to join? It certainly looks like you know your way around a gym," added the young attendant sincerely. Both JT and the other man sighed in relief. Tristan must have missed the exhibition by only a few seconds or else his reaction would have been entirely different. "That sweatshirt you were wearing when you arrived was hiding more muscle than I expected," said the desk attendant, his cheeks reddening after realizing what he had just said. "My friend…" JT raised an eyebrow at his spotter. "Matt," offered the older man helpfully. "My friend Matt was helping me try out some of the equipment," said JT. "Yes, I'll take the full week." "Great, I'll prepare the paperwork," he replied. His eyes wandered over JT's physique, lingering on the bodybuilder's large pecs and nipples. Snapping out of it, he added, "I'll be back in just a minute. Thank you, Dr. Sullivan, for helping our new member." As Tristan stepped away, JT turned to the man beside him and asked, "Dr. Sullivan?" Matt nodded. "By training, I'm a biochemist and an endocrinologist. My job allows me time to work on my own projects. I suspect what happened to you was related to experiments I have been doing with bioelectric fields." The man watched JT's face as the big man processed that information. "Can I persuade you to participate in a couple of experiments?" JT's head was nodding before he had consciously decided. "Yes, I think so. Can you tell me more?" he asked. "Certainly," the doctor replied. "I must head to the office for a couple of hours. Are you free for lunch at noon? There is a little restaurant only two doors down from here," he suggested. "Yes, that works for me," replied JT, just as Tristan returned with the membership papers. Dr. Sullivan pulled out a business card and motioned for the pen from Tristan. "Here's my cell number, in case anything comes up," he said, writing it on back of the card. "Ok, see you then," said JT confidently. He looked forward to learning more. Matt Sullivan also said good-bye to Tristan and headed quickly for the door, already late for his first appointment. JT quickly checked over the form and signed. He looked at Tristan and asked, "I thought you had to stay and watch the desk?" "It's ok. Josh starts at ten and came in a little early. It's usually pretty quiet at this time of morning." Tristan looked at the clock, "and my shift just ended. I wanted to make sure you were able to find everything you were looking for." "Maybe," replied JT, lifting a big arm to casually scratch the back of his neck. He watched Tristan's reaction. Tristan gulped at the size of the much bigger man. "Even though my shift is over, I'd be happy to answer any questions. Usually I use this hour as my workout time. Today I don't have class at the university until 2 p.m. and then wrestling practice after that." A smile grew on JT's face as he remembered one of the training rooms. "Now that you mention it, there is something I have a question about. Let's go upstairs."
  2. The following is more of a teaser than a story, or perhaps consider it Chapter 1. It's based roughly upon a description and profile blurb of a bodybuilder I discovered recently. I won't promise any sequels at this point, but feel free to make suggestions, or use your own imaginations to continue the story. ============== "How much is a day pass?" "Fifteen dol...," the desk attendant started to reply, looking up from his paperwork. He gulped then answered more steadily, "Fifteen dollars, sir. Or sixty dollars for a full week," he added hopefully. The corners of the tall man's mouth turned up just a bit. He was used to that kind of reaction, but he still found it amusing. If he hadn't been wearing a loose sweatshirt, the next question would have been, "do you compete?" "I want to take a look around first," said the man. "Of course," said the attendant pulling out a form. "Would you mind signing this waiver first? We need it for anyone who goes out on the gym floor." He looked up at the big man and added apologetically, "I'll also need to see your ID." As the man pulled out his wallet, he inhaled deeply expanding his large chest. He observed the attendant carefully. "Looks like you spend a lot of time in the gym," said the attendant, as he took the man's ID. The man nodded but hid his disappointment. He knew there would be more chances to find the reaction he needed. While the attendant was making a copy of the ID, the man skimmed over the form and signed. "Here you go, Mr. King," said the attendant, handing back the ID. "I need to stay here at the desk, but feel free to look around. Free weights and machines are here on the first level. Upstairs are the training rooms, locker rooms, and some additional cardio equipment. If you have any questions, I'll be here. My name is Tristan," he added. Yes, JT King wanted to look around. The equipment and facilities were important, but he was seeking something he wanted even more, or rather _someone_. He was in town vacationing and had selected this gym intentionally. It catered to serious bodybuilders. Gyms like this drew big muscle. They were also magnets for muscle admirers. That's what the big man sought. Over the years as he got bigger, JT learned to tell the difference between two groups of admirers: The Impressed and The Obsessed. JT thrived on the attention of the men so obsessed with muscle that being in the same room with him could render them speechless. The desk attendant was in the former category. While JT appreciated his attention, clearly Tristan was not obsessed. Back when he was in his late teens, JT discovered bodybuilding. At that time, he was 6'1" and weighed 185 lean lbs. With focus, discipline, and hours and hours of hard work, he added muscle to his lanky frame. Within a couple of years, he had added a couple of inches in height and a little over twenty pounds of lean mass. He hadn't realized how his size had changed until the day he visited a grocery store after his workout. A stranger stopped him in the aisle, remarked on how big he was and asked to feel his biceps. JT was surprised but leaned down to the shorter man and flexed his arm. "Sure," said JT proudly. "Feel how hard this peak is." He turned his fist back and forth making the muscle jump under the man's hand. The man, his face flushed, squeezed the rock-hard muscle. First with one hand then with both together, the man rubbed and tried to knead the muscle. "Wow! It's like stone. Amazing... like steel... so hard... so strong..." the man's voice trailed off like he was in a trance as he continued groping the muscular arm. JT noticed a tent growing in the man's pants. It matched his own. Enjoying the attention, yet not wanting to make a scene, JT gently pulled his arm out of the man's grasp. "Hey buddy," JT said, nodding toward the man's arousal, "thanks for the compliment." Walking out to his car, JT grinned. He had enjoyed that, especially when the mortified man dashed off toward the store's restroom. JT strolled through the gym checking out the equipment and the other members. There was the usual assortment for this time of day--a few hardcore lifters and young business types, as well as some middle aged and older people. He had chosen this time intentionally knowing the gym would not be packed with the casual social crowd--the ones who spent more time texting and talking than they did lifting. As he looked over the free weights and other equipment, he received the admiring glances that he had grown to expect. Whether or not they were true muscle obsessives remained to be seen. Eventually, the big man made his way upstairs. He passed several training rooms. One had a variety of treadmills, elliptical equipment, and rowing machines. Another had a weight bag, a couple of speed bags, and some thick climbing ropes hanging from the high ceiling. There was even one padded with thick wrestling mats. At the end of the hall he found the locker room. He smiled at the floor to ceiling mirrors lining one wall. The locker room was quiet, not that it mattered. In seconds his sweatshirt and tank top were off and folded on a nearby bench. Flexing his quads with each step, he made his way before the mirrors. He appraised his lean bulk and began to pose. Turning to the side, he grabbed his wrist, flexed his arm up under his ribs, and puffed out his chest. His pecs swelled, their striations clearly visible. The natural taper of his waist was accentuated by the side pose. Even his baggy shorts couldn't hide the high rounded mounds of his well-developed glutes. Turning to face the mirrors, JT's big arms came up as he snapped into a double biceps pose. His eyes ran over the peaks on each arm, tracing the cables of veins showing beneath his thin skin. From there he flowed into the front lat spread, arms angled out and his fists down to his sides. This showed off his big round shoulders and thick lats. He lost track of the time as he moved expertly from pose to pose, tensing and flexing each one, building up a good pump. Boom, back lat spread. Boom, side triceps. One after another. In his dreams, each pose made him grow bigger. His skin glistened from the effort. Finally, he was ready for his last pose. He always saved it for last because it was his favorite. With a roar, he crunched down into the most muscular pose, shaking from the strain of flexing every one of his pumped muscles. JT heard a gasp. In the mirrors, stood a man behind him staring open mouthed. JT growled and flexed even harder, eliciting another gasp from the man. "Bingo!" thought JT. Although the man was probably old enough to be his father, JT didn't care. He had learned that true obsessives came in many shapes and sizes. It all depended upon their attitude and also, more importantly, the energy of his connection with them. JT slowly released the pose and rose to his full height. He turned and faced the man. "Like what you see?" asked JT, raising an eyebrow. "Definitely," the admirer replied. He approached JT to inspect more closely. His eyes roamed all over the bigger man's body, never pausing more than a couple of seconds at any one body part. JT had seen this reaction before in admirers who were truly obsessed. The man was like a kid in a candy store, wanting to sample everything and not quite knowing where to start. The bodybuilder helped him decide. He pulled up the right leg of his shorts and extended his muscular quad. First, he relaxed the muscle and wobbled it back and forth, showing off its mass. Then he flexed it, locking it in place as if it were made of stone. Without even asking, the man's hands grabbed and started caressing the bulk of the quad. JT felt a small shock, like from static electricity after you scuff your feet on the carpet. The man tried to squeeze the muscle. His knuckles grew white applying the pressure, but he was able only to move the thin skin around a bit. "You didn't bring posing trunks?" the man asked, looking up expectantly. Without a word, JT removed his shorts, revealing a pair of bright red posers. He handed his shorts to the man and pointed to the bench where his other clothing lay. The man reverently folded the shorts and placed them on the bench, but not before bringing them to his nose to take a deep sniff. The man returned quickly to JT's side. The bodybuilder was ready. Now that he was in his posers, the man could better appreciate the hours of squats and leg presses that he had been doing. JT turned his muscled glutes toward the man. Accepting the unspoken offer, the man placed his hands on either side of JT's remarkable ass. The bodybuilder flexed his glutes alternately, looking over his shoulder at his admirer's adoration. Next, he bent forward keeping his legs straight and touched his toes. He slowly stood back up, clenching his glutes the whole time as the man's hands moved and pressed and tried to squeeze his hard muscle. The man's hands made their way down from glutes to hamstrings to calves, pressing and squeezing as they went. He'd stop squeezing occasionally to trace the cord of a vein. The man was muttering to himself and JT could make out an "oh my," or "so big" every now and then. JT was enjoying the attention as much as the man seemed to be. As the smaller man's hands roamed reverently all over the powerful legs, JT waited for the right moment. Boom! JT closed his legs together tightly, trapping the man's hands between them. The man cried out in surprise, then struggled to pull them free. After half a minute, JT relented. The man pulled his hands out and wiggled his fingers, making sure they still worked. From the bulge in the man's gym shorts, JT's muscle demonstration was triggering a reaction. JT was glad to be wearing his stretchy posers, since it was affecting him almost as much. Turning to face the shorter man, the bodybuilder showed off his right forearm, twisting his fist in and out to make the muscle jump. The man traced up and down the thick veins with a finger and JT shivered involuntarily. That was strange, he thought. He didn't feel cold. JT pulled his arm away and stood with his chest out, arms akimbo, like superman. The admirer froze for a moment staring at the mounds of pumped up pec meat there before him, then reached out. This time he stretched a finger and very lightly flicked the tip of a nipple. Now it was the big man's turn to gasp. Like earlier, he felt a small shock, a bit like static electricity but not quite. And his pec quivered for a couple of seconds after. The man had noticed. He gently flicked the nipple again, watching in awe. The muscle twitched again and actually seemed to get bigger. "Did you see that?" asked the man. "See what?" asked JT, adding, "that felt amazing." JT stood with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensations emanating from his nipple and spreading across his broad pec. The man moved his finger and held it poised above JT's other nipple. He anxiously watched JT's face. When the bodybuilder opened his eyes and looked down questioningly, the man smiled and very gently flicked the other nipple. The reaction was much stronger. JT shuddered as his pec pulsed and grew slightly but noticeably larger. JT flexed an arm and offered it to the man. The man's hand started tingling even before he touched the bulging peak. JT felt it as well. The energy was getting stronger. The man clasped his palm over the peak, his fingers stretching not even halfway around the already large muscle. Tingling ran up and down JT's arm. The muscle throbbed, pushing the man's fingers farther apart as it expanded. "You must be balanced," the man said, nodding to JT's other arm. JT flexed it and the man grabbed on. Both men reveled in the feeling of the muscles as they expanded. They stood in awe of what had just occurred, their minds brimming with possibilities.
  3. amauiguy

    Prompt

    Cool idea! My favorites are big vs little where big wins. In case you didn't know, there's a whole section for ideas. Lots of things to choose from over there. https://muscle-growth.org/forum/9-fantasies-and-story-ideas/
  4. Keith strutted into the deserted gym next to Orchid University. He loved working out late at night, jumping to whatever exercise he felt doing and not having to wait at any of the machines. Not that other guys made him wait. His 6'3 and 242 pound frame not only earned him success on the football field, it also intimidated anyone that got in his way. Not to mention the attention of the girls… He continued past the deserted counter and entered the locker room. He put his bag on a bench and began getting out his shake and towel. "Hi, Keith". The faint voice made Keith turn around and he stared down at the skinny guy that had just entered. He recognized Tyrone, some skinny freshman who worked in the gym. He nodded and returned to his stuff. "What are you training tonight?", the little guy asked, "Or just a quick workout for football?". Great. A talker, just what I need. Why do guys that wanna talk don't go to bars?, Keith thought as he tried to ignore the guy. "Not in a mood to talk? Focused on training, he?", Tyrone went on. Keith turned to face the guy with an annoyed look on his face. He noticed how the shirt hung like a tent on the freshman's pathetic body and how his shorts covered his legs almost completely. He unzipped his hoody and took it off, revealing his heavily muscled torso highlighted by his skintight tank top. Tyrone gulped at the sight of the round shoulders that stuck out like bowling balls to support the thick arms. A smug grin formed on Keith's face at the small guy's reaction. "Training builds muscle. Ya should try it", he said and casually bounced his pecs. "Tough guy, he", Tyrone replied, "Want to test your strength?". He motioned to a weird machine placed at the end of the row of lockers. It was some old-looking grip strength tester. It had an electronic display in the center and below there were four metal handles. "Ya want to go up against me? In a test of strength?", Keith asked laughingly and throw a double bicep pose. His meaty arms swelled to their 20 inches of muscle covered with some fat. "Just for fun", Tyrone said without taking his eyes from the orbs atop the large guy's arms as he moved to the machine. Keith shook his head incredulously and stepped over to the machine, completely dwarfing the freshman. They both grabbed hold of two handles. "Who's the alpha and who's the beta?" The display read off as it sprang to life. "I'll go first", Tyrone said and squeezed the handles with all his might. His 120 body shook and his face turned red from the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said. Keith followed. He gripped the handles firmly and clenched his thick fist, his body barely feeling the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said, "TIE!" "Seems like were matched", Tyrone peeped, "Let's try again". He repeated his earlier movement, getting another 'POWERHOUSE' reading. Keith couldn't believe this pathetic guy was matching his power. His competitive nature took over and he pressed the handles again. "MUSCLE MAN", the display showed, "Advantage to player one! Next round!". "Not so tough after all, it seems", Tyrone said and continued the game to get another "POWERHOUSE" reading. "What the fuck?!", Keith boomed, "This game is rigged". He summoned his strength, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed the handles. "MANLY", the display showed. Black dots danced shortly before Keith's eyes and a shiver traveled down his spine as he read off the text. "How…", he began and the other words died in his throat as he looked down at his body. His torso no longer strained his tank top. The fabric now sat more loosely around his somehow diminished muscles. He didn't stand out like the heavily muscled guy he used to be, but looked more like someone who worked out regularly. He glanced aside and noticed the other change: the once skinny Tyrone was now filling out the shirt that hung on him like a tent minutes earlier. The guy could now easily pass for a model. "My turn again", Tyrone said in a deepened voice. "No. I give", Keith said and tried releasing the handles but his paws seemed somehow fused to them. "We have to continue the game until there's an alpha", Tyrone said and applied his strength to the handles. "POWERHOUSE!", the display said. Keith gulped as he saw a jolt shoot through the freshman's body. He reluctantly copied his opponent's grab, noticing how the handles seemed to resist. He stared in disbelief at the display as it read "Mr. PUNY". Tyrone looked aside and saw more mass disappear from the football player's body. Their bodies were pretty evenly matched now. "Oh yeah", he grunted as he felt the energy flowing through the handles into his growing body. He grabbed the handles again, now easily pressing into the metal. "POWERHOUSE!!" "Why are there exclamation marks on it?", Keith asked in his weakened voice while he saw another jolt of growth shoot through the now pumped up fitness model-sized freshman that began looking bigger than him. "There's more power in my body now", Tyrone replied in a baritone voice, "your turn". "Do I have to?", Keith muttered. "DO IT!", Tyrone boomed. Keith shook and instinctively obeyed the bigger man. His body shook with effort and his face turned beat red. "WEAKLING" Keith felt another wave of weakness dance through him. His once skintight tank top now hung loosely from his diminished frame. He felt his sweatpants slide down along his thinning legs. He looked down and saw that he had lost every ounce of muscle he'd ever gained. The movement next to him caught his eye. Tyrone saw the mass siphon away from the football player's body and pass through the machine into him. His formerly baggy shirt now clung to his beefed up torso: his swelling pecs pulled the fabric forward while his thickening back pushed the fabric backward and his broadening lats put more and more tension on the seams. The sleeves that used to cover most of his arms didn't even cover his upper arms anymore: his widening shoulders pulled the fabric up to showcase his meaty arms. His baggy shorts now came only halfway on his thick quads. Keith gulped as he had to look up to catch the freshman's eye. The guy now looked like an amateur heavyweight bodybuilder. "Please", he pleaded in an unfamiliar higher voice, "no more. I can't get smaller". Tyrone just smirked and effortlessly tightened his grip around the metal handles, making the machine shake from his force. "POWERHOUSE!!!!!" Keith blinked in disbelief at the display. He refused to look aside as the shadow of the freshman grew and he heard the tearing sound of the ripping fabric. He knew he had no other option than to continue the game. He grunted as he summoned every ounce of force in his weakened body. The handles seemed to resist his grip. "PATHETIC" The letters on the display appeared to turn blurry and a wave of fatigue flowed through Keith. He could feel more size escaped his body and his boxers that used to showcase his meaty ass and lengthy cock fell to the ground. "CALCULATING SCORE", the display showed, "Player two… = BETA BOY!" Keith fell the last ounce of masculinity vanish from him. He felt his balls shrivel to the size of small marbles and pull closer to his body. His cock, once his 10 inches of pride followed this lead: it shrunk to a pencil-thin 2 incher. A ringing sound made him look back at the machine. "Player one", the display said, "… = TOTAL ALPHA!!!!!" "YEAUGH", Tyrone groaned as a final, yet very powerful surge shot through his huge frame. His tight, already ripped shirt exploded into shreds as his huge muscles grew to another level of thickness. A loud snapping sound followed as his shorts and boxers gave in under the pressure of his thickening waist. His head shot up as more height was added to his frame. He grunted as he felt the energy shot into his groin. His balls swelled to the size of lemons and sank lower in between his meaty quads and his 7 incher amassed girth and length, snaking further down against his leg. Without looking at the drained football player, he swaggered over to the mirror on the other side of the locker room. He ripped away the last remains of his destroyed shirt and stared at his nude reflection. "FUARK", Tyrone bellowed, his eyes widening in disbelief at the image of perfection staring back at him. He scanned every inch of his now beastly physique before beginning to explore his new body. His paws groped the protruding rack that hung from his chest, clawing at the hard meat of the half watermelon-sized pecs and testing the weight of meaty slabs; they slid down onto a stony eight-pack made of cobblestones separated by deep grooves. He licked his lips while taking in the size of his perfectly round shoulders that outsized bowling balls and the insane size of the monster arms that hung from them: the muscle on his upper arms twitched underneath the paper-thin skin and seemed ready to explode from it; his lower arms were crisscrossed with cable-sized cords of muscle. His lower body was just as impressive: his quads rivaled young trees in size; they were jam-packed with hard beef that eclipsed his kneecaps; his calves were bigger than most guys quads. He was about to grope the lengthy snake as a faint movement caught his attention. Keith had ignored the giant freshman, knowing he was no match for the guy now. While Tyrone went to inspect his new physique in front of the mirror, the diminished athlete made his move. He slowly released the handles he was still groping, pulled up his now baggy boxers and equally large sweatpants and kept his hand on them to prevent them from falling off again. He cautiously stepped to the door, making sure not to attract the freshman's attention. He grabbed the door handle and tried pushing it down. The door didn't move. He tried again, applying more force this time. "I locked it earlier when I came in". The deep rumbling bass filled the locker room like thunder and vibrated down Keith's weak body. His hand was frozen to the door handle. He heard the heavy footsteps and the large shadow grew on the door as the giant freshman came to him. A paw grabbed his armpit and dragged him in front of the mirror. He glanced up at his reflection and gasped: the ridiculously large clothes hung from his emaciated body and made him look like a kid who had put on his bigger brother's clothes. He peeped as the paw ripped away the clothes and exposed him completely. Tears welled up in his eyes: he looked like a weak boy instead off the hulking athlete he had been minutes earlier. Every trace of muscle that had once highlighted his physique, was gone. The layer of fat that used to give him a bulky appearance now made him look pudgy ad childlike. The beefy football player that dominated the team had been replaced by a meager boyish figure. He couldn't even remember having ever been this small. His 5'1, 105 pound body made him weak and puny by any standard. "Turn around!" The booming command made Keith jump up and he quickly did as he was told. He looked straight at the top row of the most deeply grooved set of abs he'd ever seen. He tilted his head up to stare at the face and instinctively took a step backward as his mind processed the size of the beastly freshman in front of him. The now 6'6, 330 pound Tyrone dwarfed him unlike anything he'd ever done to other guys. His own 242 pound body had been bulky and massive, but the giant freshman didn't seem to have an ounce of fat on him: deep grooves, striations and veins edged along the hulking mass of his hard muscles that pushed against his skin. His square face, shadowed by a five o'clock beard sat atop an insanely thick neck that flowed into a broad line capped with boulder-like shoulders. Striations were visible through the thin skin stretched across the perfectly round delts. A thick vein snaked over the shoulders down on the ham-sized arms and branched off in dozens of smaller veins to feed the huge biceps at the front and the thick triceps that jutted out from the back. The beastly freshman outsized even elite superheavyweight bodybuilders. He looked like an anatomy chart that had come to live and was perfectly proportioned, except for his arms that seemed just a tad too big. Masculinity seemed to ooze from him and hang in the air like electricity around his hulking frame. Tyrone moved in front of the mirror and threw a most muscular. "FUARK", he roared as his muscles exploded in a symphony of harness, striations and veins across his body, "seems like there's a Tyrex in town". The faint 'wow' made him turn his attention back to the former athlete next to him. A smug grin formed on his face as he noted the awe in the frail guy's eyes. "Yo Keith", he said and brought his right arm up in front of his torso and flexed it, 'BADABOOM". Keith's eyes widened while the bicep in front of him exploded in size. The orb of hard meat sprang upward and outward into a pineapple-sized muscle choked in veins. The bicep swelled and hardened some more as the beastly freshman tightened his flex fully, stopping just below 30 inches of pure muscle. The sight of the massive arm hardening inches from his face made Keith's cock race to hardness and spew out a small, watery load that dribbled from the 2 incher. Tyrone noticed the fallen athlete's reaction and felt a jolt go through his own cock while he realized he totally dominated the small guy. He relaxed his right arm, placed his paw atop the guy's bony shoulder and pushed him down. Keith was forced to his knees by the paw that covered his shoulder, upper arm and half of his flat chest. He looked forward and stared straight at the fleshy snake that was lengthening along the thick quad and began rising upward. Within seconds the 14 inch cock was at full length, veins running along the thick shaft and the purple red head pointed directly at his face. He looked up but he couldn't see the freshman's face: the protruding rack of pecs hide it from his view. "Please…", he pleaded but a large paw grabbed the back of his head and the snake was rammed into his mouth. Tyrone grinned as he felt the small guy's hand tug at his right arm that held his head in place. His thick forearms easily withstood the tugging. He pushed more of his cock into the hot mouth. Keith gagged as 10 inches of the fleshy snake filled his mouth. He ceased his clawing and placed his frail hands atop the beastly quads for support as the beastly freshman began pumping in and out his mouth. His vision was filled with the cobblestone-sized abs that flexed on the rhythm of the thrusts. "YEAUGHN", Tyrone roared as ecstasy exploded through his 330 pound body. His lemon-sized balls drew tight and began releasing their thick load into the fallen athlete's mouth. Keith quickly gulped down the first huge load, a second one filling his mouth seconds later. He sucked down as much of the sticky spunk as fast as he could, but the hefty balls kept blasting out loads. Cum began flowing from the corners of his mouth and even from his nose. His vision began going dark by the lack of oxygen. After 10 loads, the snake withdrew from his mouth and blasted a final load onto his face, coating it with liquid heat. The paw released his head and he slumped down to the floor. Tyrone turned his gaze back to his reflection in the mirror. He flexed his left arm, smirking as the huge muscle exploded into a massive orb of vein-covered beef. He would have sworn he heard his skin stretch tight as the monster bicep swelled to its new size. He went over to Keith's gym bag and grabbed his hoody. He ripped off the sleeves and put it on. The zipper could only close over his eight-pack, his pecs protruded so far from his chest that it was impossible to get the zipper up any further. He grabbed a pair of baggy sweatpants from another locker and pulled them on: they fight like a second skin over his gargantuan legs. He threw a final look on the emaciated senior lying on the floor and left.
  5. Nice, thanks for letting us know. Curious to read it.
  6. Yes, I agree with GymWolf. Very well done. Thanks for writing!
  7. Great well written teaser! Can easily stand on its own, or as an intro to a series. Hoping that you will post more, whether they're a continuation of this, more Scenes, or other unrelated works.
  8. amauiguy

    The Fridge

    Excellent continuation. Nice teasing and descriptions. Almost missed it since it was in the same thread as the first part.
  9. amauiguy

    The Fridge

    Off to a good start. Curious to see where you're taking this, especially since there were not any tags on the story. Something mysterious!
  10. Great start for chapter 1. Looking forward to more.
  11. Tried a new back routine with minor variations of my normal exercises (e.g. different grips, handles, etc.). Feeling it! That's a good thing. Now it's time for the foam roller.

    1. ThickRick

      ThickRick

      GRRRR! Hey Marcus, did you finish your cycle?

  12. Pissed off at the a-hole at the gym who gave me the flu... Two training days lost so far.

    1. cutlerfan

      cutlerfan

      Get well soon!

  13. Leg day! My favorite workout of all. Hope I'm still able to walk after I finish.

    1. amauiguy

      amauiguy

      In the groove today! Workout was nearly hurl-worthy. Got a hot date with my foam roller tonight so I'll be able to walk tomorrow.

    2. ThickRick

      ThickRick

      You are a stud, Marcus. I do not love leg day, and admire those who do. If you enjoyed almost barfing, I should bow down, Wayne's World style, and do the "We're not worthy" thing. I am duly impressed.

  14. Chest and triceps... good workout today!

    1. ThickRick

      ThickRick

      We're in sync, M. I did chest today too. "Chest day, the best day!" Always my favorite.

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