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“Hey everybody, this is Glenn!” “And this is Ben!” “We’re the Fortunato Brothers! And you’re watching another episode of ‘Can You Believe They Bought That Shit?’” TITLE -- THEME MUSIC “In this episode, we’re nosing in on the Storage Auction scene!” “Yeah, my brother and I took some of the profits we’ve made from our podcast this season and -- as usual -- WE BOUGHT SOME SHIT!” “What’d we get this time, Ben?” “That’s a good question, Glenn! The truth is -- I don’t know! Like everybody in the Storage Auction biz, we bought blind!” (EXTERIOR SHOT: Drone -- camera pans across the abandoned “ETERNAL STORAGE” building. There are faded egyptian pyramids painted on the storefront, symbolizing eternity -- subtly informing the viewer that they’ll own their junk forever. We can see the cracked asphalt of the old parking lot and the dilapidated condition of the building. Clearly, from the view, we’re in the middle of nowhere.) BEN (in VO): The Eternal Storage facility went out of business about a decade ago, but they never emptied it. Scheduled for demolition, “Eternal” decided to auction off the unclaimed lots, which these sorts of companies do regularly -- it’s even easier now, thanks to COVID. We bought our booty online. (INTERIOR SHOT: Hallway. Rows of storage units, resembling garage doors, run the dusty, broken down hallway. Some are open and empty, several are locked shut. The electric hall lights work by luck alone, creating a dim, prison-like atmosphere. The Buy-It Brothers are “Live” again. Glenn steps into frame.) “But you know us,” Glenn says, smiling his jowly, toothy grin at the camera. “We don’t ever buy a little shit when a lot of shit’s available!” Ben pops in frame, interrupting. “So we bought THREE of these things!” “Well, the fact is we bought an entire lot, which includes these three units, right here next to each other!” “Who knows what wonders we’ll find?” “No one till we open it. So, what do you say? Which one you wanna start with?” “Let’s start with Door Number One!” Ben says, pulling out a tagged key. As he unlocks an ancient, massive padlock that secures a chain to keep the metal “garage door” in place, his brother hogs the camera. “The fun of this style of ‘Blind Buying’ has spawned quite a few tv shows. Who knows what will be inside? Will it have value, or is it just old furniture and clothes? Is it King Tut’s tomb or Al Capone’s vault? If my brother can ever get the lock off, we’ll find out!” Smiling, Ben says, “This shit’s old!” “So’s your Momma!” Ben snorts, turning the key with great effort. “She’s your Momma, too,” he says, as the lock snaps open with a lethargic clack. “And you know she watches this show.” Ben pulls the chain out of the grating and the two of them squat down to open the sliding door. They couldn’t be less like each other, physically -- Glenn is built like a Snowman and Ben like a String Bean -- although you can see they’re related by face. And sense of humor. The hallway echoes with the sound of scraping, stubborn metal-on-metal force, as if the doorway didn’t fit correctly into its runners, as if it had been pounded out of shape. They get it up almost two feet before it won’t budge another inch. Ben, his skinny bod already used up, sighs loudly and pants. “Okay, maybe Tut’s tomb was a little easier! Want to try one of the others first?” Glenn is kneeling down, shining his flashlight into the darkness of the storage space. “No,” he says. “I can fit under this -- it doesn’t look like it’s jammed full of stuff -- lemme find the light.” “Go, Indy!” Ben mocks as Glenn slides (barely) under the stuck door. Ben gives a side-eye to the camera and whispers, “Indiana Jones was in better shape than my brother…” He harrumphs sarcastically, indicating his lean frame. “Usually, I’m the one squeezing into tight spaces, but my brother likes being the showman when the camera’s on. What’s going on in there?” he calls. “Hold on -- looking for a light. This is crazy!” “What?” Suddenly, the interior light comes on, flooding the space and leaking through the jammed metal door. “Holy crap! Get in here, Ben -- bring the camera!” (INTERIOR SHOT: Storage Unit One, about the size of a standard one-car garage, unpainted cinder-block walls with an overhead neon light. The space is full of gym equipment, not just stored willy-nilly, but set-up as if to be functional, as if someone worked out here. There’s a cable-crossover on the far end, before the mirrored wall. A squat rack on one side, a series of benches and dumbbells on the other. Dusty and cobwebbed, it hasn’t seen use in a while -- but it once did. Lots of use from its condition.) “Look at this!” Glenn says to the camera, smiling broadly. “This is someone’s gym!” Ben looks around. “Maybe some gym went out of business or something…” “No. This looks like someone used it. I mean, this stuff is set up, not stored.” He pulls a pair of 20-pound dumbbells from the rack and struggles to do some bicep curls. “Look at me,” Glenn laughs. “I’m Ah-nold!” He puts the dumbbells back on the rack with a clang that echoes through the space. His pear-shaped body couldn’t possibly look less like Schwarzenegger. Weird. “This is weird,” says Ben. “I know,” laughs Glenn. “Can You Believe We Bought That Shit?” Even Ben laughs at this. “Another mystery for the Buy-It Brothers!” he says back, smiling. “Hey, look back here! There’s a door to the next room -- we won’t have to try and open the front slider!” “Thank God,” Ben says, pulling the heavy wad of keys, chains, and rings from the pocket of his cargo shorts and dropping them on the flat bench. Behind and to the side of the cable crossover -- almost hidden to the eye -- there’s a standard gray industrial door that leads to the next unit. The knob has a keyhole, but as Glenn grabs it, the door breaks off its hinges and falls to the side, as if someone had forced their way through it and tried to put it back in place so no one would notice. “Fine construction,” Glenn jokes. “No wonder they’ve condemned this building.” “This is all very weird.” Glenn pulls the flashlight from out of his back pocket. “At least I know where the light switches are,” he says, entering the dark room. “Be careful,” Ben calls, shooting a nervous glance at the camera. He sees the light come on in the next room, but when he doesn’t hear anything more from his brother, he steps toward the door. “Glenn…?” His brother’s voice isn’t scared, exactly, but he certainly sounds concerned. “Ben,” he says, “bring the camera.” (INTERIOR SHOT: Interior of Unit Two. Ben is clumsy, so the camera is jerky as the stand is reset. This room is identical to the other in terms of construction (and lack of color), but it has a different function -- this is living quarters. At one end of the storage unit, along the wall is a simple cot with a nightstand, a lamp, and a small dresser -- a dull, circular floor rug breaks up the cement. On the other wall, a cheap recliner aimed at a crude, old-fashioned entertainment center -- a TV, a VCR and several dozen VHS tapes. Along the back end of the unit, the opposite end, a seatless toilet, a sink, and a showerhead -- there’s a centered floor drain beneath it.) Taking it all in, Ben says, “What the fuck?” Same tone from Glenn. “Can you believe we bought this shit?” “Glenn, what’s goin’ on? Do you think… someone LIVED here?” “Or was KEPT here.” There’s an uncomfortable silence, unusual between these two. To distract himself, Glenn goes to the entertainment center and picks up some of the VHS tapes. He snorts. “What?” asks Ben, turning the camera to catch Glenn. Glenn holds up the tapes to the camera. “It’s all gay porn,” he says. “And a few bodybuilding competitions.” Even Ben sighs and jokes, “Can you believe we bought that shit?” He chuckles. “Do you think any of this has any value at all?” Glenn shrugs, indicating the tapes. “They’re vintage,” he says. “And look,” he continues, turning the TV on, “TV still works!” The TV comes to life with gay porn, two muscular men in the depths of fucking. Crude and savage, the Buy-It Brothers both turn away. “Oh, Geez… turn it off, man!” But it won’t turn off -- Glenn hits the power button any number of times, but the TV keeps on keeping on. “It won’t turn off,” he says. “Looks like it’s gay porn to infinity!” Ben side-eyes the camera. “Unplug it,” he says, which Glenn acknowledges and pulls the plug from the wall -- the TV stops, mercifully. They’re spooked enough. Glenn holds up his hands like he’s won a race. “Ta-dah!” he sings. “Anything in the dresser?” he asks, nodding toward the piece. Ben seems afraid to look, but finally opens the top drawer, which he then immediately closes. “What?” Ben swallows dramatically. “Jockstraps and thongs,” he says. He opens the second drawer. “Underwear and posers,” he says, opening the third. “Spandex shorts and muscle shirts.” He grimly nods. “I am ready to cut our losses and not look in Unit Three.” “Oh, we’re so looking in Unit Three,” Glenn says, crossing to where the doorway would be. Instead, there’s literally a hole in the wall, as if someone had torn the cinderblocks away and made a doorway. Scraps of cement pieces and piles of broken cinderblocks still litter the floor. Someone had clearly meant to fix the damage -- there are a couple of loose bags of cement mix amid the rubble -- but clearly nothing had been done, just dust and destruction with a layer of time. “I mean, obviously, someone wanted in there very badly.” “Where the hell is the door?” asks Ben, moving the camera’s tripod to a new location. “What is going on around here?” “Well, it’s pretty full in here,” Glenn says from the doorway. “But I can slide down the wall and get the lights okay.” Again, after a couple of seconds, the lights come on, though this bulb isn’t quite as good, blinking and fizzing as Ben, carrying the camera, enters. (INTERIOR SHOT: Unit Three. A slightly smaller room than the other two -- maybe half the width -- filled with over a dozen wooden pallets loaded with beverage cases, wrapped tightly in heavy industrial plastic. Some are haphazardly stacked on top of others -- each pallet has six layers of product. They are dusty, resembling forgotten furniture after a hasty move or dinosaur carcasses after a meteor shower.) Ben looks into the camera. “The mystery deepens,” he says. Glenn pulls his knife from the Leatherman attached to his belt and cuts into the heavy plastic wrapping on one of the pallets. “Let’s see what they were hoarding,” he says, pulling out a plastic sports drink bottle, gray with red and gold lettering. “CYCLE ONE,” he reads, shrugging. “You ever heard of it?” “No.” Ben pulls out his phone instinctively to search it, but there’s no coverage inside. “Fucking cinderblocks,” he mumbles. Meanwhile, Glenn cracks open the plastic bottle and chugs it on down. “Glenn!” Ben hollers when he looks up. “What are you doing?” “What?” Glenn says, tossing the empty bottle away. “It’s just a sports drink! I didn’t see an expiration on it -- it was good!” He turns to the camera and adds, “Sadly, it hasn’t fermented.” “I can’t believe you just drank that!” Ben protests. “You don’t know anything about it!” “Oh, for the love of God, Ben! Give it up!” Ben shakes it off. “I’m sorry, bro,” he says. “This whole place has got me a little spooked, is all. This is very weird.” Glenn shrugs dramatically. “What? Some guy who used to own a gym loses it all and instead of being homeless and on the streets…” “...he chooses to live in a storage facility?” Ben finishes. “With his collection of porn, thongs, and sports drinks? No, that doesn’t sound weird at all.” Glenn snorts and begins counting the pallets. “Whatever,” he says. “Ready, math guy?” Ben opens his calculator app. “Ready!” he says. Glenn counts. “Each pallet has ten cases per layer and each is six layers high.” “Sixty cases!” Ben announces. “I didn’t even need the calculator for that!” Glenn laughs. “Twenty-four bottles per case means…?” “Fourteen-hundred forty bottles per pallet.” He counts quickly again. “Twenty pallets…?” “Means we own a shit-ton of this stuff.” Glenn smiles toward the camera. “I love math,” he says. “What are we gonna do with twenty-eight thousand, eight-hundred bottles of old sports drink?” “Twenty-eight thousand, seven ninety-nine,” Glenn chuckles, tossing his empty bottle dramatically over his shoulder, where it clunks emptilly around in the cinderblock space. “That’s gonna eat into our profit margins,” Ben says, shaking his head, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Ben, even if we sell it for a buck a bottle, we still make a shit-ton more than we spent. Plus the gym equipment…” “...and the vintage porn.” Glenn smiles. “And the vintage porn -- we’ll still come out ahead. That it happens to be weird gives us a story to tell, doesn’t it? That’s why we have this camera… and the show…” They both turn to the camera and smile. “Can You Believe We Bought This Shit?” Ben asks dryly. “Okay,” Glenn says, taking charge like he usually does, “we’ll need the Pallet Jack -- we didn’t bring that, did we? -- but we have room in the Hauler to fit all this stuff.” As he talks, he steps back into the middle unit-- the living area -- Ben follows dutifully, taking the camera along. “I doubt we’re gonna want to keep much of this stuff -- I guess the TV works tho, right? And who knows? Maybe there IS a market for vintage porn.” He laughs and walks into the first unit, the one with the gym equipment. “I don’t know how we’re gonna get this stuff outta here -- maybe the guys who buy it can haul it. I don’t know…” Suddenly, he jumps up and grabs the pull-up bar mounted on the top of the cable crossover. Ben is suddenly watching his middle-aged, rugby-thick, out-of-shape brother doing pull-ups -- exercising! “What are you doing?” Ben asks, already laughing. “Pull-ups!” Glenn says breathlessly as he struggles to do a third. He drops heavily onto his feet. “We own a gym now,” he says to his skinny-fat brother. “The Fortunato Brothers Fitness Center! Maybe it’s a sign we should get these sad-ass bods back in shape?” Ben laughs. “You feelin’ okay?” “I feel great!” Glenn says. “Seriously, I feel fucking GREAT! Ever since I had that…” He stops suddenly and looks away, toward the third unit. A devilish smile crosses his face and he exits with purpose back into the other rooms. “Glenn, what are you doing? GLENN!” Ben gives a look toward the camera and is about to go after his brother when Glenn reappears in the broken doorway, holding several bottles of CYCLE ONE. “This shit…” he starts to say. Ben immediately protests, holding his hands up. “Our profit margin!” Glenn tosses a bottle with an easy lob to his brother, but Ben -- never an athlete -- bobbles and drops it. The bottle rolls under the metal gate they’d opened into the hallway beyond. “There goes our profit margin,” Glenn jokes, opening another bottle. As he speaks, he gestures with it. “Why don’t you go grab that bottle? I should’ve known better than to toss it to you.” He slugs down half his new bottle in one gulp, easily. Ben’s tone is serious. “I think you should ease up on that stuff,” he says, making his way toward the metal gate. “You don’t know what’s in it.” “It’s a sports drink.” Glenn waves him off. “It’s just sugar water.” He attempts another set of pull-ups as Ben squats down to go under the door. He’s got a little over two-feet of clearance but he’s reluctant to press his chest to the floor, all that dust and dirt he’d been able to ignore before, when the mystery had captivated him. Now there’s less enthusiasm to follow the rules -- like the game OPERATION, where you shouldn’t touch the sides… Ben’s shoulder whaps the bottom of the metal grate as he rises in the hallway. There is a grinding, loud, metallic shriek and the grate slams solidly onto the cement floor. “Oh, shit,” Ben mumbles. He hears Glenn from inside, slightly muffled. “What happened?” “I must’ve jostled it with my shoulder,” Ben says to the door, speaking a little more loudly than usual, to be heard through the closed door. “That’s why I didn’t make the Limbo Team.” No laugh. Damn. “Okay, let’s heft it back up again!” Ben grabs the handles on his side -- and he can hear Glenn trying to pull the chain on his -- but the door doesn’t budge. “Fuck -- AGAIN!” They try -- even though Ben worries about his back, he throws himself into it -- and fails. The door stays closed. “Fuck,” Ben chants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Well, let’s try one of the other doors,” Glenn suggests from inside. “You have the keys, right?” Ben reaches down to his pockets -- empty? Where…? Oh, shit! He’d taken the keys out of his pocket and put them on the bench -- inside the unit! “Oh, shit!” “What?” “They’re in there!” Ben shouted, slapping the metal door. “They’re in THERE! I took them out of my pocket when I was fumbling with all the camera equipment! They’re on the bench.” He doesn’t hear Glenn’s sighing exhale, but he’s certain that’s what’s happening -- his brother is collecting his wits -- it’s what he always does when he’s angry. “Okay,” Glenn says through the grate. “Is the crowbar in the truck?” “I don’t know,” Ben answers. “I’ll have to check. I don’t think so. I think we took it out when we were emptying from that last job.” “It’s okay,” Glenn says. “We’re gonna need the Pallet Jack anyway. Okay, you head to the Workshop and get the crowbar, the Pallet Jack, any kind of hack saw we might have if we gotta cut those chains…” “Glenn, the Workshop is almost a hundred miles away!” “Well, we don’t have much choice -- unless you’re strong enough to tear through these metal grates with your bare hands, we’re gonna need tools. And the tools are in the Workshop…” “Which is a hundred miles away!” Glenn laughs. “Well, I’m not going anywhere! So you might as well get to it… unless you don’t have the truck keys?” “They’re in the truck.” He can hear Glenn sigh. “You just leave keys everywhere…” Ben doesn’t laugh. “You’re hysterical,” he says. “Look, Glenn, I feel bad enough…” “It’s not a big deal,” his brother says through the metal grate. “It’s just a couple hours. I have plenty to do -- I have games on my phone and shit -- don’t worry. Hey, I can always work out and watch vintage porn, right?” That his brother, trapped because of Ben’s own foolishness, would work so hard to make jokes shows Ben how much Glenn cares. Ben can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I guess,” he says. “I’m sorry, Glenn.” “It’s just gonna be a couple hours -- and we’ll get a good story out of it. Don’t worry, Ben, it’s all good. Now go get the tools -- I’m done talking through a garage door. Frankly, I feel like working out.” “Don’t drink any more of that shit!” “Too late!” For some reason, as much as anything else, that lights a fire in Ben’s pants. He can’t shake his uneasy feeling about that stupid sports drink -- he’s sure he’s heard of it before. On the floor against the far wall sits the bottle he’d come out here for -- without much consideration, he picks it up off the floor and puts it in the side pocket of his cargo shorts (where the keys had been). Ben hurries down the stairs and exits the building -- this time smart enough to block the door with a cinderblock, so it won’t lock by accident behind him. The keys are in the truck -- thank God for small favors! -- but the crowbar is not. There’s not a helpful tool in the bed. (They’d taken the toolbox out to create room for all the loot they were gonna haul from this Buy-It score!) Just one stupid thing after the next -- and here they are now, Glenn locked in a unit with vintage porn! So it would be REALLY stupid if something happened to me now, Ben thinks, driving a little too old-lady like. But it’s better than getting pulled over, or having an accident, or any of the other myriad horror stories he imagines happening as he drives the nearly hundred miles to their Workshop while his brother is trapped. “I just got here!” he texts when he arrives at the Workshop, nearly two hours later -- the text isn’t delivered. He tries to shrug it off, shutting the door of the truck -- the one shrink-wrapped with their Buy-It Brothers logo -- and enters their warehouse (their “Workshop”) -- the one sporting that same logo over cartoon-versions of he and Glenn. (Ben thought they looked a little too much like Laurel and Hardy, but no one knew that reference anymore.) With haste, he gathers the things he’ll need, the crowbar, the hacksaw -- he has to locate the Pallet Jack. He’s wasting so much time on it, he considers leaving it behind. Fortunately, just as he’s thinking that, he trips over it. (It’s mostly hidden beneath a hastily discarded tarp.) It takes some little effort to lift it up into the bed of the truck -- lifting stuff is more his brother’s kind of thing -- but he finally does it, breathing heavily as he rolls the jack deeper into the bed near the cab and straps it in. He’s sweating a little -- and thirsty. Without realizing it, his hand touches the bottle still stashed in his pocket. The CYCLE ONE. He can’t resist. Though he knows his priority is getting back and rescuing his brother, Ben takes a moment to fire up his desktop and do some internet snooping, to satisfy his curiosity (or his paranoia). Cycle One -- there it is -- a sports drink that was all the rage twenty years ago. Internet rumors claim it was the real deal, adding insane amounts of masculine muscle and power, but there were side effects: dangerously increased libido, loss of sexual inhibition, loss of individuality. Crazy internet bullshit -- still, there are dozens of flexing testimonials, young men eager to show off their “transformations.” All of them looking a tiny bit… zealous, perhaps? Another article links Cycle One to a Justice Club Super-Villain, a hyper-muscled bodybuilder by the punny name of King Rex. The pic that accompanies this article shows an impossibly muscled man with a beard transforming a kneeling Superion, the Earth’s most powerful superhero, and turning him into Rex’s worshipful gay slave. The article claims the “secret ingredient” in Cycle One is King Rex’s magical ejaculate. A deeper dive: coincidently, upon the disappearance of this King Rex into the Multiverse, supplies of Cycle One became limited overnight -- and precious. Several would-be cults formed around the protection -- and distribution -- of this suddenly valuable resource. People went to great lengths to horde the stuff -- vaults, fallout shelters, armed-guards at storage units… Ben surfaces from his rabbit hole with the realization of what he and his brother have stumbled upon. In this instance, knowledge hasn’t seemed to give him any power at all -- other than to realize there’s danger, which he’s already suspected. Thanks, knowledge. Hurriedly, Ben gets back to the truck -- leaving the bottle of Cycle One on his desk -- realizing he’s wasted almost twenty minutes online, and heads the ninety-some-odd miles back to the storage units. He wants to floor it and speed the entire way, but he fears getting pulled over, or getting in an accident, or any of the other myriad nightmares that would end with his brother being forever trapped. “Almost there,” he texts at a red light -- the text isn’t delivered. Damn cinder-blocks -- they give little hope. He leaves the main road for the access road, the access road for the side road, the side road for the private drive, until finally, the abandoned ETERNAL STORAGE building comes into view, across the cracked and weed-filled parking lot. Apparently, this is all to be torn down to create an Amazon Warehouse. The Amazons replace the Eternals -- sounds like a bad superhero movie -- Ben can’t help but chuckle, despite the situation. A nerd at heart. He parks next to the door he’d left jammed open with the cinderblock and hurries back inside, grabbing the crowbar out of the truck bed on his way. He bounds up the stairs to the second floor -- as fast as his skinny, awkward body can “bound” anyway -- less like a gazelle and more like a clumsy giraffe with a few extra knees -- and lopes down the hall to their lot. It’s been just a little over five-and-a-half hours, and his brother wasn’t in immediate danger -- (he certainly wasn’t gonna go thirsty) -- still, Ben is worried. From halfway down the hall he can hear it. Right up next to the stuck door it’s impossible to miss: clanging weights, grunts and groans -- his brother is working out! “Glenn?” he calls, slapping the metal door. “Glenn, you OK?” “Ben?” he hears, then the thud of a barbell being dropped. The voice is closer to the door. “You’re back already? I still gotta do deadlifts.” “You’re hysterical,” Ben says, smiling with relief -- his brother isn’t dead. “Are you OK?” He can hear Glenn’s laughter. “WAY better than OK. Bro, this stuff is AMAZING, this CYCLE ONE shit! We’ve struck gold!” “Glenn…” “A buck a bottle? Fuck that. A THOUSAND bucks a bottle! For this…? Hell yeah, they’ll pay it.” “Glenn, I’ve been doing some research on it, the Cycle One, and…” “I don’t care what the Internet says right now, Bro! Let’s just get this fucking door open.” “Um… Okay, I have the crowbar!” “Great! Let’s see if you can get the bottom up a little bit.” Ben jams the crowbar beneath the door -- he’s expecting resistance, but the flat end of the bar simply slides under. Lifting the curled end, Ben slides a piece of broken cinder block beneath to act as a fulcrum. When he attempts to raise the door, the metal dents, lifting a small section up about an inch. When Ben removes the crowbar, he sees his brother stick his fat fingers through the opening from the other side. “I’m almost free!” Glenn says and laughs. Then, he says, “Hey!” like he’s had an idea. “Make another one of those dents about two feet to your left. I got an idea!” Ben shrugs -- “Okay…” -- and slides to his left. Again, the crowbar easily goes under the metal lip. Ben uses the same piece of cinder block and creates another hand-sized dent in the base of the sliding door -- the screech of the metal is almost uncomfortable. Glenn is saying, “Perfect… perfect,” from the other side of the door. “Okay, let’s give it a try!” “What?” “Let’s try to lift it! Grab the handle out there!” “Glenn, we can’t lift this…” “I told you -- I’m fresh! I haven’t done deadlifts, yet.” Bending over rather than squatting, Ben grabs the handle in the center of the roll-up metal door. He’s indulging his brother -- there’s no way they’re moving this door -- so he doesn’t give it his all. So he’s surprised when, on his brother’s count of “Three!” the door actually jerks up a foot or so -- Ben nearly loses his balance. “That’s better,” says Ben’s brother. “I can get a better grip on it now. Hold on a sec…” Ben can hear the sounds of drinking from inside and the clink clunk of an empty plastic bottle as it’s casually tossed away. He burps. “Okay,” he says, again gripping the base of the metal -- Ben can see his sneakers beneath the door. “Let’s do this. Grab on!” Ben grabs the door handle a little more seriously this time, squatting opposite his brother. “One. Two… THREE!” They both throw energy into the movement, but the door doesn’t budge. “No!” Glenn yells. “AGAIN!” A little -- it moves a little -- but nothing that’s gonna rescue anybody anytime soon. “Fuck this… FUCK THIS!” Glenn yells, then Ben can hear him mumble. “Just need a little more. Just a little more…” Again, the sound of drinking, the empty clunk of a thrown bottle. “Fuck this. Let’s get this fucking thing!” They both heave. It moves… slightly! “MORE!” And they both strain. Then, unexpectedly and suddenly enough to surprise Ben, the door doesn’t slide up so much as it gives in to the pressure and folds, shrieking a metallic screech like a tin can collapsing. The force throws Ben off balance and he trips over the crowbar, slamming into the cinderblock wall on the opposite side of the hall. So hard, it knocks the wind from him -- and from the way his head slams back into the brick, he knows he’s about to lose consciousness, too. The image he’s left with: his brother. His brother! Not the teddy-bear, snowman-shaped sibling he’s known for forty years -- not unless his brother is the Hulk and Ben has never figured it out. Standing there in the doorway, arms over his head pushing the door up further, Glenn is massive -- his muscles are impossible! Thick and heavy, but not ripped and “cut” like a bodybuilder in competition. Glenn’s lines are curvaceous, not tight, his flabby tummy has become a “roid-gut”, big, curved lines, round muscle bellies, bloated and swollen -- he wears electric blue posing trunks and a spandex half-shirt that doesn’t reach the bottom of his bulbous pecs, exposing his thick nipples. His biceps are easily as big as his head, maybe bigger while flexed like this -- Glenn’s breathless in his joy, in his win, in his show of power. Look at the size of him! Ben can see his brother is fighting a hard-on in the tiny, shiny posers he barely wears as he flexes his triumph at ripping the door from its track -- he’s so masculine, but what he wears is so… flowery. Feminine. He flexes a most-muscular, popping his traps and his pecs -- just like the Hulk used to on the old TV show when they were kids, fantasizing about being so big. And then -- helplessly -- Ben finally passes out, lost in confusion and darkness. Only certain that he’s too late. ********************************************************************************* Chock! That’s the sound he wakes to, the heavy stone stacking of brick. Chock! Or cinderblocks… Ben opens his eyes tentatively, taking a moment to process where he is. Although he’s leaning against the wall, there are pallets of CYCLE ONE all around him -- he must be in Unit Three! Why…? Chock! What the fuck is that? As he stirs, rising to investigate, he discovers there’s a chain wrapped several times around his ankle -- padlocked on! -- connecting him to the pallet. He screams. “Glenn! GLENN!” “Oh, you’re awake,” he hears from somewhere across the unit, out of sight. “And here I was trying to be quiet…” Chock! “What the fuck is going on?” Glenn laughs. “Good tv.” “What? Glenn, I’m chained to this pallet.” “Yeah, I know -- calm down. Freakin’ out is not gonna help you, bro. It’ll be easier if you think of it as an Escape Room -- the intent IS for you to get out, after all.” Chock! “I don’t understand.” There’s a heavy sigh. “Can you stand up, at least?” his brother asks. “So we can talk face to face.” Ben stands, the chain uncomfortably tight around his ankle, his headache pounding. The pallets are just under six feet high (stacked with cases of Cycle One -- perhaps the last cases of Cycle One), and Ben can see over the top. Not that that lessens the horror. His brother -- his massively muscled brother -- Ben still can’t adjust to the change -- is resealing the hole in the cinderblock wall between units two and three, using the broken pieces from before. He spreads a sloppy layer of cement with his bare hands and then drops a cinderblock into it. Chock! He’s rebuilt the wall only a little higher than his chest, so Ben can still see Glenn’s pecs, traps and shoulders -- and of course, his arms. (He’s so big -- it’s just not possible.) “What are you doing?” Ben asks, barely keeping the fear from his voice. “Okay, again -- calm down,” Glenn said patronizingly, spreading cement. “Freaking out will just waste your time. It’s easy to get out of here -- I’m even gonna tell you how.” Chock! “Glenn, what the fuck…?” Glenn reaches through the opening with his muscular arm -- he’s holding a flashlight and a set of keys (he’s getting cement on them from his fingers). He drops them on the floor, well on the other side of the room. “These are the keys to your chains,” he says, pulling his arm back and peeking through the gap. “And my torch, which is a literary allusion -- forget it. Anyway, I figure after drinking a dozen bottles or so, you’ll be big enough to drag that pallet over here and get these keys.” “WHAT?!?” “I told ya, it’s good tv.” Chock! “See, Ben,” Glenn says as he continues re-building the wall, “I knew you wouldn’t drink it voluntarily. No doubt you ran home and researched it and found all the reasons NOT to drink it -- that’s so like you -- but I say when you come across a magic muscle potion, you drink it! That’s the difference between you and me.” Chock! “Would you please stop doing that?” Glenn doesn’t stop -- he continues. “But then I thought, what if he’s his normal smart-ass self? What if he just tears through the heavy plastic and empties the pallet? That’d make it pretty easy to drag across the room, right? So I decided to create another little obstacle for you. Even if you cheat on the pallet (and personally, I don’t think you’re strong enough to tear through the industrial plastic), you still gotta get through this wall. But I figure, after you drink a case, you’ll do it with ease. Look what I did to that fuckin’ roll-up door!” He laughs. “It’s so fucking awesome, Bro!” “Glenn… please…” Chock! “I considered simply force-feeding you, but that’s kind of an overused trope, isn’t it? This way makes more compelling drama. Did you see the camera over by the sliding door?” Ben looks to his left and sees the camera on its tripod atop a pallet of CYCLE ONE, aimed at him, filming his dilemma. Good TV... “I filmed my own transformation,” Glenn adds. “Well, not so solid at the beginning, but I have a cum-shot at the end that’ll blow you out of the water! And my Scanty Fashion Show will get us a ton of views!” “What?” “Trust me, Ben -- this stuff enhances EVERYTHING!” “Glenn, please don’t do this.” “You’ll thank me, bro. That I know -- you just need the right motivation. String bean like you… it’s what you’ve always dreamed of. Big muscles. Feels good. No work. Right up your alley.” Chock! The wall is almost complete -- just a small gap at the top. Enough to maybe get a grip on… Ben pulls on the chain -- he’s securely in place. This is all a little too melodramatic for him. Would his brother actually abandon him here and let him die? What the fuck? “For the love of God, Glenn!” he shouts as the last cinderblock wedges into place. “Stop!” “Get drinking,” he hears his brother say, his voice muffled. “You can be out in an hour! I’ll be over here working out and modeling posers -- haha!” “Glenn! GLENN!” But Glenn doesn’t answer. All Ben hears is the sounds of gay porn -- vintage gay porn -- the moaning and the raw need permeating the cement wall. Beyond that, the clang of weights in the first unit -- Glenn is at it again. Ben screams out of frustration more than anything else, knowing no one can hear him -- they’re in the middle of nowhere. He’s trapped -- TRAPPED! And completely at the mercy of his brother’s dark sense of 19th century drama. He sits against the wall in a fetal position, crying. Why does this have to be such a difficult choice? At the heart, Glenn is right -- he hates being skinny -- he hates being String Bean. Muscle Zombies searching for hidden stashes of Cycle One… Transformations. He still seems like the same Glenn. (Except maybe the chaining his brother around the ankle part…) Just a fuck-ton bigger -- more masculine. Sexier. He holds the bottle in his hand -- firm, hard plastic -- unemotional, cold. What if you held a magic muscle-growth potion in your hands? Would you drink it? Knowing what it would do? (He hears his brother’s obsessive training.) Knowing what it would change? (He hears the vintage porn.) He looks at the camera and flies it the bird. Fuck you, good TV. Finally, long minutes later, the sound of him cracking the bottle echoes around Unit Three.

Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad October 21st, 2022 2200 Hours Twenty minutes later, Casey stood in the center of the main Valhalla laboratory, stripped down to a tight shiny black micro posing suit, bulging dangerously in the pouch, and threatening to burst. His muscles glowed. He was huge, enormous, the biggest he had been yet in his young life. Lightly oiled, his youthful brown skin gleamed in the clear white LED light. Dr. Zaftig stood at his side, beaming with calm inner pride. But Casey was nervous. There he was, stripped down to bulging posers that barely covered his manhood, and ready for review. For the first time. And as always, in some place deep inside him, he was embarrassed by his hugely oversized penis. It was just too big. One by one, the 18 bodybuilders filed in silently from their post-White Cap-workout showers in the next wing, looking over the gigantic new recruit with studied casualness. For almost two years they’d grimly listened to Dr. Irving’s deliberately passive-aggressive progress reports. Casey was this, Casey had that, Casey lifted this much, Casey was however-big, Casey was the hope of the future. Etc. They were weary of it. They were angered by it. And some were threatened by it. And perhaps, just a little fearful? No: not fearful. Challenged. And in the case of Hension, Blankenship, Lang, Meyer and Waring, more inspired than anything else. “If he’s that big, I wanna be bigger,” said Hension one afternoon at lunch, to no one in particular. Chad smacked him on the back of his head, and with a short grunt, Hension came a little in his jock. “Sorry. I forgot you liked that.” “I’d like it more if you were a girl.” Hension had long since given up hiding his particular fetish. He took a big mouthful of beef and chewed, ruminating. “You wanna fuck pussy? Abdul can arrange.” From across the table, Abdul grunted and shook his head. “He don’t want pussy.” “Naw. He’s right. I don’t. Hot pussy don’t dig muscles like mine. I just wanna chick who knows how to slap my face right. Good and hard each time. Back and forth. Pow, pow. Leave hand prints. Then I wanna fuck boybutt pussy. And suck some big dick.” Hension looked at Abdul. “Yours, maybe.” Abdul nodded slightly. “Sure, you suck dick good. Any time.” He sipped his coffee. All chuckled a little, but everyone was still thinking about Casey. Over the last few weeks, a few had gone so far as to belly up secretly to the cadet gym two-way windows late at night to watch and study Casey’s lonely training late night training sessions. There the giant teen was, alone night after night in the vast half lit gym, fully clothed, muscles bulging in the yards of a completely enveloping, dripping cotton sweatsuit, insanely going through punishing reps, hurling buckets of sweat, drawing blood, banging out steaming iron reps with teeth-clenching screaming pain, grimly determined, all the while screaming and moaning to himself: Gotta get bigger Gotta get bigger Gotta get bigger….. And on it went. Night after night. The boy was insatiable, indefatigable. As if nothing could ever stop him. And now, the time had finally come. Casey watched them file into the lab. Outfitted in crisp, clean tan khakis and wearing skin tight Army regulation green t-shirts, hair still wet from their post-workout showers, they were an intimidating herd of hardcore beefmeisters. Huge, cut, and vascular to a man, their massive physiques almost aching with heavy, rippling muscle. Casey had been watching them for months, grabbing glimpses of them on campus, running, bicycling, practicing their posing, whenever he could, just as he knew they had been watching him as well in the corridors and working out in the cadet gym. He even knew a few of them by name. Private Lang and Corporal Alvarez, who were always together, Private Gunst, Private Waring, Private Jin. He had never spoken to any of them, out of shyness and awe. And he even recognized Corporal Obatu from Raw Weight Gym. He nodded bashfully to him. Obatu grinned hugely and waved with his huge paw of a hand. “Hello, Casey,” he said in his best Isaac Hayes. “Hi!” Casey said eagerly, but caught the glance from Zaftig. He resumed his blank expression, readjusted, and gazed ahead, eyes high. He squared his shoulders and stood with his pecs pointed high in full 'bodybuilder rest' pose. Of course Casey knew nothing of the cum-blasting shower orgy from which the men had just emerged. And to a man, rather feeling drained, all were primed and ready....for whatever came next. A few had their hopes, but discipline would prevail. Tonight was presentation. Only. Or so they thought. The men looked him over. “Hmmmm,” muttered Schumacher. “Damn he’s got big nipples!” someone whispered. There was the sound of that someone being smacked. In the second row of bodybuilders, an astonishingly handsome young bodybuilder stumbled and grabbed the back of the head. “Hey!” said Hension, indignant. “Shut up,” said Chad. Casey was excited. These men were seriously huge, each and every one far even bigger than Miles Donovan. Though he was almost sure he was prepared for them, even so – man alive! This was a lotta muscle. He gulped with nervousness. Sergeant Moster entered last. Casey stared, suddenly stricken. He’d never seen Moster before. Even in his clean white loose-fit baggies, he was the biggest muscleman Casey had ever seen in his life. It seemed to him he towered over the others, though truth to tell, if he’d been calmer he’d have noticed that at least 3 of the men were close to him in size and muscularity. Close. But not the equal. Not yet. “This is Staff Sergeant Rod Moster,” said Dr. Zaftig. Behind Moster, Dr. Irving scurried into the room, struggling noisily with his omnipresent video camera, lights, and clipboards. “Sergeant Moster will be supervising your training in the future.” “Yes, sir!” Casey had never been prouder. He stood straight and tall. Moster strolled over to Casey. “So this is Cadet Rockland,” he said slowly, appraising him up and down. He seemed to take over from Zaftig, who stepped back, offering no protest. Here, Moster was in charge. Moster circled Casey. He looked impressed, in spite of himself. Finally he had to give in. He turned to Zaftig. A moment passed. “He’s got great bones,” he said quietly. “Yes, great bones,” said Zaftig. “Bones like that come along once every three generations.” “He could go the limit.” “Maybe. Can’t tell yet.” What’s all this about bones? Casey wondered. He gathered it was something good, though, even great, so he stood erect, proud and tall. He fixed his clear blue eyes on the wall straight ahead and stood at attention. To a man, the 18 glanced down at the boy’s pendulously swaying posing suit pouch. The soft, thick bulge lay slack than halfway down against his right quad. Lang licked his lips. Next to him, Blankenship dug his elbow into Lang's abs, nodded, smiled, and winked. He pointed to his own mouth and with his fist simulated taking in a big organ. Moster barked out a few terse questions. “How old are you, Casey?” “18.” “What was that?” “18.” He corrected himself, and barked, “I’m 18, sir!” “That’s much better.” Moster smiled, amused. “And how much do you weigh, cadet?” “310 pounds, sir.” “Hmm. Really. Good. Good for you, son.” Casey readjusted and stood a little taller when he heard the huge black man say "son." Now the 18 were murmuring and looking him over with critical sharpness. Looking for weaknesses, looking for a lack of symmetry, looking for a spot of subcutaneous fat. And no weaknesses were to be found. One short young ginger muscleman whose name he didn’t know was smiling at him sardonically. He was uncommonly good-looking, as were they all, but something about him looked mean. He whispered to a grizzled older bodybuilder next to him, who was bigger and even meaner looking than he was. The older guy scowled. He was perhaps 40, bald, with rough deeply tanned skin, a day old beard, and a chest coating of iron-grey hair. Casey couldn’t help but notice the heavily looming bulges in the crotches of their khakis. As he tried not to stare, the pretty one who had gotten his head smacked reached down the front of his pants for some adjustment. Moster followed his gaze and smiled a little. Zaftig, as always, was clueless. "Tell him to turn around." "Casey, let the men see your back." Casey turned full around, facing the rear of the lab. He readjusted. He couldn't see the men's faces. But he could hear them. A few moaned quietly. "Jesu Christe, check out dem glutes..." Two round, rock hard butt cheek globes, glinting with light filled the room. No one could look elsewhere. Meyer, the deaf mute, stared, his mouth slightly open. He turned and nodded vigorously to Abdul, toweing over him, pulling at his belt. "Yeah, I see them," said Abdul, careful to face Meyer so he could read his lips. "Them. Er. Him. I see him." "For the record," said Zaftig airily, "Dr. Irving and I think Casey's traps and rear delts may be his best bodyparts." "Yeah, they'll do," said Alvarez. His hand went down to the front of his pants absently. His bulge was beginning to get a little bigger. "Now that's a bubble butt," said Obatu. "Sweet, sweet cupcakes. Cupcakes for a man to enjoy...." Casey was coloring deeply, glad the men couldn't see his face. "Lat spread, Casey," said Zaftig. Casey complied. Bat wings spread wide, fists plunged into his sides. His spread his legs slightly for the full effect. "And now, rear double biceps." Cannonballs shot to the ceiling. The glutes hardened slightly, veins popping, striations shining like rivers of platinum. "All right, then, turn back. Sergeant?" "Yes." Moster walked to a lab table and picked up a thick 4-foot iron bar. He tossed it at Casey, who caught it handily with one hand. It weighed about 75 pounds. “See what you can do with that, son.” Casey paused. “Sir?” “I’m not going to say it twice.” Casey nodded. He imagined the sergeant wanted him to bend the bar. He wanted to impress him, so he raised the bar high over his head, and easily bent it into a U shape. He brought the bar down and inspected it a moment, and then walked respectfully over to Sergeant Moster and handed it to him eagerly. Moster took it. “Okay, fair, fair,” he said, nodding and showing the bent bar to the group. Some of the men began to nod and chuckle. Casey returned to his spot and resumed his muscle-ready stance. Moster took the bar in his powerful hands, and bent it back to something like its original shape. He grinned, his big white teeth shining. Then he threw the bar into the air, caught it, and with a single movement powerfully snapped it in two. Casey’s jaw dropped. “Damn,” he said. “Dr. Irving, let’s hear the man’s measurements.” “We haven’t taken his measurements for a month, Sergeant.” Moster glanced down over Zaftig, his deep voice resonating. “You present a new cadet to the team, and you don’t have his recent measurements? Zaftig, you’re getting sloppy.” “I thought perhaps you might want to record the cadet’s measurements for yourself, Sergeant,” Zaftig said slyly. He wasn’t intimidated. Moster looked at Zaftig expressionlessly, then called back over his shoulder. “Private Tiffany, step forward and take the man’s measurements.” The short ginger bodybuilder stepped forward cockily. He looked younger than Casey, though Casey guessed he was really just his age. His wavy red-black hair fell in a forelock over his forehead. He had freckles. His skin was butterscotch tan, his eyes a deep, rich blue. And, like the others, he was hugely muscular, packing well over 220 pounds on his 5’6” frame. Casey noted the perfect round shape of his strong young baseball biceps, rife with rivulets of veins, and the piston-thick forearms. His heavy shoulders bulged with packed muscle. He could have moved pianos with one hand. He was bow-legged, his quads swaying gently outward as he walked. In his fly, his package appeared to be nearly as big as Casey knew his own to be, but on such a short guy it appeared twice as big. He looked as if he had to walk around his dick with each step he took. And he looked vaguely familiar. “This is Private 1st Class Joe Tiffany. I see you’re wondering about his age. Private Tiffany, get the tape measure and the clipboard from Dr. Irving. Tiffany here is 19 years old. He started with The Protocol when he was 15. I’m sure you two will be great buddies.” Casey didn’t know what to make of this. He decided that even with the kid’s big muscles, thick package and all, he didn’t want to be buddies with him. “Okay,” he said. “Hello.” Tiffany stepped forward, extending a hand as if to shake and, as Casey leaned in, walked past him, instead taking the tape measure and clipboard from Dr. Irving. Turning back, he graciously handed just the clipboard to Moster, and strolled confidently over to Casey. He looked up slyly at the baffled, tall young musclemen towering over him. “Hi, Casey,” he introduced himself breezily. “I’m Joe Tiffany. You’re very lookin’ good, man. Like the buzz cut.” Casey gazed down at Tiffany, perplexed, who grinned back at him serenely, displaying two rows of perfect white teeth. He was smart and smooth, and he grinned easily. He made Casey nervous, all the more so when, for a flash of an instant, he detected a wicked twinkle deep in Joe’s eyes. Joe winked at him. Then he wiped his face clean and looked back at Moster, all innocence. “Sir, I need some help, sir.” Moster snorted impatiently. “Corporal Schumacher, get Tiffany something he can stand on.” From the line the older guy Tiffany had been whispering to strode to the desk area and returned with a metal stool. He tossed it in the air to Tiffany, who caught it easily. While never very bright, Casey was all the same possessed of unquestionably fine animal instincts. He knew trouble when he saw it. He glanced up and down the older man Moster had addressed as Schumacher. His muscle density was impressive. His arms were thick, ripped and veiny. Two iron cross tattoos graced each forearm. His skin was calloused and rough, and his hands were huge, with bruised, knotty knuckles. He was now leaning in to Tiffany, so close to him his heavy pecs were almost touching his face. Casey could see the outlines of two heavy brown nipples in his tight Army regulation green t-shirt. Schumacher shot a dirty look up at him, and pushed his pecs into Tiffany’s’ face. “I told you before I want to see you my room. Later.” He spoke in a low tone. The muscleboy stepped back indifferently and spoke with offhand innocence. “Hey, it’s late, dude. I don’t think so tonight.” He pulled out the tape and turned to Casey. Schumacher glanced briefly up at the muscleman towering over them both and sneered a little, but Casey could spot the dash of respect in his eyes. He turned back to Tiffany. “I mean it, punk. In my room. Later.” “Leave me alone, old man. I have work to do with the young dude.” He stepped on the stool without looking again at Schumacher and stood before Casey, holding the tape measure and smiling sweetly. His words stung. Schumacher looked up at Casey and silently mouthed the words H-A-N-D-S O-F-F Casey returned the look dumbly. “Later,” Corporal Schumacher snarled to Tiffany. Moster looked up. “You have a problem, Corporal?” Schumacher turned and strode away. In the corner of the lab, Dr. Irving was recording every moment on his ever-present video cam. Standing on the stool, Joe was now a little taller than Casey. He squatted down just a little, stuck his butt out behind him for support, and brought his eyes even to Casey. He looked him up and down and whispered in his ear. “Let’s see how big you really are, buddy,” he murmured. He brought his hand down and flicked his own crotch gently with his thumb, turning his broad back for cover. Only Casey could see him do it. He looked at him out of the side of his eyes, suddenly nervous about this big little bodybuilder, who clearly had more than his share of cojones, and his dangerous muscle daddy friend, who clearly had issues. “Whenever you’re ready, Private.” “I’m ready, sir.” “Good. Get to it. Right biceps.” Casey snapped his right arm to attention and flexed the biceps full. Tiffany let out a low whistle. “Bring it on home, baby. Nice peaks. Cannonballs, even. Swole. Nice.” “Yeah, yeah,” muttered Casey, flexing both biceps now, trying to be casual. “Get to it, Private,” repeated Moster. “Okay, measuring. Sir! I’m guessing 23 inches, sir!” Casey glanced contemptuously at him with one eyebrow cocked high. “Try that again,” he said levelly. Tiffany charmingly fumbled with the tape measure and double-checked. “I’m sorry, sir,” he reported. “26 inches, sir.” “That’s better.” Casey looked forward and tried to make his face serene. He was already getting pissed. What did this young asshole know? Moster made a note on his clipboard. Behind him, Schumacher was fuming. Casey imagined he could see smoke coming out of his ears. “Left arm.” Casey lowered his right and brought his left forward. Pow - Ka-boom.. .. Tiffany brushed the rocky peak with his fingertips. “No touching the goods,” Casey hissed. “26 inches, sir.” Tiffany was all smiles. “Chest.” “Let’s see, Superman, just how we’re going to do this. Turn to one side?” he inquired sweetly. Casey just looked at Tiffany. “Damn it, cadet, turn! Do as he asks.” Moster was getting impatient. Casey turned. “And expand your chest.” Casey’s giant pecs roiled and blew to their fullest size. Tiffany gently reached around Casey, and by tossing one end of the tape from one hand to the other, he coyly avoiding touching him with all but the tape and his lightly pinching fingers. “68 inches.” “Hmmm. There’s room for growth. Waistline.” Tiffany climbed down from the stool and brought the tape around Casey’s taut abs. Again he managed not to touch him. Even so, Casey felt a slight stirring from his crotch. “32 inches.” “32?? Dammit, Zaftig, what have you been feeding this boy? Chocolate cake? Twinkies?” I’m no boy, thought Casey. And I don’t eat Twinkies. His crotch twitched again. He glanced around the room and saw other crotches twitching as well. 6 or 7 of the men seemed to be sporting half erections, bulging in their khakis. No one said anything. All expressions were deadly serious. It was as if no one noticed, minded or cared that more than a half dozen of these musclemen were now sporting serious wood. “I’m sorry, Sergeant,” said Zaftig. “I haven’t felt it was the time, before tonight, to put Casey under your advanced care and guidance. He wasn’t quite ready, I felt.” “Assuredly. Casey, things are going to be a little different for you after tonight. Quads.” “33 inches, sir.” “Dayumn….” muttered Hension. Then the sound of the back of his head being smacked again. “Ouch!” In back, Karim Abdul watched stonily, not reacting. He, Moster, and Dr. Zaftig were the only men in the room whose flies remained unexpanded. Even Dr. Irving was by now showing a little bulge. “Room for improvement everywhere,” said Moster. He made a note on the clipboard. “Calves?” “28 inches.” “That’s good, anyway. Feet?” “I wear 18 DD shoes,” Casey answered. “Speak when spoken to, Cadet Casey. But thank you. Inseam.” Inseam? “For the uniform.” Oh. Tiffany crouched down and placed the tape just at Casey’s ankle, and brought it up. He paused. “With or without testicles, sir?” he asked. “Without.” Moster was impatient. Tiffany was getting on his nerves, but he wasn’t about to show it. “Sorry, big boy, but you got a couple of low-hangers there. Pardon my fingers?” In a swift move that startled Casey, Tiffany, ignoring Casey’s growing tumescence, gently cupped Casey’s balls in his hand, lifted them and delicately moved them out of the way. “Shucks, dude, they’re pretty heavy,” he smirked. Casey was thoroughly humiliated. He felt like knocking this punk's block off, realizing that if he did he’d probably kill him if he even tried. He said nothing. “42 inches.” “Good. Now Zaftig, leave us alone with Casey. We all want to get to know him better.” Zaftig glanced over at Dr. Irving, who had withdrawn to the far corner of the room to be as far away from Moster as possible. He nodded towards the door. Irving cleared his throat and buttoned his lab coat. Zaftig leaned in and whispered harshly to Moster. “No touching. Leave him be.” Moster nodded. "Sure, of course. We'll be nice." Zaftig and Irving left the lab together. In the corner, the video camera whirred, its red light blinking, unheeded. As soon as they were gone the other 16 men came forward. Slowly they circled Casey, Joe Tiffany, and Sergeant Moster. “That’s all, Private Tiffany. Get back in line.” Moster turned to Casey, paused, and began to speak with great deliberation. “I’m the man in charge here. Going forward, you’ll do what I say. These men have all been through it. It’s your turn now.” The bodybuilders gazed evenly at Casey, who stared back, his head slightly bowed. He had neither seen nor imagined such a landscape of muscle in his life. He was beginning to get intimidated. “The motherfucker’s huge,” murmured Private Lang appreciatively. “Yes, sir.” Casey forced a smile, and he saluted. Moster smiled back, a grim humorless smile. “It would seem that you want to please me. Is that the case, Casey?” “Yes, sir, I do, sir!” “Glad to hear it, son. You have a few more years of hardcore training ahead of you. You have great potential, boy, but you haven’t realized it all yet. Has he, men?” Mutters. We’ll get you down to the gym tomorrow and we’ll all shake it out together. Men, you’re done here tonight. Dismissed. Go to bed. Good night.” Moans of general disappointment. Schumacher and Karim Abdul remained silent. “That’s all men.” A pause. “You too, Tiffany.” “Not just yet,” said Abdul. Moster looked at him, his eyebrow raised. “Corporal?” Abdul turned full to Moster. “Not just yet. I want to see if he can take it.” Moster knew full well what he meant. “Take what, Corporal?” “Get him a singlet,” said Abdul to Lang, who eagerly turned and scampered out of the lab. “You know where to meet us,” he called after him, perhaps unnecessarily. The men could hear Lang’s running footsteps as he hightailed it gleefully down the long hall to the locker room. Moster sighed. “Do we have to go through this? Again?” He remembered that when Alvarez was admitted to the program, Abdul had demanded to meet him in the wrestling ring right off the bat. He looked around. All the men were smiling in anticipation. Casey was baffled. “A singlet? We gonna wrestle?” “Yes, son, we’re going to wrestle,” answered Abdul. “You wrestled before?” Casey remembered his brutal ring training with Ramon Ramon, who never failed to pin him, even though he was only half Casey’s size and weight. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Abdul turned to go, slipping out of his t-shirt. Casey could see he was wearing a singlet underneath, and was surprised he’d missed it before, considering how tight the t-shirts were. Karim was walking away, going for his belt, when he turned back. “You comin’?” Casey gulped a little. “Yes, sir.” The man who stood before him was fearsome indeed, a dark, mature Arab with blackened, hairy, super dry, super vascular, magnificent superheavyweight muscles. The thick black hair of his chest was like a matted carpet, tinged with grey and curling around the heavy, downward pointing nipples. His python-thick cock unfurled heavily in the singlet crotch, heavy, soft, half-visible behind thin, quivering spandex, pulsing, veined, thrust forward between powerful hips. His waist was impossibly narrow, his abs like 8 anvils, his pecs and biceps bulging with muscle and ridic veins. He spread his legs wide. “Hey, look,” breathed Blankenship, staring. Casey looked down, a little panicky, and saw his own massive cock was now tent-poling his posers. Reinforced or no, the 5 square inches of cloth that still managed to cover his big penis head were straining, the fabric ready to tear to shreds. His veiny blond shaft was completely exposed, pointing straight up and out. Curling thick tendrils of his young blond pubic sprouted generously from the juncture of his penis and his vascular, rocky pubis mound. He colored deeply, squatted slightly, tried in vain to readjust himself, his fingers digging deeply into the side straps, trying to control the pouch, which was nowhere near equal to covering Casey's looming erection. Suddenly Casey's penis head ripped through the black cloth, an alien bursting out of a stomach. Casey looked up, utterly distressed. “Don’t worry about it, Casey,” said Moster quietly. The men turned and looked back, and for the first time, got a glimpse of Casey’s humongous penis, half exposed, throbbing behind his expanding posers, which was tearing slightly, ballooning away from his hips. Blond, thick-skinned, massive, covered with luscious veins. “I’d call that a suckable fuck machine of the 1st order,” said Blankenship. He licked his lips a little. Casey looked humiliated. “I asked you a question,” said Abdul. “Are you coming?” And Casey came. “He seems to be,” said Alvarez drily. Just a little precum, appearing at the tip of the piss slit, dribbling down the corona onto his erect shaft. But it was enough. His face turned beet red. He looked up, his eyes hopeful. "Okay?" he finally asked. The men nodded in satisfaction. Abdul ignored it. “Then let’s go, asswipe.” He turned and walked out of the room, headed for the wrestling ring in the next wing. The musclemen followed, each one turning slowly and massively, heading for the door. “Let’s go, Casey,” said Moster wearily. He threw him a towel. “Here, cover up if you’re embarrassed.” “Thank you, sir,” said Casey meekly. “Though with a machine like that you should be proud, not embarrassed. Tiffany!” Moster called out. “Get Dr. Irving back in here and tell him to move that camera down to the wrestling ring.” He smiled grimly. “I have a feeling Abdul may be a little surprised.” __________________________________________ Want to read "The Twenty" from the start? Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland  "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets

Hola, esta es mi primer historia aquí; me inspiré en un video que vi en YouTube; así que si hay similitudes es por eso. También quisiera aportar algo a la comunidad en español que adoran los músculos y el muscle growth. Capítulo uno Un día viernes, finales de primavera e inicio de verano. Yo soy Henrry un científico que se dedica a desarrollar nuevas formas de crecimiento en seres vivos, aunque solo se pueda probar en plantas. Vivo en los suburbios con mi novio, Ben; él es un maestro de parvulario, le encanta cocinar y comer pastelillos, y sí, es obeso. Mi cuerpo es uno más saludable que el de él, soy más alto y soy el activo de la relación; él es un poco más bajo y más gordo que yo, pero aún así lo amo, es mi osito Teddie y el es muy tierno conmigo y todos los niños lo aman, lo conocen como el profesor Teddie o profesor osito, muy tierno la verdad. Ben siempre intenta hacerme feliz cocinando ricas comidas; aunque a veces suelen pasarse un poco de calorías; es por eso que el tiene "un poco" de sobrepeso, yo en cambio tengo un buen cuerpo, delgado y de 1.77, cuido mi dieta un poco más y como menos que él ya que no tendría el corazón para despreciar su comida. En serio lo amo; pero hay algo que me hace querer cambiar; él se estaba poniendo un poco más obeso, lo cuál era normal con su dieta; pero vi un video sobre un muchacho que se veía como Ben y terminó viéndose como una morsa gracias a que nunca cambió su dieta e incluso no podía levantarse de su cama, tenía miedo de que esto le pasara a mi osito, además veía cómo las parejas solían salir a ejercitarse y tenían cuerpos saludables, realmente quería que Ben y yo hiciéramos eso; además que se acercaba la reunión de ex alumnos de preparatoria y varios de mis ex novios y amigos estarán allí y aunque lo ame, muchas personas hablarán de su físico... Ese mismo día en la noche decidí preguntarle si podría dejar de poner demasiadas especias y hacer otra cosa diferente para comer. -Oye, amor. ¿Qué te parece si haces otra cosa que comer? Hemos comido mucho filete y ya estoy aburrido. -Eh? Pero ya casi está todo listo... *decía con su dulce voz* -Sí, pero no sé quiero probar algo diferente a lo que cocinas... -¿No te gusta mi comida? *preguntaba decepcionadamente* -Sí, me gusta pero no sé, quizá algo un poco más saludable, quizá. -Pues... Es que ya preparé todo y no sé qué hacer... -Agh, sabes qué? Vamos a comer (No podía decirle que no, es tan tierno y fue mi culpa por no haberle dicho antes; aunque en el fondo no me sentía a gusto ya que sólo hacía que comiera menos sano) -¡Está bien, a comer! Lo hice con mucho cariño para ti, como todas mis comidas la verdad, já. -Sí, jejé... Decidimos ir a ver televisión un rato, estábamos abrazados y justo pasaron un comercial sobre un gimnasio nuevo. -Oye, mira un gimnasio, ¿interesante, no? -Sí, si tú lo dices... -Vaya, mira sus cuerpos delgados y tonificados, es impresionante. -Hmmp... -Ah, y mira como se divierten usando las máquinas, ¡eso si que es una vida en movimiento! El comercial terminó y Ben me veía un poco descorcentado y decepcionado al mismo tiempo. -Oye, una pregunta... ¿Te gustan más ellos que yo? -Qué? N-no... Solo me parecía interesante. -Pero decías lo bien que se veían y yo pienso que quizás a ti no te gusta como soy... -No, para nada, solo me parecía interesante como eran capaces para moverse así y tener la energía para eso; tú eres perfecto así como estás, eres lo mejor que me ha pasado en la vida, así con tus muchos kilos...estás...bien... -En serio? G-gracias, te amo Henrry. Toma, te compré un pastelillo, es de mi pastelería favorita, fui a comer hoy allí. -Gracias... Así que fuiste allí otra vez, eh? -Sí, me encantan sus pasteles. -He de admitir que también a mi, pero me gustan muchos más los que haces tú. -Ah, sí. Toma, tu pastelillo que te hice esta tarde, olvidé que también te hice uno. -¡Gracias! La verdad no puedo resistirme a sus pastelillos, son tan deliciosos y siempre me recibe con uno y un regalo demás, en serio se nota que me ama, y aunque todos los días me coma un pastelillo, siempre bajo esas calorías cuando corro en las mañanas; hablando de correr; sí, he intentado que se una a mi pero no quiere ir, le da un poco de vergüenza ya que se cansaría más rápido que yo, y no puedo obligarlo... El siguiente día, un nuevo científico llega a la ciudad y se une a los laboratorios donde yo trabajo. Él era conocido por haber hecho investigaciones sobre los cambios del cuerpo humano y sus diferentes tipos, él tenía un cuerpo parecido al mío, solo que con 2cm menos de estatura. Me acerqué a él para saludarlo ya que su trabajo me parecía muy interesante. -Hola, Dr. Magnus, quiero decirle que amo su trabajo e investigaciones. -Hola, tú debes ser el Dr. Henrry, he oído mucho de ti, creo que tú trabajo será muy útil para lo que tengo en mente. -¡Vaya! Eso es genial, estaré dispuesto a lo que sea, con tal de trabajar con usted. -Me alegro mucho. Ven a mi laboratorio luego de la reunión de bienvenida por favor. -Ahí estaré. -Ah! Y por favor no le digas a nadie que te cité. Estaba emocionado, esto podría darme un gran reconocimiento. Me pregunto qué querrá hablar conmigo... Llegué lo más rápido que pude al nuevo laboratorio del Dr. Magnus, era un laboratorio enorme y tenía un gran tanque de agua, enorme en realidad, al parecer él lo había mandado a hacer; quizá haría experimentaciones con el agua y eso. -Ya estoy aquí Dr. -Muy bien, es hora de que hablemos de un proyecto que tengo en mente; pero primero que nada he de decir que he leído tu trabajo y me alegra que hayas tenido buenos resultados. -¡Sí, muchas gracias! Estuve trabajando como loco, aunque es una pena que solo funcione en plantas, esto beneficiará mucho al mundo, espero probar esto en otros seres vivos como peces u otros animales para saciar la producción de comida en el mundo. Para el que no sepa, mi trabajo fue sobre el crecimiento acelerado de plantas y su beneficio para la agricultura; fue exitoso y me parece genial que le haya gustado al Dr. Magnus. -Sí Henrry, espero que funcione en animales; pero ¿y en humanos? -Podría también, pero eso es arriesgarse mucho. -Pues para eso estoy yo, y es por eso que te he traído hasta acá para que trabajemos juntos en esto. -¿y qué es? -Pues verás, existen diferentes tipos de cuerpos humanos; pero ¿Qué tal si todos tuvieran un cuerpo delgado? Sería beneficioso para evitar los casos de diabetes, hipertensión, etc. -A qué se refiere? -Me refiero a que con tu método de aceleración de crecimiento, ¡podríamos acelerar la pérdida de peso en muchos seres humanos! -Vaya... Eso suena realmente bien. -¡Sí! Pero el problema es que no me dieron el permiso de llevarlo a cabo, ya que no les parece bien experimentar en humanos y blah blah blah. Por eso quiero que no le digas a nadie, ser nuestro secreto... -¡Pero eso sería ilegal y para nada ético!.. No lo sé. -A ver, tu experimento fue un éxito y yo he investigado mucho y me he preparado para esto durante toda mi vida; creo que seriamos capaces de llevarlo a cabo y ser exitosos. Además te pagaría muy bien, eh. -Mmm... -Vamos, ¿no quieres arriesgarte y salir victorioso? O prefieres estar conforme y no volver a tener otro éxito... Recuerda que yo pondré la cara por este experimento si algo sale mal, aunque lo dudo mucho; cómo dije me he leído y probado tus experimentos y he estudiado mucho, esto sería el experimento del siglo. -Yo... mmm... Acepto.... -¡Eso es! Me alegra que aceptaras, verás que no te decepcionaré. -Eso espero. Veía como el Dr. Magnus sonreía confiado, la verdad me hacía sentir un poco mejor, es decir, por algo es uno de los científicos más exitosos del siglo. Llegué a casa a las 2:00pm, Ben ya se encontraba dentro ya que hoy no trabajaba. -Hola... -¡Hola!... ¿Estás bien? Te noto algo triste. -No, solo estoy pensativo... Es algo de un experimento importante en los laboratorios y tengo que trabajar mucho. -Oh, bueno, espero que te vaya bien *Se dirijió y dio un beso a Henrry* Te compré algo, espero que te anime. *saca una camiseta para Henrry* Recuerdo que me dijiste que te gustó una camisa y te la compré. -¡Vaya! Gracias amor. *Le da un beso en la frente a Ben* eres el mejor... Eres tan tierno y dulce... -Gracias, jé... Me compré una yo también, aunque me queda algo apretada...y eso que es grande... -Que lindo, jé (Recuerdo que el Dr. Magnus dijo que este experimento volverá a las personas obesas delgadas y les quitara muchos problemas de encima, quisiera ayudar a Ben, en serio...) Oye, ¿tienes tiempo para salir esta noche? -Sip, ¿vamos a salir a comer? O ¿a dónde? -Te gustaría ir al laboratorio conmigo? Me gustaría que fueras, es algo importante... -¿Hay algo importante? Sí es así voy, no quiero decepcionarte... -No, no es demasiado importante, solo quiero que me ayudes con algo, eso es todo. -Pero yo no sé sobre ciencia y eso, no sé en qué podría ayudar... -No te preocupes, irás para ver algo impresionante que he preparado, será fantástico. -E-está bien, iré para ver, me pregunto que será, aunque seguro que es impresionante como todo lo demás que hace *Se dirije a darle un abrazo a Henrry* sabes que te apoyaré en todo. -Gracias, eres muy especial para mi, te amo... (no sé si deba, pero es por su bien) Me dirijí hacia mi habitación para llamar al Dr. Magnus. -Hola? Dr. Magnus creo que tengo al candidato indicado para este experimento. -En serio!? Genial! ¿Quién es? ¿Podrías enviarme una foto? -Es mi novio Ben, es un chico obeso y es perfecto para el experimento... (En serio iba a hacerle esto?) -Vaya, si que es lindo pero veo que lleva un camino hacia la obesidad mórbida, uyuyuy. -En serio!? Usted cree? -La verdad sí, pero no te preocupes, con este experimento todos sus problemas se acabarán y estarás feliz con tu novio, quien sabe quizá hasta sea favorable para cuando realizas relaciones sexuales con él. -La verdad, es un poco difícil tener relaciones sexuales con Ben, no lo puedo levantar al momento de penetración, no siquiera puedo probar muchas otras posiciones ya que suele cansarse rápido por su peso, y hay tanto que quisiera probar... -(Por qué me dice eso?) Sí, es una pena; ya verás que con esto tendrás relaciones como si estuvieras en una escena porno con el mejor pasivo del mundo, jé... -Sí, no puedo esperar y verlo más saludable y más lindo de lo que ya es. -Yo sé que no Henrry, así que te espero a ti y a tu compañero para el experimento. -Ahí estaré. Adiós. -(Agh, realmente espero que salga bien... Hablar de porno me calentó demasiado, pensando en como disfrutaré con mi nuevo Ben, pequeño y delgado, siendo un power botton total... Pero no es tiempo para dejarse ir, tengo que preparar las cosas) Llego el momento esperado, me llevé a Ben a los laboratorios, en su mirada podía ver lo intrigado que estaba, y lo inocente que era; lo que iba a hacer va a cambiar su vida por completo, pero seguro que le hará bien y puede que su autoestima mejore un poco. Entramos al laboratorio lo más rápido y naturalmente que pudimos, dejé a Henrry fuera de el para que esperara a que prepare el experimento. -Hola Dr. El candidato está afuera esperando, hay que preparar las cosas. -Estupendo, todo está saliendo cómo debería *decía mientras veía a Ben sentado afuera por medio de la ventana* Se ve que necesita tu ayuda, a simple vista puedo decir que tiene una baja autoestima y es muy tímido, esto le ayudará a sentirse mejor. -Sí, la verdad se siente un poco incómodo con su cuerpo; cuando iba a la universidad algunos chicos se burlaban de él y aunque no era nada grave lo hacían sentir mal... Pero usted como sabe que tiene una baja autoestima? -A parte de científico también soy Psicólogo y se mucho sobre las personas con solo ver su comportamiento. -Oh, tiene sentido... ¿Y qué hacemos primero? -¿Trajiste todas tus sustancias? -Sí, incluso las que no usaremos, já, como la de crecimiento muscular y testosterona, y la de crecimiento de estatura. *Dice mientras las muestra y las pone sin percatarse en el escritorio de el doctor* -Perfecto, dame las que aceleran el cambio corporal y las que ayudan a quemar grasa. -Tome *Da las sustancias pedidas a el doctor* (Vaya, si que quiero ir al bañó, debería haber ido hace rato) -Okey, primero vierto las que yo traje a este enorme tanque, y luego las tuyas. *Dice mientras vierte sus propias sustancias para acelerar el metabolismo y el maximizador vitaminico, que brinda las vitaminas necesarias al cuerpo humano* -Mmng.... Por favor.... Tengo que ir al baño, Agh. *Dice mientras da varios saltitos* -JAJA, bien ve. Yo estaré aquí. -Gracias. *Sale corriendo hacia el baño* -Muy bien, vamos a verter las sustancias del Dr. Henry y listo.... *Ay, olvidé conectar la manguera para llenar el tanque con agua, lo saldré para que pase por la ventana y llegue hasta acá. -Uff, ya estoy aquí Dr. Magnus... Hmm parece que salió... Oh, no ha vertido las demás sustancias aún *Dice mientras observa las sustancias que se encontraban en la mesa y sin saberlo puso ahí* muy bien, las verteré yo y nos ahorramos tiempo. *Vertió las sustancias completamente y tiró los tubos a la basura* Oh, parece que el profesor está intentando meter la manguera por la ventana, le iré a ayudar. -Gracias Henrry, solo llenamos el tanque y terminamos. -De nada, al parecer esto tardará un poco... -Sí, hay que distraernos mientras se llena, calculo que será media hora para que lo haga por completo... Y bien? ¿Qué le dijiste al paciente? -No le he dicho para que venía, le dije que quería que viera algo conmigo, no creo que le guste que le diga que vengo a cambiar su cuerpo, además le dije ayer que él era perfecto, soy un mal novio... -Bueno, esto lo haces por su bien, así que no pasa nada. Además, imagínate el buen sexo que tendrías si Ben fuer delgado como esos que salen en los videos porno, haciendo diferente pocisiones más atrevidas y ser más flexible para abrirse; también podrías cargarlo y darle todo lo que tienes ahí abajo... Oír esas palabras hacían que mi verga se pusiera muy dura, estoy seguro que después de esto iré a probar el nuevo cuerpo de Ben y sé que me encantará; verlo pequeño, delgado y sano me hace muy feliz. No tendría que preocuparse por su obesidad y sus camisas le quedarían bien. -S-sí, no puedo esperar para ver al Nuevo Ben, Dr. Magnus. -Yo tampoco; además esto hará que tenga más confianza en sí mismo y estoy seguro que eso te hará feliz. -Sí, el merece ser feliz, es muy tierno y amable pero eso hace que muchas personas quieran aprovecharse de él, pero yo lo protegeré de eso, después de todo es y será mi pequeño osito, solo que más delgado. -Oh, mira el tanque ya se llenó. Trae a el candidato por favor. -Voy *Se dirijió a traer a Ben* Oye Ben, ya está todo listo entra. Ben yacía dormido con sus brazos cruzados encima de su barriga que estaba a punto de desaparecer, aunque él no lo sabía. Y aquí termina el primer capítulo, para no hacerlo tan largo, el segundo capítulo saldrá pronto, esperenlo y lo siento si cometo muchos errores o si voy muy lento, no soy muy bueno escribiendo; pero espero que les haya gustado.

So my latest idea/story. Feed back appreciated, please leave a comment in this thread Thanks __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Max Powers in 2020 is 90 years old. Born in 1930 he has seen the tail end of the horse and carriage used as transportation, he’s seen a global war, he’s seen a man on the moon, he watched as the internet took over the world and revolutionized everything. Max powers is also the world’s wealthiest person with an estimated net worth of 800 billion dollars. He is a father, grandfather and great grandfather. Max has lived a life most people could only dream of. Too young to join the military for World War II, he then served ten years in The Marine Corps right out of high school, ten years as a Marine at the start of the cold war, from 1948 to 1958. Stationed initially in Europe, then transferred to Japan and Korea. Shortly after retiring from The Marines, he used the contacts he made to start a new company selling products to the Military. From basic supplies to communication equipment. That business quickly flourished and led to Max investing in the burgeoning telecommunications industry. From there Max invested in new companies looking to cash in on The Space Race, aviation and the medical field. By 1975, Max Powers had reached the top ten list for wealthiest people. By 1985 he was at the top of the list and had amassed a fortune twice that of the next person on the list. From there he only grew richer, more influential, and more powerful in the business world. Max had married a beautiful woman while he was in The Marines, a longtime acquaintance from high school. They bumped into each other while Max was back home on leave. Max was shocked to see the young girl he knew in high school looking much like Jayne Mansfield, only taller, Suzie was a statuesque 5’10” and complemented Max’s 6’2” very well when she was in heels. They had four children together, two boys and two girls. Max earned enough money even early on, that his family had everything. Houses around the world, cars, the kids had toys, his wife Suzie had dresses and jewelry. His family wanted for nothing. Except their father and husband himself. Max travelled often and was usually away from home for weeks at a time. Suzie often argued with Max about his time away and always asked him to stay longer, spend time with her and the kids. Max simply said to her “I have too much work, I’ll make it up to you, I promise”. Max would lavish his family with gifts from around the world. Send them on vacations to exotic locations. But rarely spent more than two or three months time a year with his family. The time he did spend with them was precious and he did the best he could to “make things up” to them. In the end though, his kids never really knew their father, only that his business and money were more important to him. The love of his life, Suzie was a very lonely wife and mother. Yet she and Max remained faithful to each other for the 55 years they were married. She couldn’t really complain, she had a life most people could only dream of, Max was a good husband and father when he was around. Just, rarely present with his family. Suzie died in 2010 at the age of 80, Max was at her side, he too feeling the ravages of time, meant that he was home more and spent time with Suzi before she died. Now 90 years old, bound to a wheelchair, Max is weak, frail, and despite his sharp mind and mouth. He’s on Death’s door, his failing health, failing body, the end of his life is near. He’s spent the last six months looking for a new Executive Assistant. Yes, Max still works, as CEO and Chairman of Powers Inc. He still maintains control of his company and oversees the day to day. His last assistant, Pamela, had been his assistant for the last 45 years, faithful to him to the last. She died of natural causes at the age of 85, Max of course paid for everything for Pamela’s services. Gifted her family a generous amount of money and set aside ten million dollars in a trust fund for all of Pamela’s family members to use to send their children to college. Max needed a new assistant and spent as much time as he could interviewing candidate after candidate. Most of them only looking to work for him in the hopes that they would get to cash in on his death and have the prestige of having worked for him on their resume. While Max was resigned to his fate long ago, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to go out fighting. Max was looking for someone that was intelligent, educated and had the experience to work for a high powered CEO, help him manage his company and also work his schedule to keep up with Doctor appointments, his medical needs and anything else that might come up. Enter Denise. A 35 year old professional woman. All 5’4” 120 pounds and 34F-22-32 of her. Max took his time interviewing the young woman. Mostly due to his medical needs and having to stop and rest throughout the day. Over the course of two weeks, speaking with her a total of eight days. She had an impressive background. Finished high school at 16. Finished bachelor’s degrees in biology, chemistry and physics by 24 at UC Berkeley. She completed her master’s in business by 26 at Stanford university. She spent the last ten years working at various companies in various capacities for management and executive support. Max had his company’s investigative team verify her background. All of it checked out. All of her references gave her very positive comments and both universities confirmed her degrees and GPA to be very high. As a final test, Max had Denise sign an NDA and gave her full executive access to her company. He asked her to analyze all subsidiary companies and their intellectual property and report on any IP that has potential. Max gave her one week. A week later, Denise had a 300 page report written up for him. Detailing profits and losses for every division, every subsidiary. In those reports she detailed where money had gone and how different projects, patents and departments were performing in relation to the value of their work and/or products. During her research, Denise came across several projects and patents that would interest Mr. Powers. She made an outline for each, highlighted key points and had them in different colored folders for him to review. The most interesting projects she put on top of the pile of course. “Homosapiens Supremis” was the name of the project, summary described a method of genetic enhancement that no one had ever thought of. Even with Max’s limited knowledge of bio-tech, he could tell that this was something that just needed modern technology to succeed. The project was part of a military R&D with ideas that were ahead of their time having been conceived and explored in the 70’s and 80’s and forgotten about, due to them being from acquisition companies that had long buried them as being unviable. This showed how thorough and persistent Denise was. Not even Pamela, his last assistant managed to dig deep enough for these projects to surface. After spending a week going through things. He sent instruction to the head of his biotech group to start work immediately to resurrect the project and keep all access secured to a small team with their new quantum encryption technology. If what Max read in the report from Denise, all with all the preliminary work done decades ago. This could be a revolution in medical science. Max hired the brunette busty bombshell. He knew she was the one to be his right hand. Within six months, the head of bio-tech that Max contacted had given him an update that shocked him to his core. “Sir, we have a viable process for reversing aging. The information in the records from the original scientists is revolutionary. It turned what we know of genetics on it’s head and makes so many more things possible. Whoever he was, was a geneticist beyond compare. I would like to discuss with you the process for doing our first human trial on you, Sir.” The next day, Max has the scientist and his entire genetics team and their equipment flown to his house on Mercer Island. It was another month before they were ready to start the experimental process on Max. Denise of course was with her boss every step of the way. She was curious to see how he would change, given that she had clued him into this whole idea. Maybe he could be able to walk again and live a few more years. By the end of the first week, everyone was shocked to see the changes in Max. He looked 20 years younger. He was able to walk unassisted, his hair had grown back, he was stronger and had more energy. The team of scientists and doctors were all amazed at the results. Denise was especially shocked, she felt genuinely happy for Max. He was one of the world’s greatest men and deserved to be able to accomplish so much more. Max no longer needed his wheelchair, he could eat normal food again, he didn’t need dialysis anymore.He could use the toilet on his own again. By the end of the second week, Max had again lost another 20 years to his appearance. He was absolutely loving the changes happening to him. He was dancing, he was singing, his mind was racing with all that was now possible for him. He felt better than he looked, he never felt this way at 50. He had a full head of hair again. He could run! He didn’t even feel any pain in his joints like he did 40 years ago. His time in the Marine Corps was rough on his body. But now, he felt better than ever. By the end of the third week of Max undergoing the gene therapy process... Denise had walked in on Max in the bathroom. He stood there, looking like a God. His body was nothing but pure muscle. He stood there, looking at himself in the large floor to ceiling mirror of the bathroom. Tensing his arms, then his legs, his abs, his pecs. She could see his cock slowly growing larger and larger, he was getting turned on by his own size and muscles. What started as an almost comically tented pair of posing trunks, guessing that Max was in the 8 inch neighborhood in length and about soda can in diameter when she walked in on him. His cock was now easily double in length and looked to have the same diameter as a wine bottle. His balls were the size of grapefruit and she could see them slowly swelling larger. His posing trunks having been torn through and fallen to the floor. The head was a little wider than the shaft, it was rounded at the tip and flaring out wider at the bottom. The tip was nearly touching the bottom of his pecs, it throbbed visibly with his heartbeat. Denise stared at the most massive, magnificent and powerful looking cock. No porn star had a cock like this, not even with those ridiculous prosthetics. Max took hold of his cock in his left hand, Denise noticed that his fingers could not wrap all the way around it. Max started to stroke his cock slowly, from just under the head down to the base and back up. Did he not notice her at all? Denise stood there, unable to move. Watching her boss, who in the last week had turned into the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder she had ever seen. With a shockingly huge cock to go along with his jaw dropping muscularity. Just a month ago, Max was a 90 year old wheelchair bound man practically on Death’s door. She tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t respond, it was like they were locked in place. She tried to say something, but her lips wouldn’t open. All she could do was watch as Max stroked his huge cock and curled his right arm, flexing so hard she could see his arm tremble from the exertion. His bicep was simply massive. With her straight on angle looking at his raised arm, she could see the muscle on the upper half of his arm, bulge out forwards and backwards as it was commanded to flex. “So much fucking MUSCLE!” Max exclaimed “Never in my life had I ever imagined being a bodybuilder. Now I can see the appeal. GOD DAMN!!! I’M FUCKING HUGE! … THE MUSCLE! …..THE STRENGTH!” Max let go of his cock and lowered his arm. He did the best most muscular pose he could, having seen it done before. He leaned forward, put out his left leg for balance. Then he flexed, his whole body erupted as his muscles obeyed his will and erupted into life. His muscles doubled in size, striations and veins came to life, he looked like a pro bodybuilder only bigger, better, more powerful. Denise’s eyes bulged, her jaw dropped as she watched him flex. Max kept up the flex, he stared at himself in the mirror. His cock was throbbing harder and harder, pushing up against his pecs as he leaned over. He relaxed the flex for a few moments, then flexed even harder, he roared like a beast. His heart was pounding in his chest, his cock was pounding just as hard and became painfully hard. He pushed himself more and more, flexing every muscle as hard as he could. His cock exploded, it blasted out cum like a fire hose. The first powerful shot was several seconds long. Max was still bent over flexing, pumping his muscles. He came again, the shot again several seconds long. He grunted and roared again, holding his flex as hard as he could. Staring at himself in the mirror. His cum shots arcing into the air, going farther each time until they were hitting the mirror, nearly 8 feet away. He could feel his huge balls jump and contract powerfully. Each shot made his cock surge bigger and harder. He stood there for nearly five minutes, holding the flex and cumming harder than he had ever before in his life. He finally relaxed and stood up straight. He was breathing hard, he sounded like a racehorse during a race. His torso heaved up and down, in and out with every breath. He couldn’t see himself in the mirror anymore. It was dripping with his thick cum, the consistency was like cold honey and even the thinnest layer of it was nearly opaque on the glass. He looked down, seeing his cock was still fully erect and painfully hard. Then he turned his head and looked over at Denise and smiled. “Did you enjoy the show Denise? I do have you to thank for my…”, he stopped and looked down at himself, holding his arms out in front of him a little, giving them a slight curl and a hard flex “…for my…amazing recovery from all my ailments. I’ve never felt this good before in my life! Not even when I was a strapping young man in The Marines! HAHAHAHA!” Max laughed powerfully, clearly reveling in his new body. Denise just stared at him in abject awe and a tinge of fear. “M …Muh…Max…I…I….I mean…Mister Powers! You look…” she swallowed hard “…you look INCREDIBLE!” Denise could barely tear her eyes away from Max’s massive cock to look at his muscles. But as she slowly studied every bulge, striation, separation. All she could think about was pure power. Max is the wealthiest man in the world, runs a multi-billion dollar corporation and is now the most muscular man on earth. [To be continued]

Muscle fog ogre’s gift Ch1 part three C by Big-Zargo Story C Blue Bulls Brew Marty’s Elixir was packed with patrons, making Daniel Moore somewhat happy. He was concerned when 6 girls didn’t show up for work today and he was angry when Sally mysteriously disappeared; but with the rest of his male staff he would be able to attend to everyone. Paul’s grandson was having his 21st birthday and Daniel owing him one, was happy to oblige his old friend. “Hey, Mr. Moore I have to go to the restroom, just number one Sir. Craig the beefy bouncer Said. “It’s all right, you can go. Nothing bad is going to happen while you’re in there but make it quick though.” Daniel the skinny bartender said, while smiling. “Wait a second I almost forgot have you seen Sally. She Came here Early but I don’t know why she would disappear, especially on a Friday night.” Daniel said with concern. “Yet that is strange.” Craig said while eyebrows narrowing in suspicion. “Something very bad must have come up. I think after my shift I’ll call her to see if she’s okay.” “Don’t worry about in two minutes I’ll have Jason take my place and make a phone call to her.” Daniel said. Walking past the bar’s countertop Craig headed towards the restroom, a few seconds later Kyle Shepard into the restroom as well and then the man of the hour Paul’s grandson Harry followed as well. The door fell with a crash on to the floor of the bar. All heads swiveling towards the sound of the door’s destruction. All peoples mouse dropping as they saw three extremely huge men. Couple seconds earlier “How do you like your birthday party. I know it isn’t as special now that your older Son; but you have to have fun for their sake.” Paul said to his grandson, with concern in his eyes. “Thanks grandpa.” Harry said with a dim smile on his face. “That’s the spirit boy. Marty’s elixir has a special drink for celebration. It will be your first taste of alcohol and I want it to be special for you since it was the 21st birthday.” Paul said. “Allen, David, and Frank can you guys move over, I have to go to the restroom, Harry said to his some of his rockets friends sitting next to him. Paul smiled at the sight of his grandson, making his way towards the restroom. This would be a good time for get Daniel to bring out the birthday cake and the Majestic Elixir for his grandson. Before could ask one of his grandsons’ friend to go over to Daniel about the cake and majestic elixir. They heard something crash on to the floor of Marty’s Elixir. Present time Three extremely huge hairy men have barged into the bar, with a wave of fog their feet. All in the bar are stun at the site of the huge men all that they were wearing were bowties. Terrence having a big smile at the site of the stunned humans. “It’s show time!” Terrence Yelled out, as he smacked his muscle gut. Terrence was given a light blue tie to complement his dark skin, while Christopher was given a cold green tie over his warm orange skin, while Kenneth was given warm red tie over his pale orange skin. “Let’s make these guys jealous!” Kenneth yelled out as he pounded his huge chest like a gorilla. The people in the bar did not recognize muscle beasts as the three young men who left the bar a couple minutes ago. “Let’s make some room for show.” Christopher said. None of them protested as two of the ogres moved a few tables and chairs. Before anyone could protest three ogres began posing and flexing in front of all the bar patrons with their show. So, transfixed by the muscle show none of the patrons did not notice two ogres coming into the bar and granting Daniel like a twig, and caring him to the employees’ room. “Are you guys ready!” Terrence yelled out. “Yes,” all the bars patrons say the bar patrons in unison. The magical fog flowing through the opening where the three flexing ogres, it caressing and warping Marty’s Elixir making every furniture, food, drink, and decoration disappear leaving the patrons on their feet. Their last grew every second of seeing the flexing ogres. Owen’s magical fog is spreading his influence among the bar patrons causing them to slowly jiz out their humanity. Hands having to reach for crotches because every man in the room cannot resist new or old sexual urges. “Come on Everybody move those hips like your fucking the air!” Kenneth yelled out. Starting with one and then another each man’s hips have started to back and forth. Each man’s cocks became erect, with Kenneth sexy words. Each man having to moan out their pleasure because they found their growing cocks and balls have been freed from the constraints of their pants. The Entire bar have been slowly changing with the inhabitants, what the interior growing taller and wider to fit the bur patrons’ new changes. Fat, or skinny, tall, or short, beefy, or feeble, average and all body types in between, all of the bar patrons grew with Ogreish muscles. Each bar patron’s hair grew wild in different shapes and sizes like, body hair, head hair, beards, mustaches, sideburns, 5 o’clock shadow’s, some even becoming bald. “Okay everyone let’s flex our legs!” Terrence yelled out. “Let’s flex our legs.” the bar patrons say in unison. All of the men’s Feet, Calves, Thighs, and Butts all grew with muscle in response of flexing their legs. All of their pants and shorts weren’t able to handle the growth of muscle and falling on to the floor in tatters. All three ogres have been smiling at the site, of people bursting their pants and shorts with their huge Ogreish legs. “Your guys legs looking fine.” Christopher said. The men were looking pretty weird with big Ogreish legs on scrawny human bodies, so the three flexing ogres in bowties just had to fix that. “Okay everyone let’s start flexing our chests!” Kenneth yelled out, as he began to flex his chest muscles. “Let’s start flexing our chests.” the bar patrons say in unison, as they began flexing their chest muscles. All of the men’s abs, and pecs all grew with muscle in response of flexing their chests. Their waists have widened as their chest expanded. All their shirts having joined their pants, sorts, undergarments, socks and shoes on the floor in tatters, as their clothes have been piling up. “That’s right keep flexing your chest. We’re going to make you guys into real sexy ogre.” Kenneth said. Their pecs were like huge pillows and abs were like big steel bumps, even on some of the changing men you could not see their ads because of their fat belly. Waves of primal energy have been bombarding the bars patrons adding pounds of Ogreish growth. Their minds and souls are changing to accept the Ogreish ways. “Let’s continue with our upper body with our arms!” Christopher yelled out. “Let’s continue with our arms.” The bar patrons say in unison, as he began flexing their arm muscles. All of the men’s hands, lower arms, biceps and shoulders grew with muscle in response of flexing their arms. Every men’s hands grew into huge mitts with sausage White fingers, their lower arms grew to compensate for their growing biceps which have grown the size of large bowling balls and find their shoulders grew into huge boulders. “You guys arms are looking good. Nice and thick, built like a brick.” Christopher said. The place was starting to smell less like a bunch of humans and more like a bunch of ogres, as the air was suffused with sweaty ogre musk; that came from the changing bar patrons. Terrence turned around and yelling out, “All right boys let’s finish up with flexing our backs!” "Let’s flex our backs.” The bar patrons say with a deep voice in unison, as they began flexing their back muscles. All of the men’s latissimus dorsi, teres, and trapezius grew in response of flexing their back muscles. Each man back grew until they have formed Wings with their back muscles, each man’s trapezius grew with their neck and tell it became indistinguishable. “All right everyone freestyle flexing.” All three flexing ogres in bowties said that once All of the men in the room were now too far gone in their transformation to turn back. “Damn you guys looking Fucking cut.” Kenneth said. The finalization of their Ogreish transformation was now starting to begin. All of the men noses have swelled, rounded and widen out, while their eyebrow ridges became more pronounce, there jaw have squared out and their canine became more sharper. They all gain brutal caveman facial features as their eyes slowly regaining focus. One by one each of the bar patrons have been grabbing their cocks and masturbating, each excepting the changes each wanting the changes each masturbating for it. Eventually the former humans came, shooting their humanity out through there fat Ogreish cocks. The Magical fog eight up all of the cum filled with humanity, leaving the ogres and the changing building clean from human cum. Marty’s elixir’s Restroom Blinking at the same time all Three occupants of Marty’s elixir’s restroom, they all felt like they woke up from a dream. “Man, it felt like, we were pissing here for hours.” Kyle said while peeing in the urinal. Me to, Kyle. It feels like hours have pass. Well I got to get back to work, Kyle. The night isn’t getting any younger. Craig said while drying off his hands. Walking towards the door Craig said to the passing Harry. “Happy birthday kid. Marty’s special elixir is well worth it.” Smiling back at Craig, Harry walked towards the urinal, Kyle said. “It’s your birthday?” “Yeah, it’s my 21st.” Harry said shyly. “Well that’s nice. May the rest of your birthday night be fun. I think I’m going to take a beer to go. I feel so tired, so I’m just going to head home.” Kyle said while washing his hands. “Don’t drink too much, hangovers are a pain.” Kyle said goodbye to Harry as he left the restroom, soon after Harry zipped up his pants, washed and dried his hands and left the restroom. Craig Soon after leaving the restroom Craig notice that something was different about the building. He did not remember the restroom door being on the right he remembered it facing toward the front of the bar, and there was never a hallway especially a large. Looking to his right he notice a wall made of fog, and when he looked to the left discovered a giant door with a just as huge lock on, the whole thing must have been twice the size of a regular door. At a closer examination Craig discovered that the giant door was slightly open. Deciding that the walls fog was too bizarre, Craig began walking towards the giant door. When he passed through the giant door, he noticed that the room was filled with racks of huge beer barrels. Craig did not remember ever seeing this room in Marty’s elixir, he remembered seeing the storage room where they kept their alcoholic beverages, but this room was different somehow. Walking in deeper into the room he noticed a logo on one of the huge barrels: The Blue Bulls Brew. Craig heard the giant door closing shot. “There is our bouncer.” said a deep familiar voice. Turning his head around, Craig saw an extremely huge man wearing, a cowboy hat with bull horns, a blue and white polka dot vest, a blue tie, a white sleeve up shirt, blue pleated pants, big black leather shoes. He also had, blonde hair, familiar blue eyes, a strong jaw, a round, a beard like a lion’s mane, hairy arm, and he so pack with muscles that Craig could see it through his clothes. The huge muscle beasts’ eyes were familiar to Craig, but the fierce site of this beast made him pause. “Now Craig, you cannot be wearing those clothes. You have to wear company uniform of the Blue Bulls Brew.” The muscle beasts said while chastising at Craig. “I, I, I, I, don’t work for the Blue Bulls Brew. I work for Marty’s Elixir.” Craig said in a staggering and fearful tone. “Craig, Craig, Craig, Craig,” the muscle beasts said, while moving his head right and left and right and left. “Marty’s Elixir is no more thinks to the power of Lord Owen it has been reborn into the Blue Bulls Brew. Lord Owen power has remade me into a big strong sexy ogre. The bar you know as Marty’s Elixir is dead, the man you know as Daniel M. Moore is dead. He has….” The ogre said before being interrupted. Hearing that Daniel was dead, Craig went to a frenzy. “I’ll kill you,” Craig yelled out. Craig ran towards the huge ogre with the cowboy hat with bloodlust. “Really Craig.” the ogre with the cowboy hat said, in exasperation. Grabbing Craig by his face, with his huge Ogreish Hand, the ogre gave a vicious smirk. Making a whistling with his thick lips, while holding Craig’s face. The ogre with the cowboy hat said. “Come on boys this one’s going to be trouble.” Two ogres have walked in from inside passage. Each wearing blue short shorts, blue and white shoes, blue T-shirt with white trimmings, blue and white cow pattern vast, a blue and white polka dot tie, and a blue Bulls hat with small white horns. The two ogres have grabbed at Craig’s flailing arms. Grabbing a Blue Bulls’ hat from the rack the ogre with the cowboy hat said. “Where was I again. oh yeah. The human you know as Daniel has been reborn or I should say I have been reborn.” It took a few minutes for Daniel’s words to sink in Craig’s head. Stopping his flailing Craig said, with a Blanche face. “No, no way, you can’t be Daniel. Daniel is a skinny, short bartender you, you, your, this huge muscle monster how can you possibly be Daniel.” “As I said I was reborn by the power of Lord Owen, and now you will be reborn as well. Seamer, and Charlie, stripped him up in clothes.” Daniel ordered. Craig found his clothes being ripped off of him like wrapping paper on a Christmas present. What laid before the Ogreish Daniel, was a naked Craig whose pale skin glinted against the light. With your body already beefy you will make a fine ogre. You just need the companies hat and maybe a few accessories. Daniel said, while licking his lips in anticipation. Renewing his struggles Craig have attempted to get loose from the two ogres that have been holding his arm. “Stop struggling,” Daniel said. Then Craig felt Daniel’s hand covering his face as he had slipped a Blue Bulls’ hat on to Craig’s head. At first Craig felt nothing coming from the hat. “Oops I forgot about the ring.” Daniel said. Grabbing a golden nose ring from his pocket, Daniel readjusted his grip on Craig’s face and slipped it on to his nose. “That’s much better.” Daniel said, while smiling and moving from Craig. “Let him go boys. The Blue Bulls’ bouncer is going to meet some space to grow.” Two ogres let go Craig’s body as it began to shake. “No, No, No, No, ooh aww, Craig said, before mounted out.” Craig’s body have exploded with growing muscle, with it Growing wider and taller Craig felt primal power flow out through his changing body. Craig felt his humanity concentrate into his growing cock and balls. “I must not.” Craig said, in sexual pleasure. He felt so much pleasure his cock, that trying to resist coming was an exercise in futility. “I feel so god damn horny.” Craig said moaned out. Eventually he came, roaring as his huge fat 10-inch cock shot out the last of his humanity and humans cum. “I think he turned out right.” Daniel said. Standing before the three ogres, was Craig a 11-foot-tall ogre with huge bulging muscles, red hair peppering body, a long beard and hair, huge orange size hairy balls, a thick pale orange skin and the usual Ogreish facial features. “Damn, I fucking feel fantastic, Lord Owen has true blessed us all. Now Daniel wears the blue Bulls special Harry something special a drink for his 21st birthday.” Craig said, with a smile. Kyle Leaving the restroom Kyle wasn’t expecting to end up in a foggy back alley. It was surprisingly well lit, but he really couldn’t see passed the fog. Deciding that this was weird he tried heading back to the restroom door, only to find it missing. “Kyle Shepard.” A deep sexy voice said behind Kyle’s back. For some reason Kyle’s cock became erect, as he slowly turned around. “My god.” Kyle said in stunned shock. Standing before Kyle was a huge fog covered monster with glowing eyes. “Who, Who, Who, or what are you?” Kyle said in awe and fear. “I am the enforcer, the left-hand for Lord Owen. I have come for the one called Kyle Shepard. Are you him?” The enforcers said. Every word coming from the enforcers mouth made Kyle more and more horny. “Yeah I’m Kyle Shepard.” He said in a horny stupor. “Then come with me Lord Owen speak with you.” Said the enforcer. Kyle began following the enforcer. Harry Opening the door Harry was not expecting to see the bar changed and filled with huge hairy people. It was if he was a small child in a restaurant filled adults. Harry’s mine was having a hard time comprehending the site. The bars sudden changes of themes boggle the mind, he must’ve in the restroom for about two to five minutes give or take. How could it possible for the bar to change it seemed so quickly and what happened to all patron. All Harry could see were the huge hairy muscle men, they must’ve been around 10 feet tall at the most, some were wearing T-shirts, tank tops, vests, kilts, shorts, thongs, pants and loincloths, while some were bare chested, and others were practically naked or actually naked. Then he saw the plaque on the wall it said, Blue Bulls Brew. Harry began hyperventilating, his mind not able to understand what was going on, and before he knew it, he fainted. Harry woke up to the sound of the happy birthday song. “What’s going on.” Harry said groggily. Harry had discovered that he was sitting and that he was surrounded by six huge hairy muscle men. One man had a golden beard like a lion’s mane and was wearing nice suit with a blue and white polka dot tie, caring a huge birthday cake with number 2 and 1 shaped candles. All six men looked familiar to him for some reason like he sees them before. They were to on his left, three on his right and the one placing the cake down in the front the table circle. The two on the left were familiar reminding him of Allen, David and the two on right reminding them of Frank and Jane. The file one on his right and the closest to him reminded him of his grandfather Paul, but he was average size, having mostly a white with sprinkling of black and starting to slouch, this person next to was huge rippling with muscle, black hair that was peppered with flakes of gray , have much darker complexion of Brown skin and a round nose. In fact they all had a round, now that he was looking closely. Harry wanted to pinch himself, to check if he was in a dream. But when the huge dark skin man patted his shoulders, Harry knew that he wasn’t dreaming, instead he was in a living nightmare. All the huge men around his table were now done singing their birthday song and were now looking at him expecting. “Come on boy blow out those candles and make you wish.” huge dark skin the man said, gaily. Harry having been encouraged by the other men at the table blew out the two candles on the cake. They all of the huge men have clapped and cheered at the site of Harry blowing out the candles. Please by his action harry having been given a huge knife and guided by the huge dark-skinned man. “Birthday boy gets the biggest piece.” Said the huge dark-skinned man. Harry had ended up cutting a large piece of the birthday cake. Harry’s large piece of cake was like the size of a small watermelon, making him gulp with nervousness. The huge hulking men dove into feasting upon the huge pieces of birthday cake. “What’s wrong harry? you’re not eating your birthday cake.” The huge dark-skinned man said with concern. “I’m not really hungry.” Harry said sheepishly. “That’s no problem, it just means your thirsty, and now that your 21. You can have the Blue Bulls special elixir the Belgian Blues Might.” The huge dark-skinned man said with glee. Moving his plate inside the huge dark-skinned man grabbed a huge barrel shaped mug it was a least a 15th inches tall with a long straw attached to the top of it. Before Harry could no to the strange drink the huge dark-skinned man placed the straw into Harry’s mouth and the other huge man beside him pinched his nose preventing him from breathing. “I won’t let your nose go and tell half of your Belgian blues might is gone.” The other huge man said with a malicious smile. With no choice harry began to drink the Belgian Blues Might. The taste of the Belgian Blue Might was so tasty that harry gobbled it down. “That’s a good boy.” The huge dark-skinned man The ogre’s sitting Harry’s table watch the man of the hour become the ogre of the hour. “Keep going Harry!” Yelled out the Ogreish Frank. With no one no longer holding his nose and his straw, harry greedily slurped at the Belgian Blues Might, as he began to change. While this whole time Harry was sitting at the table, he didn’t know is that he was naked, the ogres secretly watched him carefully and now their observations were paying off. Before their eyes Harry’s average body started to become more defined. A chest that was hairless began growing black curly hair. A once smooth face grew a 5 o’clock shadow, as his once baby like face became more masculine and brutish. His now flat hairy belly began growing abs. His once skinny arms and legs grew with muscle. Harry’s body swelled and swelled ballooning out as he grew in size. His once warm brown skin became more darker with every growth of his swelling muscles. When his once average body reach heavyweight bodybuilder levels, the Ogreish growth spurt kicked in. His already huge body swelled out even further growing taller and wider. Eventually Harry had fully grown, reaching 10 feet in height. The one last muscle growth spurt Harry came shooting the last of his humanity through his fat foot long cock. Harry was now a heavy muscular ogre with huge meaty pecs, bowling balls size biceps, tree trunk like thighs, a nice six pack abs, orange size balls, Boulder like shoulders, a nice bubble butt, a peppering of black curly hair over his body, a thick beard and mustache, shaved head, a round nose and caveman like facial features. Harry took a big belch before grabbing his plate with the birthday cake and scuffing it down. The bar named Marty’s elixir and it’s human occupants was now smothered by Owen’s muscle fog and reborn as the blue Bulls brew, and the occupant are now huge muscular ogres. With all the magic Samuel commanded he thought he could protect his wife, but he was wrong. Now the entity named Owen has been unleashed upon Holmes top Borough. It somehow took every woman and child from the town, only leaving the men behind. The order of the ark green was tasked to protect the world from the evil of Owen. With Mrs. parsley dead and her key gone Owen should be able to manifest in a physical form, but this this disappearance of so many people could only mean that the fifth key to Owens prison was found in the was used to help Owens escape. Dammit parsley you should retired or gotten an apprentice not gotten yourself killed. I have one last stop to make before I reconvene with my order.

Muscle fog ogre’s gift Ch1 part three B by Big-Zargo Story B Muscle Blast Terrence and his friends were walking out the sports bar called Marty’s Elixir. Terrence being the designated driver was sober while his friend Christopher and Kenneth were drunk off their ass. “Come on you two, let’s go. This Friday night is almost over. We have to head back to school by Monday.” Terrence said, well dragging his two drunken friends. “Come on Terrence, it will only take us about six hours to drive back to our dorms. And we have …. hiccup sound… two more days.” Christopher Said, in a drunken stupor. “You Promise your girlfriend Carla that you would pick her up on Saturday evening, from her parents. And you made me promise to help you with your promise to her. I’m helping you do that by making sure you hit the hay and not stay up all night drinking and tell you pass out in the morning.” Terrence said. “He’s right you know if you don’t pick her up… Hiccup sound…. She will dump your ass. You have too many broken promises to afford one more…. Belching sound… and although she understands you are not perfect… Hiccup sound…. She is willing to give you one more chance to change yourself…. Hiccup sound… Like you promise her that you would.” Kenneth said, drunkenly. “With the always this foggy, I.I.I can barely see. I don’t remember it being foggy when we entered the b,b,b, bar.” Christopher said. “You’re right Christopher, it is strange”. Terrence said. “Hey what’s that blue light.” Christopher said before he got hit by it. Falling to the ground by the force of the blue light. As Terrence and Kenneth said, “What the hell.” at the same time.” Terrence realized that Christopher was literally blasted off his feet and that Terrence’s hand was completely empty where he was holding Christopher’s wrist. Looking down at Christopher they notice that his body was starting to shake, like he was vibrating. Right in front of Terrence’s and Kenneth’s eyes, Christopher grew like the incredible hulk. First his clothes having started out by tightening before stretching, showing off his growing body. before their eyes Christopher’s clothes that have been already stretched to their limits and now begun their process of ripping and tearing into pieces. Huge beefy pecs grew and grew as hair began popping up all over his body. Arms and legs quickly grew larger than a human’s head, and feet that grew twice as long as wide, completely bursting his shoes and shedding his socks. “What the fuck!” Kenneth yelled out. Christopher’s shredded clothes falling to the ground revealing his new huge muscular body. With his new huge 10-inch-long cock, he shot his load of cum into the night moaning while he did so. Christopher was now a huge muscular giant. He must have been around 10 feet tall by Terrence estimation. His once chubby arms and legs were now jacked up with huge muscle. He was wide as he was tall, and with those shoulders and a waste twice as wider than a human. It seemed that most of his fat must the move towards his belly and pecs. his big belly did not sag but was firm, for He must have a tight muscle gut underneath that layer of fat that covers his belly. His pecs did not sag either, but they look plump and somehow his thick skin was oranges it was hard to tell the dark. Is normally shaved to face now had short beard on and his hair was more spiker. With facial features like a brute and hair peppering his muscular body he was rocking the giant caveman look. Christopher sat up from the ground, blinking before yawning revealing his new huge sharp canines. Now noticing his friend Cameron gave a smile before doing a double bicep pose. “Do you guys like what you see. I am fucking huge, and I feel fucking amazing to. Come on Kenneth feel my fucking bicep there just so fucking huge. Come on Terrence don’t be shy I have to arms so there’s plenty of me to go around.” Christopher said jovially. Kenneth being drunk, curious, and just disbelieving placed his outstretched right hand on to Christopher’s huge bicep. “Feels so hard and warn, man.” Kenneth said, in wonder. Kenneth back off from the huge Christopher and said. “Why do I feel so warm, all the sudden?” As his body began to shake. Like Christopher, Kenneth’s body grew with muscle and with no chance of holding on against his body grew, Kenneth’s clothes tightening and then tearing before bursting off of his growing body. In no time Kenneth’s shredded clothes fell on to the ground and before Terrence’s eyes can flat belly grew a pair of six-pack abs and his cock became erect as it grew fat and long. Roaring as he came, he shot his on to Christopher’s hairy chest. “That looks delicious.” Christopher said. Using one of his Fingers as a spin Christopher licked at Kenneth’s cum, like a man tasting ice cream. What the fuck. Terrence said in discuss. Never seeing a disgusting gay act like that before. Terrence refocused on Kenneth. Kenneth was now a huge 10 feet tall giant like Christopher. Now twice as large as the biggest human man Kenneth and Christopher towered over Terrence with height and muscle. Kenneth once skinny body was now beef up like Christopher’s body, with huge muscular arms and legs a thick 9-inch cock with orange size balls, a nice set of six pack abs. Kenneth was also sharing the caveman look Christopher, with a long black beard reaching his hairy huge beefy pecs and with surprisingly similar facial features they could pass for two hairy brothers. “Wow this is fucking amazing.” Kenneth said, while flexing his huge muscular body. Grabbing Christopher’s arm and lifting him off the ground, Kenneth gave a toothy grin, at his immense strength. “I’m all for you guys getting some exercise but this is ridiculous. Christopher how going to explain this to Carla let alone your parents .” Terrence said, with a concerned voice. “I don’t know who this Carla you are talking about, but all I care about are my two brothers, you and Kenneth. We’re going to show those puny humans in the bar are big sexy muscles.” Christopher said. “We’re going to watch them puny human transform into big strong sexy ogres. Then we are going to drink and fuck all night before heading to my dad’s house and if he’s not big strong sexy by the time we get back, I’ll stuff fat cock in his pale white ass, before heading to bed.” Kenneth said. “That isn’t you speaking. It’s whoever or whatever turned you into that that musclebound monster. You guys aren’t gay. You guys aren’t this sex and muscle crazed monster. We just need to take you guys to the hospital, we just……..” Terrence said as his mind fell upon a blank. Terrence’s body began to shake. Like Christopher and Kenneth, Terrence’s body grew with muscles, and size. Feeling his bones go hot and cold, hot, and cold as they grew to compensate his growing body. Trying to resist this foreign influence with the last of his lingering will, Terrence’s felt his cock grow and swell as it became the erect. Terrence felt his humanity leak out of his throbbing hard cock as well as the air of the night on his naked body. His clothes already in tatters and on the ground, his muscles already huge and his humanity almost gone. Eventually like the others he came, shooting his cum and the last of his humanity onto the ground. “Damn look quite sexy Terrence.” Christopher said “don’t I know it.” Terrence said, while flexing huge hairy pecs. Terrence was now an ogre like his two friends; 10 feet tall, rippling with muscles, a firm muscle gut more defined than Christopher’s, black curly hair peppering body, a bushy beard, a fat foot-long cock, with orange size hairy balls, dark brown skin, and surprisingly he kept his short haircut. “Can you feel Owen’s blessing?” Christopher said to Terrence. “I can feel it Christopher. Can you Kenneth?” Terrence said. “Hell, yeah I can.” Kenneth said. The other two ogres began to flex showing off their muscles, with Terrence. Each of their cocks re-hardened as they became more aroused at the site of their muscles. Eventually they stopped flexing their muscles to begin masturbating. All three ogres rubbed at their hard-fat cocks with their big muscular hands. “So how are we going to transform all those humans into ogres.” Terrence said “I think we should just bust down the door and just start fucking all those people.” Kenneth said “Don’t be daft, Kenneth. Some of the humans might be able to getaway and I don’t want to chase them down.” Christopher said. “Maybe we should just wait outside the door and take turns as we grabbed the humans one by one.” Terrence said. “yeah but if you do that the humans might scream or moan to loudly giving us away. Plus, how are we going to hide are big sexy bodies from the front windows we would probably be too close to the windows to hide in the fog.” Kenneth said. “What I want to do is just go inside and start flexing my huge muscles. I want to see them drool at the site of my meat. I want them to start begging me for my fat cock.” Christopher said. “Damn that’s making thirsty. Kenneth said. “Know what guys all three plans are really sexy maybe we can just a little bit of all three of them. Christopher barge in and get their attention, then you Kenneth headed towards the back blocking off the exit and having a way that one of them. I’ll stay out here and grab any stragglers that attempt to leave Christopher’s show.” Terrence said. “Damn that sexy.” Christopher said. All three ogres started picking up their pace as they imagine the humans transforming into ogres. The three ogres came all at once. Each ogre roaring as their load came out of their fat cocks. “That that was fucking amazing.” Terrence said, in his afterglow of his orgasm. “I think I could do this all night.” Christopher said, while panting. “Damn my ass is starting to itch. I think I need one of you guys the stuff your fat cock in it.” Kenneth said, hungrily. “I’m am thirsty you guys; you want to go back in the bar and get a few drinks?” Christopher asked. “That was a good show you guy. Here have a drink, it’s on. You guys are going to need it.” Said a mysterious voice. All three ogres turned around to see five other ogres. One was wearing a barbarian like armor, a 5 o’clock shadow with a big thick mustache and long brown hair reaching his shoulders. The other one had black wild hair beard and, on his head, a retirement muscle gut, oranges brown skin, and a tattoo. Another one had a wild black shaggy hair, a mustache complemented with a 5 o’clock shadow and sharp gray eyes. Another one had pepper hair all over his body, a wild beard, and wild shorthair. The final one was just hairy. All sharing the square jaw rounded no pronounce eyebrow ridge and all sharing the caveman look like Terrence and his friends. The ogre wearing a barbarian armor gave the three sweating ogres 3 huge gallon of bottled water. “My name is Jackson, a mighty guardian and warrior of Lord Owen.” said the armored ogre. "And I love your muscle show and Lord Owen as well." The three ogres smile with pride. “Here take the three bowties, a gift from our Lord. With these three magical bowties all the humans in the bar will not be able to resist you guys and all those who see your guys show will be blessed by Lord Owen’s gift. Besides,” Jackson points to the ogre with the tattoo. “He needs to go inside and speak with the bartender and the owner if he is around.” Jackson said. The Three ogres pick their colors bowties and nodded their heads in thanks, before heading to Marty’s elixir for their big show.

I'm definitely not used to writing a slower paced story, so please bear with me on this one. Part 1 Part 2 ____________________________________________ I actually ran to the campus cafeteria as fast as I could, considering my legs were like jelly. Usually I'd never run like that out in public since I hated anything that would draw attention to me, but I didn't care about that right now. I just wanted to get there so I could see Jack. I was really nervous that he'd already left. I ran up to the building and through the front double doors, not even paying attention to the loud noise I'd just made as I entered. No one seemed to really notice anyway; it was already relatively noisy inside since it was around dinner time. I stood in the entryway, looking around but trying not to be too conspicuous about it. I did have my pride, after all, and didn't want to look like the loser who had no friends. Of course, I knew, rationally, that no one was probably going to think that anyway, but I still got in my own head sometimes. I scanned the room, looking at any tables I could see, trying to locate Jack. He didn't say he was going to go change or anything, so I was looking for the same Jack I saw in the gym. Light jacket with the school colors and logo, sleeveless shirt with the dark gym shorts, and messy hair. I couldn't find him, though. I started looking at the tables with several people, even the full tables, thinking he was probably popular and met up with a bunch of friends. I just couldn't find his face. I was internally searing and kicking myself, wondering why I could let my horny and hard dick control my actions earlier. I could have jerked off any other time! I dejectedly walked towards the food line and decided I should at least get a bunch of food and just go back to the dorm. The line only had about 3 people in front of me, so I was happy at least I wouldn't have to wait too long. I had almost reached the back of the line when someone bumped into me from behind, damn nearly knocking me over. I'm a passive person, even though I liked to imagine I could be a tough guy, so my first instinct was to apologize to the person who bumped into me and let them go past me. "Sorry," I muttered, moving aside, not even looking at the person. "Shut up." I looked up and it was Jack, just standing there, shit-eating grin on his face. He gave a small, half-hearted wave when I finally looked up at him. "Jack! I figured you'd left!" "No, I was sitting on the bench outside and saw you run right by me." "You were outside? You actually waited for me..." "Yeah I waited for you, what'd you think I was gonna do? Just leave? I told you I'd wait and I meant what I said." "Yeah I just... I don't know... I guess I didn't think you'd stick around for this long." Jack kind of chuckled at that. "You're so me. Past-me." I must've gave him a look of bemusement. He continued, "I had the exact same thoughts back when I first started working out. About my friend who'd gotten me into it. I didn't think he'd stick around. I thought I was just a burden to him and he'd just disappear. But he didn't. And I don't intend to. I'll stick with you as long as you stick with me." He gave me a smile. "Cool?" "Y-yeah, we're cool." I was relieved, but his assurance that he was just like me was also a bit concerning. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, yet. "Relax, dude. Come on," he said, and put his arm around my shoulders and guided me towards the line. The weight of his arm was unmistakable, and it was clear it was a muscled arm, even under the sleeve of that jacket. Remembering when he flexed his arm for me, my dick started to plump and harden. He seemed to know me all too well, and I guess we were a lot alike, based on what he's said so far, so I couldn't help but wonder if he did some of these things knowing he was teasing me. Jack was very knowledgeable about nutrition, based on the explosion of information he'd given me as soon as it came time to select our food. He told me what types of food to avoid and which ones to prioritize, saying that I wanted to get a lot of calories in, but they had to be "good" calories, not just fatty calories. "You'll never grow if you don't eat," he said. "People always think the hard part of gaining muscle is lifting weights, but it's really the nutrition. So many people give up because they never bother to learn about the nutrition." And he made me get a lot of food, too. I expected as much, but I worried I wouldn't be able to consume it all. He assured me, though, that even though it seemed daunting, it was just a matter of consistency and routine, and my stomach and body would get used to the amounts of food I would need, and with the amount of work I'd be putting my muscles through, my body would metabolize the food fast. Which means I'd have to eat a lot, and often. "That's a lot of eating..." I said, sort of trailing off. "Yes, it is, and I'm not lying when I say it's the hard part. You got really into your workout earlier, so I don't think for one second you'll have trouble doing that part. The nutrition is where you're gonna have to show you really want this. Do you really want to gain muscle, or are you gonna disappoint me?" I looked at his face with that question, looking for a hint of joviality, and I saw none. Wow. He wasn't trying to be funny, and when I pondered an answer to the question, I realized that I already respected him so much that I truly didn't want to disappoint him. I wanted to impress him. I wanted to show him that he hasn't wasted his time on me. "No man, I won't disappoint you. I definitely want this," I said, and continued eating. "Cool," he smiled, and continued eating his own dinner. "And uh... I want to thank you for taking the time to show me these things. I've never had a friend that's done anything like this for me." He smiled again, "Dude, I told you, I was able to read you like an easy book. I just wanted to be there for someone who was clearly just like me. But, I'm also glad you think of me as a friend, already." I smiled, and I'm sure I blushed a little. "But dude, we gotta do something about--" he gestured his hands at me, "--this." "What?" I had legitimately no idea what he was talking about. He sort of waved his hands at me when he said it, and my first guess was that he meant my body, but I thought we'd already settled on how I was doing something about it. "Your clothes, dude. You look like a ten-year-old nerd who still lets mommy dress him." I blushed with embarrassment. "I... I've never... I don't..." Jack started laughing. "It's alright, I'm just giving you shit. But if you wanna work on some style, I can help you there, too. It's just that you're wearing yet another sweater and it's kinda lame. We gotta get you dressed like an athlete. Soon you're gonna have muscles growing from your limbs, and you want your clothes to show a hint of it, but not all of it. Let people know you got something going on, but let them guess what they can't see." I don't think my face stopped being red, but I felt more excited now than embarrassed. As long as Jack was willing, I was going to let him guide me in any way he saw fit. I left the campus cafeteria with a lot to think about. I'd actually bothered to take notes on the nutritional aspects of bodybuilding. And yeah, I actually used the term "bodybuilding," which is a term I'd never have dreamed of using to describe anything that I was doing. And yet here I was. Walking back to my dorm room, still with shaky legs, the phone number AND SnapChat of a new friend added to my phone, and the main things on my mind were what foods I needed to start eating and cutting out, and when I could workout again. Jack told me I can't do too much or it'll just be harmful. He said he'd call me when it was time for me to go back. I finally made it to my dorm room, and this time the lights were on already when I walked in. My roommate was back from wherever he was, finally. He was sitting at his desk, and it appeared as though he was studying. He turned towards me when he heard the door click shut, and I saw a bit of a smile creep across his face. "Hey maaaaannnn--" he drew out the 'man' part, "--what have you been up to?" He asked the question then sat there, a strange smile across his face, looking expectantly at me. "...Why are you being weird?" I asked. He chuckled a little. "Am I being weird? Well, I guess I was just a little... surprised... when I came back here and walked into what smelled a little too much like... well, cum, and then I saw your mirror. What have you been up to?" FUCK. I didn't even think about it! Shit. How do I explain this? "I, uh, errr---" I was stammering. I didn't have anything to say. But then it occurred to me that we're both dudes. I'm sure he's jerked off before. Probably right in this room. So who is he to judge me? "We're dudes, sometimes we get horny and gotta take care of business, you know? I just couldn't take it anymore and had to rub one out." I felt really cool for coming up with that. I felt like Jack was already rubbing off on me. "Uh huhhhhh..." he responded, still looking right at me, his eyes narrowed a little bit. "So, can I ask what made you so horny?" "It was... I... I was thinking about... No, you may not." Okay, the 'cool' factor took a major hit on that one. I tried to take a step forward and of course my legs decided that this was the best time to let me down, literally, and I stumbled and landed on my knee. My roommate, Cory, just started busting up laughing. "Trouble walking?" he said, between the laughs. With some struggling, I was able to finally pick myself up and put weight on my legs again, as Cory's laughs finally subsided enough. He spoke again, "Seriously bro, what's going on with you? In just the last few minutes you've shown behavior I've never seen out of you. Is something going on? I mean, you jerk off all over the mirror, and I'll admit it's a shit ton of spunk for a skinny guy like you, and then you walk in here unable to walk. Tell me what's going on, because I'd rather know now if you're doing some illegal shit, like drugs." Drugs?! He thinks I'm on drugs?!? It'd be funnier if it couldn't potentially get me into trouble. Or at least disrupt my life a bit. I sighed. "No, I'm not on drugs. I'm not that stupid. Promise me you won't laugh." "Dude, we're roommates. AND friends. I think I've shown you that you can trust me." "Well, I decided to start hitting the gym. I want to gain some weight. Some muscle." I half-heartedly flexed my arms, just to extraneously prove what I meant when I said 'muscle,' not that he'd see anything anyway since my arms were covered by my lame sweater sleeves. "Oh, dude that's awesome. Why would I laugh? Plenty of guys hit the gym. It's actually what many would consider, uh, normal?" Cory has this tendency to mark pretty much everything he says with a hint of sarcasm. I was relieved, though, that he wasn't making fun of me. I was starting to feel like I was making this whole fitness journey out to be much more scary than it actually is. "I guess I've always just been intimidated by the gym," I finally said. "Dude, so is like, every other guy out there before they finally get into it. You broke that barrier, and now you just have to keep at it." He actually made me feel pretty good about myself, if I was being honest. "So... what made you horny?" he asked again. "Cory don't you think that's a little personal?" "Get used to that sort of locker room talk, because you're probably gonna hear a lot more of it. So tell me what made you horny." I felt like my whole world was changing. Was he right? Was I really going to hear a lot more talk like that in the future? "I, uh, finished showering earlier, and I guess I was still pumped with adrenaline from the gym, so I was a little horny to begin with, but then I saw myself in the mirror and couldn't help imagining what it'd be like to finally have some muscle on my body. And it made me get even hornier, and I couldn't help myself." "That got you horny?" he asked, and I got worried he'd now make fun of me. "Well... yeah." "Seems pretty normal to me. Lots of guys get horny from working out." I was relieved, yet again, that he wasn't about to make me feel like a loser. But then he stood from his chair and walked over to me. He stood in front of me and said "I used to hit the gym before college started, and I tried to keep up with it, but I'm finding it hard to make time. But I think my work is still holding up." He then hooked his thumbs into the bottom of his shirt and lifted it over his head, revealing his torso. And fuck. Cory had a body. He wasn't as toned as Jack, but his muscles definitely had more size. How had I not noticed this before? And then he flexed his biceps, and they rose up like baseballs under his thin skin. "What, umm, what are you doing?" I stuttered out. "What's it look like? I'm flexing," he nonchalantly said, looking at his own biceps. But then he relaxed his arms and ran his hands over his chest and abs, which weren't all too defined, but still evident. And his chest definitely still bulged out nicely. And I hated to admit it, and I tried to keep myself from letting it happen, but my cock was starting to thicken and grow. And just then, Cory relaxed again and let his arms hang at his sides, and I once again wondered how I'd never noticed how thick his upper arms were. I guess I just figured he was simply 'chunky.' But he was pretty built. "This is how I know about gym stuff," he said, "But I'm more interested in something else right now." He stepped closer to me, close enough that I swear I could feel his breath, and he reached his hand out and placed it on my crotch. FUCK. "Yeah, muscles make you hard. Period. I thought so." I felt completely mute. I had no words. I don't think I even had coherent thoughts. He was right, though. All my eyes wanted to look at right now was Cory's body. And with his hand on my crotch, my dick throbbed uncontrollably, and I felt pre beginning to build up and leak. My breaths were becoming more shallow. He took his other hand and grabbed my hand, and placed it on his chest. He flexed his pecs and I felt the undeniably hard muscle flex and bulge. My cock once again throbbed, hard. He took his hand off my crotch and slowly reached down my pants and grabbed it, skin to skin. "Wow, you're really hard. You're a muscle nerd. Good to know." And with that, he took his hand out of my pants, turned around, and grabbed his shirt and began putting it back on. His back was wide, too, and clearly a muscle back. It was actually hot, and I couldn't believe I didn't know my own roommate had this much muscle on his body. I stood there, mouth hanging open, with no words to say, not because I didn't want to speak, but because I couldn't form any thoughts. I was now sexually frustrated beyond belief. My dick was flexing and throbbing, and there was even a wet spot forming on the front. Cory, now clothed, turned back around to face me and, with a grin on his face, clearly pleased with himself, said "You should probably take care of that thing." But then, to my astonishment, and beyond anything I could ever imagine, he pushed up his sleeves and gave one more double bicep flex, saying "Boom," in a low yet commanding voice. Those nice biceps rose back up into the baseballs that they were, and just seeing him flex this one last time sent me over the edge. My whole body shuddered, my hips bucked involuntarily, and I felt that sharp and intense pressure at the tip of my cock as my cum exploded forth into my boxers. I had to have shot at least four times, the wet spot growing ever bigger on my pants, and I felt a soft moan escape from my mouth. I heard a low chuckle coming from Cory, and he let his arms back down and plopped himself back in his chair. "I guess I took care of it for you, then." I stood there, still, quivering, my sensitive dick receding and the friction against my wet boxers causing me to squirm, with my mouth hanging open. Again. "W-Why, Cory?" He grinned an evil grin this time. His eyes darkened, and I could tell he was thinking something different from what he said, but I had no more energy to put forth right now. "Because I wanted to have some fun." I wasn't satisfied with that answer, but I had to get out of these wet boxers. I wondered if Cory was secretly gay. He never hinted at it before, and he'd sometimes talk about girls he thought were hot, but the fact that he'd just done what he'd done was making me question him. What will happen in this dorm room when I actually do start getting big? Well, if I start getting big. I want to be confident, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. I also started to feel really tired, and I knew I'd need to sleep soon. Jack was sure to mention how I'd need to get rest if I wanted my muscles to grow. I sure did cum a lot, considering I'd just jerked off a couple hours ago. Time to shower. Again.

Hope this isn't too cliche! I know I've been spotty with posting stuff, and I apologize. I've had a lot of trouble maintaining interest in any one story I've worked on. Part 2 __________________________ I'll admit. I was never an alpha. I always wanted to be, though. I'd see the other dudes in the locker room or at the park or at the mall or... well, anywhere, really, being cocky studs because they had the confidence and bodies to prove it. It was always frustrating in high school to have to be in the locker room with these athletes and watch them flexing their arms, comparing with each other, showing off, and I'd have to hide in the corner somewhere hoping not to be noticed because, let's face it, I had no body to be proud of. I wasn't fat, but I still had, like, zero muscle on my frame. I wasn't athletic, though I may have always tried my best when I had to. Watching them flex their muscles would always turn me on, though. I'd see a dude flex and instantly my dick would twitch and start growing, harder and harder until full throbbing hardness, even well after the image of the flexing, bulging muscle had left my view. And it wasn't just seeing flexing muscles that would get me hard, either. I could simply be at the mall and see a group of friends walking together, some or all of them with tight, athletic, muscular bodies hiding beneath tight-fitting clothes. Sometimes, to me, that was even hotter than bare-chested Adonises. I could never explain to myself or make sense of how that would sometimes be hotter to me. There was just... something about a dude with a hot sexy muscular body wearing a tight shirt. It probably had something to do with how he clearly knew he was sexy, and deliberately put on clothes that would showcase it. But anyways... I'd grown up through middle school, high school, and now in college with this insatiable lust for muscle and simply seeing it. I'd had plenty of jerk-off sessions simply from looking at sexy dudes flexing or showing off their amazing muscled bodies. Coming into college, I'd felt that we were all a little more mature and too busy to make time for mocking each other, so I finally decided to try to add some muscle of my own to my frame. I figured there could be nothing hotter for a guy like me who loves to simply SEE muscle than to have some of my own that I could see any time I wanted. So, I decided to make use of the campus gym. Of course, being an amateur, at best, I was mostly guessing how to exercise. But I'll admit it did feel good to get these pumps going with my biceps and chest, and even my legs. I'd love to see the veins crossing all over my muscles as I worked them. And I was right, in college guys weren't really trying to make fun of me. I'd get some looks, sure, but no one ever said anything. And the gym was often pretty empty, anyway, since most of us were busy with studying and schoolwork. After a few weeks of trying to add my own muscle, I was starting to feel a little worn out and discouraged. I'd been doing my best, but I wasn't seeing any progress. I had a particularly hard workout one day, in spite of my discouragement, and upon entering the locker room, I saw another dude in there. It looked like he was getting ready to work out. He hadn't changed yet. I thought "Oh great. I'd better go to the opposite side of the locker room so he doesn't see how skinny I am." In spite of my success at remaining under the radar, I still had my fear of being mocked. Unfortunately, it wasn't a very large locker room, so even as far away from him as I could be, I could still see him well enough, and he could see me. I removed my sweaty T-shirt, and tossed it into my gym bag, and put on my clean one. I turned around and briefly caught a glimpse of the other dude, and... fuck. He was in front of the mirror, his sleeve pulled back, and was flexing his bicep. It was a really nice ball of a bicep, too. I did the classic double-take, and saw him running his hand over it. And then he proceeded to flex his other arm and do the same thing. Of course my dick started growing rock hard. And fast. I felt my cock head sliding across the fabric of my shorts, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through my entire groin and shivers down my spine. "Fine time to get horny," I thought to myself. I forced myself to look away from him, realizing further staring would get me noticed and I was already throbbing. I didn't want to start leaking, too. I sat down on the bench to remove my shorts and change into my jeans. I slid my shorts down, noting the unbearably obvious tent in my boxers. I couldn't help but enjoy the pleasure of feeling the hem of my shorts slide over my cock as I pulled them off. "Whoa...!" I heard it, and it took me way too long to realize it wasn't a sound that I had produced. I stood up, spun around, and pressed my back into the lockers, seeing the other dude had been right behind me. I saw his eyes, and they weren't meeting my face. They were staring down at my crotch, which I realized was still standing straight out. "Dude, that is one huge cock," he said. "W-what?" He finally look up into my face. "Your dick, dude. It's huge. I've never seen a dick that big." Trying to be nonchalant, I responded "Y-you haven't actually seen it, i-it's covered by my boxers..." "Shit, dude, it's still obviously huge, it's gotta be at least 7 inches!" He said. He was right, too, because like most guys, I've measured it. But I'd never really bothered to compare myself to other guys in that department. I'd always assumed I was average size. "And, uh, you could fix that right now, if you wanted. Lemme see it," he said. "Uh... I--" I started to say. But he advanced toward me, and my back was already against the lockers. I grabbed my boxers and pulled them down for me, and I was too frozen in place to even try to stop him. My dick bounced out of its confinement, my cock head red and full of fury. "Holy shit, dude," he said. "Can I...?" he asked, and before I even knew what exactly he was asking, he had his hand on my dick, squeezing it and stroking it. I felt myself shudder. My mind was showing images of this dude flexing his biceps just moments before this, and it was making my dick throb hard. But then he knelt down and began licking at the head, still stroking with his hand. "Fuck yes," he said while taking his mouth off for a moment, then proceeding to try to take all of my dick into his mouth. I heard him gag a bit, and I felt his throat close around my dick. But fuck, it felt really goddamn good. I'd never felt this much pleasure from my cock, before. He resumed his sucking, running his tongue all around me, my cock throbbing and twitching, "MMMMmmm yeah," I heard myself say, without meaning to. He seemed to take that as encouragement, and increased the fervor with which he was sucking. I rapidly felt the intense pressure of impending orgasm approaching, and I felt a tingling around my entire body. "Oh... Ahh!" I said, once again unintentionally. The pleasure was too great. It was intense as fuck, more intense than anything I've ever felt before. I felt him grab onto the backs of my legs and squeeze, and I knew it was time. I was cumming. The first shot exploded from my cock, and I use that word because that's what it felt like. An explosion of cum. I shot super hard. And more was about to come. But I also felt my dick swell, still in his mouth. It was insane. It was like my dick got harder while I was shooting a load. "Mmmf..." I heard from my pleasurer, and then another shot came. But this time I felt more tingling around my body, and suddenly I felt myself grow. My entire body swelled bigger. It was like getting an erection, but it was that feeling around my entire body. I saw my forearms grow thicker, and my chest pushed out, causing my T-shirt to tighten a bit across my formerly completely nonexistent pecs. "Unngnhhh" I breathed, trying to contain my expressions of exuberance. I felt another shot explode from the tip of my swollen cock, and he sucked it down his throat, eagerly swallowing as though it were life-giving water after having spent days in the desert with none. And again, I felt my whole body swell, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. It felt ridiculous. I'd have never imagined this feeling, not before, not ever. I looked down again at my forearms and they were writhing with veins and tendons, and they had the look of a gym-rat's forearms. The kind that showed a person was strong. Another shot blasted from my cock, and I knew it was dying off. I stood there, reveling in the feeling of having my dick sucked for the first time ever, by a stranger, no less, and even though I had already reached orgasm, it still felt amazing to have this jock sucking me off. He popped my still semi-hard dick out of his mouth, and while it shuddered and descended, he took his own muscled forearm and wiped it across his mouth. And he then stood up and looked me up and down, my lower half exposed still but my torso still wrapped with my T-shirt. "Dude, that was the best dick I've ever sucked," he breathlessly said, still eyeing me up and down. "You're a lot more fit than I thought!" I looked down at myself and saw that'd definitely grown some. My legs were definitely thicker, and I literally watched my forearms swelling with hard muscle as I blew my load down this guy's throat. I smiled sheepishly as I looked back at him and said "Thanks." We heard someone else entering the gym and we both turned our heads to the entrance of the locker room. He looked back at me and said "Maybe we can do this again sometime," and shot me a smile. "Sure," I said, not really realizing to what I was agreeing. Like I said, I'd never gotten a blowjob before, and this was a new experience for me. I was still in a stupor over what had just transpired. I grew. It was like all the work I'd put into my body had suddenly decided to take shape all at once, and the trigger was a blowjob. He turned and walked away, exiting the locker room. Turns out the people who had entered the gym were girls so we'd still have had our privacy for a while longer, but I was glad he decided to leave. I pulled on my pants and put the rest of my shit in my gym bag. I started to leave the locker room but, as I passed by the mirror, I couldn't help myself. I stepped backward a few steps and looked at my reflection. I saw wider shoulders and a new chest that was protruding outward a bit. Not a lot, but enough that I actually didn't look like a total weakling. I checked the entrance to the locker room again, as though it'd matter, and I quickly pulled the sleeve back on my right arm and flexed. I saw a nice little ball of muscle rise up, and a nice vein was protruding at the top. Definitely bigger than before. I smirked. I saw myself smirk. It felt great to flex and not feel ashamed of my own arm. I had an actual bicep. And I definitely wanted it bigger. I wanted all of me bigger. Part 2 ____________________________________________ Also, does anyone have any of my old stories saved from the Unfiltered section that used to exist? I'm not asking for it to be posted here or anywhere. I'm simply asking if someone would be willing to send me any copy they may have saved. Again, to be clear, not asking for it to be posted here. If you have them or even just one of them and would like to send me a copy, please send me a private message.

Hi, My name is Ken Austin (Instagram: ken_austin_fitness). I am a young jock guy into fitness and have very healthy lifestyle. Bodybuilding is my passion, but I am only interested of building a perfect body the natural way. I talked with a lot of worshiper in my life. I met Jeff by Instagram. we talked a lot during those few days of Coronavirus. We life far away but we want to meet one day to realise our muscle worship fantasies. Today’s story will be a fantasy that I imagined with him. Jeff is sitting in the living room. I joined him on the coach with a bowl of fruit, oat, and protein. I am wearing my pyjamas, a tank top as usual. I always needs to see my arms and my beautiful chest that I work hard on it. He is looking at me and say, Jeff: “We just had diner, why are you still eating”. Instantly, I flex my left arms to show him my biceps and add Ken: “To build bigger arms like this”. Jeff was always excited to watch me flexing and showing off. He gave me a look of excitement. I put the fruit bow on the table and gave him a double bicep flex. Instantly he starts putting his hands on both of my biceps and start caressing them. I gave him my superman biceps flex; I am flexing my right biceps and my left arms is pointing on the air. Jeff was touching me; we were both getting very excited. Ken: “Let’s go into the posing room” Jeff: “fuck yeah, you mad me horny” We go into the posing room. There is a 2 big mirror, side by side and very warm lights to be able to pose and show every muscle in their best advantage. Ken: “Sit there, behind the mirror and let’s practice my poses” Jeff love watching me striping and posing. I am purely exhibitionist and have this needs to show off a lot, sometimes too much. Too much would be like last time we went at the restaurant and I was bouncing my pecs to turn him on and check his hard on under the table with my foot. Let us go back to the story. I slowly start getting rid of my tank top and my pant. Once I am naked, I am dressing up with the poser. We both love to watch me posing with my poser like a real bodybuilder. I start oiling my self. Usually jeff love to oil me while I am flexing but today, I want him to watch first. I oil up all my body with a LOT of coconut oil as I like. Jeff is obviously getting excited and cannot stop looking at me. He have a major hard on in his pants. Same for me in my poser but I want to stay focus. I start posing, double biceps front, from the back, most muscular, side chest, etc. Jeff always correct my pose. We both wants me to show my muscles in their best advantage. We are both very horny right now. I workout my chest today while he was at work and I workout very hard as always to get worship. Muscle Worship is like candy for me. As always, I really need to be worshipped. I got rid of the poser. I place myself just in front of Jeff. Ken: “get on your knee and start worshipping my chest!” Jeff quickly executes. He starts caressing my chest slowly and sensually. I can see my big chest all pumped from posing getting worship. The sensation of the oil on my chest and those hands moving always drive me insane. I am slowly jerking off, edging. Ken: “Come on boy, you like my big pecs? Worship it! They are so perfect, right?” Jeff: “they are the best pecs I have ever touch, they are my muscles, they are my everything” Ken:” come on worship me, I am half-human, half-god, am I right? I deserve it!” Jeff: “you are my god, you are my everything, your pecs have all power over me. I need your big muscles for coming. Without them I cannot cum for real” I always been into this verbal muscle thing. Love to talk about my own muscles and being dominant. I am edging and I am getting very close. Ken: “Fuck my pecs are so fucking pump and big right now, keeps rubbing them, keeps rubbing my big fucking jock pecs, fucks I’m cumin!” I come watching my whole body all oil up, my beautiful face and my pecs with 2 small hands compare to my chest rubbing it. Right after I finished coming, Jeff let his dick out of his pants, start jerking off. I bend over and put my chest right on his face. He instantly come and I felt his come splashing on my body. I kiss his face all oil up. Ken:” tomorrow it’s an arm day”

Part 1 I looked like a damn fool. Or at least felt like one. I'd swear people were staring at me. I was walking back to my dorm after my first attempt at a real workout. Jack, the dude I only just met who's already proven to be a kind friend, worked me hard, although he seems to believe it was all me; that I was only pushing myself and he had nothing to do with how hard I worked. We had to agree to disagree on that one. I remember smiling big, though, as we walked out of the campus gym together. I'd felt accomplished. I felt more proud of the work I'd put in there than on any piece of school work I'd ever completed. Jack wanted to go straight to the cafeteria, but I looked like a hobo. I needed to go shower and get new clothes. I couldn't help but admit that even after working out, Jack looked good. He had a very clear athlete appearance to him, and no one could say his body wasn't aesthetically pleasing. His hair was a bit messed up thanks to his sweat, but it gave him that messy just-out-of-bed look and it was... cute, to say the least. I keep using the term "walk" in one tense or another. I wasn't exactly walking, which is probably part of why I kept getting looks from passers by. I was more like... hobbling. Or staggering. My legs were in pain. Jack showed me all kinds of leg exercises, and I pushed myself to not only learn every single one, but I worked hard with each one as well. "Never ever skip legs, bro," he said, "Trust me." Jack said I definitely worked harder than he did on his first night. But there was also my weird appearance. My jeans were still rolled up so my legs were exposed to the cold outside air, and my sweater was still wet with my sweat, while I carried my jacket in one arm. I must've looked like a weirdo. But I didn't really care, because I knew the end results would be worth it. They can stare all they want at me. They can watch me get bigger. Yeah, I'd say I was actually bitten by that iron bug. My mind was so focused on everything having to do with weight-lifting. But, part of me was also worried that I'd wake up the next day and find that I'd lost all the motivation and never try again. It was quite a tempest of thoughts in my head, and what surprised me was how none of it was about school work. I really just wanted to get back to the dorm so I could shower and then go eat. I really needed to get out of these clothes. Jack said I needed to make sure I ate as much as possible. Growing required food and lots of it. I basically tripped my way through the front doors of the dormitory, and then dragged myself up the stairs using the hand rails. I was thankful my dorm room was only on the second floor. I felt so done with moving when I finally got to my door, and I basically fell right to the floor as soon as I entered the room. But I also think I was being a little dramatic. I moved my way onto my bed and just sat there for a bit, staring into space, letting my legs regain feeling. They were throbbing, and had that burning feeling that hurt but felt so good at the same time. I imagined this is what a lot of gym rats meant when they talked about that "burn" and "feeling it." I was glad my roommate was still out. I didn't want to have to go on some explanation marathon about what just took place at the campus gym and why I was there. I oozed off the bed and put weight back on my legs and began removing my clothes. I lifted my sweater over my head and tossed it into the hamper, and then carefully peeled my jeans off my legs, the sweat making them feel stuck. My boxers were wet, too. Not a very comfortable feeling. In the hamper they went, too. I grabbed a towel and put it around my waist and snuck my way down the hall and into the showers. Luckily people weren't too active at this time, and I still wasn't comfortable showing my naked torso to others. I usually showered at less busy times of the day to avoid being seen. As of right now, I'd say the only person by whom I was comfortable being seen was Jack, which is still odd to me since I only just met him. Fuck. The shower felt good. I made it as hot as I could stand it. I stood there for a good while just letting the hot water run over my body. I didn't move. I had one hand on the wall and just leaned there, and it felt so good. But eventually I had to actually clean myself and get moving, since Jack was waiting for me. Or at least I hoped he was. He said he was. But then again, I can't say I'd blame him if he moved on to the rest of his day. I grabbed my towel and quickly dried myself off. My hair was a mess, but I didn't care. I checked to see if the coast was clear and moved as quickly as my legs would allow me to back to my dorm room. I re-entered the room, noticing my roommate was still not back, and dropped my towel. I had a mirror on my closet door, and I couldn't help but stand in front of it and check myself out. Yeah, I know, it's a dumb thing to do. I wasn't actually expecting my muscles to be any bigger. But I liked imagining it. I liked envisioning myself with bigger muscles all over. I never knew how much I was enticed by the idea of getting bigger until today. I was so scorned, I guess, by the douchebags from high school who'd used their growing bodies to intimidate and humiliate and bully that I'd never once considered the idea of making my own body bigger. But then I met this dude named Jack. I wondered to myself what I'd look like a month from now. Still in front of the mirror, I tried to imagine my body with maybe about 10 pounds of muscle added. I saw abs, and pecs protruding from my chest. I ran my hand across my chest, imagining how it'd feel to have hard muscle mounds there. As I bent my arm, I imagined what it'd be like to have a big bicep bulging out. I imagined what it'd be like to be able to fill a shirt sleeve with my entire arm, no space to spare. I imagined what it'd be like to be able to lift my shirt, showing my abs, and making girls swoon... and guys. It wasn't at all lost on me that as I pictured myself with muscles, my dick was hardening up and growing. I saw it expanding and rising in the mirror as I stood there completely naked. I was definitely getting into the mindset of being a gym rat. I raised my arms and flexed a double bicep pose for myself, showing what little muscle I had in my arms. I didn't care that I was still the same skinny guy as I was before, it just felt good to flex. My cock throbbed as I flexed. I reached one hand over and ran it across my flexed arm. It felt hard. I had no way of really knowing for sure, and it wasn't lost on me that I was probably just imagining it, but my arm definitely felt harder than it ever did before. I kept my arm flexed, looking into the mirror, and I continued imagining what it'd be like to have bigger muscles. My free hand moved down to my throbbing dick and began stroking. God it felt good. Actually, my dick felt harder than ever before, and I was almost certain it was because of the exercise I'd just put my body through. I imagined being big enough to flex my arm and make my sleeve rip in one of my old shirts. My cock throbbed hard on that thought, and my hips involuntarily bucked. FUCK. The feeling was so intense, and I felt like my eyes would roll back into my head permanently. I then thought back to when Jack flexed his arm for me and let me feel it. I remembered how hard it was, and how he had this thick vein running across the peak, and how his forearm was also clearly thick with muscle. I wanted to touch his entire body as he flexed for me... FUCK FUCK FUCK I was cumming! An image of Jack completely naked and flexing popped into my head and my dick just exploded all over the mirror, splattering it. I kept stroking, squeezing every last throbbing jolt of pleasure I could out, and I noticed I'd shot 4 whole times, with a 5th almost-shot that was really just a bit of dribble. I'd never cum so much before. I checked the time and realized it'd been way too long since we parted ways, and I felt like an asshole. Jack said he'd wait for me, and we never bothered to exchange numbers. If he was even still there, he'd probably be pissed. I quickly grabbed my sweater and used it to clean off the remnants of my orgasm from my dick and threw on some clothes. I put my shoes on and ran out the door, rushing and hoping Jack didn't get too impatient and eat without me. I didn't even realize I'd just shot cum all over my mirror and left it there.

This is a short story I've written inspired by the "self worship" thread (https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7756-self-worship/) - all about guys who are turned on by worshipping their own muscle bods. Check out this forum member's instagram who is the "Ken" of the story: https://www.instagram.com/ken_austin_fitness/. Ken Ken stood in front of the locker room mirror, his body covered in sweat and his pecs still heaving from the heavy work out. He couldn’t help pulling his pumped arms up into a double biceps pose. “Mmmm….FUCK!” he grunted as river-like veins popped up over his mounds of rock hard muscle. He held the pose, flexing harder and harder as more and more veins exploded under his skin, revelling in the power coursing through him. Soon, his arms were screaming in agony but still he held the flex, pushing himself, almost willing his muscles to grow even bigger. Just as he was about to pass out from the sensation Ken relaxed, letting his arms fall down by his side. A second later though he had pulled down the front of his vest, exposing his striated pecs which he then started to flex and bounce. “Look at these pecs,” he murmured under his breath as he hit each one in turn over and over, enjoying the feeling of the unyielding muscle under his fists. The sweat-soaked stringer vest had to come off. It was like Ken was in a trance as he pealed the vest up his torso and over his head before chucking it carelessly on the floor. He was lost in total self-worship of his amazing muscle body. Next Ken ran a hand up and down his cobbled 6 pack abs, flexing them hard under his fingers. “I’m a muscle God,” he moaned sexually as began to caress various muscle groups in turn – biceps…pecs…shoulders…abs…over and over, his hands continuously moving, his pumped body performing the most amazing muscle dance under his exploring fingers. He started to moan. Totally subconsciously. Lost. His cock was swelling. And swelling. Pressing out against his skin-tight gym shorts. Ken loved his body. He’d worked hard at it for this very reason. He loved being a ripped muscle God. Not caring that someone could walk in at any moment (‘Let them’, a subconscious part of his brain thought), he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his gym shorts and started to ease them down over the colossal mass of his thick tree-trunk-like quadriceps. This was some undertaking and Ken loved seeing the fabric stretch around the huge muscle bulk of his upper legs. Soon though he had them down and kicked off to somewhere on the other side of the locker room. Standing in front of the mirror still, he was now only wearing a jockstrap which failed to conceal the growing bulge of his thick muscle cock. “Look at these quads,” Ken growled as he flexed each one in turn. He loved the diamond shape which adorned the front of them and how they touched in the middle at the top of his legs, pushing his sizeable package forwards. This was why he lifted. This was why he wanted to grow and grow. “Total BEAST!” he roared, each of his muscles jumping out as his animalistic cry echoed around the locker room. He couldn’t wait any longer – the jock strap had to come off too. Ken nearly ripped it in his excitement, eager to be totally naked, everything on display. Soon his hand was wrapped around his growing cock as it quickly swelled to its full length and thickness. He started slowing jerking it, a now continuous stream of groans and moans escaping his lips. Ken’s other hand continued to explore his sweaty, pumped body, lingering over each sweaty striation, every rock-hard mound. “I LOVE MY MUSCLE BODY!” he roared. Surely people in the gym would hear him. Fuck it. Ken jerked his massive cock faster and faster. His moans were getting louder. He was a muscle animal, appreciating his own body. “Look at these massive pecs,” he groaned. His free hand kept coming back to them. Ken loved his pecs. He bounced them over and over under his exploring fingers. “Yes…SO STRONG…SO BIG!” he screamed as his cock erupted. Rivers of cum shot across the mirror, running down to the floor as Ken collapsed in a heap of pumped, sweaty Muscle God.

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.

Hey all, this is the first story I've actually bothered to see finished in a long time. It's been difficult writing, lately, and I don't expect this to be as well-received as some of my previous stories. But, I'm just happy to have finally finished something! So, let me know what you think. I hope it's at least somewhat enjoyable. OH! Also, this is a college story. No one is under 18. And of course it's entirely fictional, based on no real person or place. _______________________________________________________ He stood in front of us, visibly upset, breathing heavily, his chest and shoulders rising with his deep breaths. "You all think you're so smart, huh?" he said, the venom clear in his voice. "Well, maybe one day you'll see that not everyone is born to be your victim. Not everyone will take your shit lying down." "Dude, calm down, it was a joke," one of my friends said. And it really was just a joke, at his expense, of course, but a joke nevertheless. They... or I should say technically we just made fun of his thin size. Oh and we made several comments about him having a small dick. He really did have a small dick, though. Several of us had seen him naked in the shower. But this is what dudes do! We make fun of each other, give each other shit. We did to him nothing that we haven't done to each other. I was honestly confused why he was taking it so personally. Maybe he was far more insecure than he let on? "It's only a--ughh--joke if what you're saying isn't--rnnngg--true!" He had his hands clenched into fists, arms arched a bit, still breathing heavily. "But you know what? You'll see I'm a grower not a shower. Watch this." And then, to our uncomfortable horror, he put his hand on his crotch and began rubbing it. I say "horror," when really it was just one of those really weird and awkward situations where you have no clue what to do with yourself. Do you respond? Try to diffuse the situation? Look away? Walk away? My own mind was a tangled mess of nothingness. I felt the urge to look away but my eyes remained fixed on him, particularly his crotch where we could all see him rubbing himself with an intensity we're all surely familiar with. I mean, we all jerk off, no doubt. But here he was doing it in front of us. "Dude we've seen you hard, too. You're not that big then either so--" "Sam, dude, shut the fuck up!" I snapped. Apparently he was too dense to realize this wasn't a time to be an asshole. "Let him talk shit, it's okay. Mmmmyeahhhh..." I looked back at him and his crotch had a definite tent there. He was wrapping his hand around it and squeezing and rubbing it, and he looked like he was enjoying it. I felt myself starting to get a little hard, too. "Ready? Mmmm yeah... Watch." I noticed that none of us had turned away, averted our eyes, or anything. As uncomfortable of a situation this was, it seemed that we were all more curious about what he was trying to prove than anything else. But I'll admit I was enjoying watching him jerk off, even though he was still fully clothed. Something about it was enticing. I suddenly wondered, though... what was it that made him get hard? It almost seemed as though he willed it to happen. But then he took his hand away from his crotch and just stood there, eyes closed, head tilted back a little. He had a little grin on his face, and I suppose he truly was enjoying this, whatever it was. But then I looked back at his crotch, and his tent was super prominent. There was no mistaking he was hard. Wait... yeah, he was definitely clearly hard, but... why was I able to tell that? We all were a bunch of douchebags and pointed out how small he was. We've seen his hard dick. It would barely create a bump in his shorts. Now it's a prominent tent. "I see Jake's figured out what's happening," he said, thrusting his chin at me. "Uhhh..." I gulped. "We're... mere seconds away from seeing indecent exposure?" I tried to say it sarcastically, but I suddenly realized I was super nervous. Why was I nervous? I really ought to be repulsed by watching a dude make himself get a boner and partially jerk himself off. He flexed his dick and I couldn't believe what I saw. The tent bulged out farther. I heard some of the other guys gasp and a single "What the fuck..." Now I definitely was nervous. "Ohhhh yeah..." he moaned slightly, his hand moving toward his tent. But then he jerked it away, as though he's trying to restrain his impulse to touch himself. I guess we all know, as dudes, how it is, to want to jerk off when you're hard. "Fuck yes!" he suddenly cried. "It's happening! Are you guys watching?" We were all definitely watching. I think at first we were all sort of annoyed with his seemingly whiny outburst, but now we can all see there's a lot more to this than just whining. I think he may have wanted any excuse to do this, to be honest. "Mmmmm fuck," he moaned again, and we all watched the tent push out farther, and I heard a slight groan. It was his fucking shorts! His tent had grown so much, he was finally straining the front of his shorts! "Here we go... Unnnghhhh!" He clenched his fists, and... "POP!" A large, thick cock popped out of the front of his shorts. At first only the head was visible, but the cloth of the shorts receded and his dick became more and more exposed. He was pretty fucking big, now. He took his hand and pulled at the front of his shorts so more of his dick would be visible. He flexed it again, and yes, it grew even bigger, right before our eyes. "FUCK yes! Still think I'm tiny now?" And even as he said those words, his cock was ever so slightly still growing, and I realized I was staring at it intently. Protruding from the front of his shorts was his hard, throbbing, growing bigger dick. What the hell was happening? No one responded to his question. Did he actually want an answer? "Well?" I guess he did. "N-no, you're not t-tiny," I managed to squeak out. Why did I answer? Why? "What's with the stuttering?" he grinned. "I wouldn't think such a weak, small-dicked 'baby' would make you nervous, Jake." I cringed. He was using my own words. I'd actually called him that one time. It was forever ago, and he remembered. "I'm not... n-nervous..." I couldn't stop stuttering. But why was I nervous? I mean, yeah, this is very off-putting. But he just proved he's definitely a grower. So what if he has a bigger dick than we all thought? He probably took some Viagra and just had to prove us all wrong about his dick. He was still a skinny, weak dude. He simply laughed. "Well, whatever dude, I don't care." He looked down at his own dick for a few moments and flexed it again, and it bounced a bit and grew some more. FUCK! "Ohhhh yeah, it's coming. Are you watching? I can feel it." Some of us looked at each other, and I'm guessing we all were thinking 'what the fuck does he mean?' He wasn't about to cum, was he? He reached his hands down and started to stroke his big throbbing veiny dick. Yes, he needed both hands to cover it. He was lovingly rubbing his dick, back and forward his hands went, slowly. "Unnngghhh" he moaned. His movements were hypnotic, and I couldn't avert my eyes as I watched a dude jerk himself off. I suddenly realized I was harder than steel, myself. "It's happening. Ohhh yeahhhhhh..." he closed his eyes, moaning, and we all finally saw what he meant. What was happening. His entire body was growing. At first I thought I was imagining it, or maybe he was rising up on his toes, but he was definitely getting taller. Slowly but surely. His hands never stopped moving, and he continued growing taller, and he'd grown maybe three or four inches in height before I realized something else. His chest had begun to push out. "Holy sh--" I involuntarily spoke in a hushed voice, stopping myself just before getting the entire word out, not that it mattered since there was no hiding what was going to be said. "Yeah, just watch," he said. His arms had some veins snaking around them now, and I could see his forearms thickening, too. He was growing muscles! FUCK! How was this happening? My dick throbbed in my shorts, and I was immediately brought to realization that I was genuinely enjoying the show. Still growing taller, his arms thickening, his chest pushing out, I also noticed his calves were bulging, too. And his dick was still growing! His shoulders had begun to broaden as well, and I suddenly realized his shirts was getting tighter and tighter, and it was at this point I finally noticed his biceps. They were wrapped in the cloth of his t-shirt, when before the sleeves were loose with plenty of space to spare. "Fuck yeah, keep--unghh--watching..." he said, as he continued to stroke himself, his hands wrapped tightly around his throbbing rod. I watched as those sleeves got tighter and tighter, his arms growing with each stroke of his now huge dick. His traps were rising up, too, and soon that shirt was painted on his body, and he looked like he practically lived in the campus gym. "Oh fuck, fuck... fuck..." his stroking was becoming more rapid, speeding up, and so was his growth. It was like the faster he stroked his dick, the faster he grew. I glanced down and saw his calves were now fucking enormous, bulging out, making it clear he never skipped leg day. Wait, can I even say that? But then more groaning sounds came from his shorts, and I realized his quads and hamstrings had been growing, too. His shorts were tightly wrapped around his muscled legs, and thanks to his new height, we could even see the heads of his quads right above his knees. "Here it--unghh gunnnghhh-- oh it's coming!" His stroking was fevered and wild now, full-on jerking off. His shirt was so tight I couldn't believe it was still holding on. "It's coming!! I'M CUMING!" And he did cum. Oh did he cum. We could literally hear the first burst of cum shoot from his huge dick. It hit my friend David right in the face. "RIIIIIIIIIP!" His shirt finally tore down the middle, his heaving pecs protruding from the tattered cloth, and his biceps ripped the sleeves, a rend going all the way up to his cannon-ball shoulders. "POP! POP!" His legs exploded out of his shorts, each leg ripping up to his belt. More cum was still shooting from his dick, his muscles throbbing as he shot each blast of cum. He was deliberately aiming for us with his cum, hitting not just David before, but two of my other friends as well. Actually, he somehow missed me entirely, but got everyone else. And then his dick was simply dribbling cum, still very hard, though. Cum was dripping down his shaft, onto the hand still holding his dick, and dripping onto the grass. "You like that? HUH?!" He had a wild, somewhat evil grin on his face. "Who's fucking small and weak, now?!" His free hand not holding his dick rose into the air and flexed into a mind-shattering bicep peak, his shirt ripping further, all the way up to his collar until "SNAP!" it too ripped off, leaving the entire one side of his shirt to fall into tattered cloth dangling from what was left on the other side. And then came his other arm, finally releasing his dick, still semi-hard and staying aloft on its own, rising into the air and flexing into yet another huge bicep peak, destroying what was left of his sleeves on that side. His entire shirt fell, revealing what none of us could see to this point. A perfect set of 8-pack abs. Clenching and unclenching with his breaths, washboard enough to actually literally wash clothes on. "WHO'S FUCKING SMALL AND WEAK NOW?!" he asked again, and I guess he was looking for a real answer. It wasn't until now that I finally realized he was towering over us, too. He had a good foot of height over me, at least, and I know I was taller than most of my other friends. He was sure as fuck stronger than any one of us, now, too. Probably stronger than all of us put together. He started to walk towards us, his still semi-hard dick bouncing with his steps, and with each step, more small rips could be heard from his shorts as they struggled to hold on. "What? Y'ALL SUDDENLY GOT NOTHING TO SAY?!" "W-w-we are...?" David actually managed to respond, and I saw he was literally shaking. Was I shaking, too? I couldn't even find my own thoughts, much less feel my own body. "IS THAT A FUCKING QUESTION?!" He reached down and picked David up by the front of his shirt and tossed him across the grass a good ten to fifteen feet. David quickly scrambled to his feet and ran, clearly not caring in what direction since his dorm was in another direction. "GET. THE FUCK. OUT. OF HERE!!" he shouted to the rest of us, and I didn't need to be told twice. I was somehow surprised I'd managed to stick around this long. "OHHhh no, where the fuck do you think you're going?!" he half shouted, grabbing me by the front of my shirt and lifting me off the ground like David, his bulging biceps flexing into gigantic relief from his massive arm. I closed my eyes, bracing myself, prepared to be tossed away. "You're fucking retarded, you know that?" he said, still holding me in the air. I opened an eye, only one eye, and saw his scowling face looking up into mine. Was this another question he wanted answered? How could I fucking know? "Such an asshole," he continued, "Can't see what's in front of you. I've been in love with you for ages now, and you're so concerned with keeping appearances you've never let yourself realize you're fucking gay." He reached out with his other hand and grabbed my crotch which was, yes, still hard, and leaking, too, apparently. "So now what do I do with you?" he asked. I honestly had no clue how to answer that question, even if I could muster the strength to.

Check out the previous four parts here: Part 5: The Changes Are Everywhere “No…..no…..stop moving…..I will have to kill you…..I warned you…..uhhhh” Before the dream goes any further, Valentin always wakes up. He has had to revisit it over and over again for weeks, maybe even months at a time. Those few crazy weeks from a couple of years ago where he had to vanquish Domino, Carlos, and a few others keeps being replayed in his mind for some reason and he can’t quite figure out why. He is breathing heavily from where the dream ends and has once again soaked the bed in Bulgarian sweat. A cool breeze is flowing through his Canadian apartment but it isn’t enough to stop the steam emanating from his naked olive skin. He jumps to his feet and walks over to the bathroom light to turn it on. He stares into the mirror and places his right hand over top of the scars he received from that day. Sometimes he wonders if having an immunity to all were viruses is a curse rather than a blessing. He hasn’t spoken to his wishmaster in several years and thinks that maybe he should go visit him in the near future to show him what has resulted from the gift he gave him. For now though, he needs to focus all of his energy on not only stopping the new lycanthrope invasion, but also to build himself up physically. He is scanning his hairy wet body with his hazel-colored eyes and is noticing how much bigger he is now compared to where he was before he started taking the serum. It was formulated for him by Dr. Genesis, a man he met last year after making the move to Canada. The man was given a book that was found at the company where the original lycanthrope massacre occurred. It was discovered by Nathan and Roman after most of the dead bodies were taken to the morgue in a false wall. It appeared that Domino and the organization he worked for were trying to hide their scientific secrets from the Bulgarians fearing that it would end up in the hands of someone in Sofia. The three men managed to get out the facility before the emergency personnel got there. At the time, nobody could understand why the van was completely destroyed, but later on they would get their answer. They ended up having to hide in a nearby storage facility by breaking into one of the units. They stayed there until morning when Valentin told the other two men that they needed to find a way out of the city before they would be sought by the authorities. They agreed and went their separate ways from the Bulgarian. That would be the last time he would see them. He also thought it would be a good idea to keep a low profile for a while so he disappeared. He however also realized after that ordeal that he would need to focus more on matching up with his opponents and not letting them overtake him anymore. He immediately started a new training program shortly after in solitude. He was decently built from when he had to deal with Domino’s wolfy side since he knew that he would probably have to protect himself if something were to go wrong through their interactions. He is now rubbing his left hand along each of the other scars he has earned since the massacre located on his thick, furry pecs and the huge slabs beneath them. He is amazed that he has been able to transform himself into the man that he is now. “I am still learning more about myself every day it appears. I wonder how much further I can go with this serum.” He takes his right hand off of his wide neck to do a few flexes in the mirror with his arms. He leans in to stare at the huge garden hoses bulging from his softball-sized forearms as they stretch all the way up to his furry bloated shoulders. He stops flexing to look down at the sink and picks up a vial full of a clear fluid. He unscrews the dropper from the top and sticks it up to his mouth. He opens and lifts his tongue to place two drops of the fluid underneath before closing his mouth and screwing the dropper back on to the top of the vial. He puts it down back to where it was sitting and stands back about a foot from the mirror. He is completely nude as he turns to his side and then turns slightly to take a look at his backside as it is aimed at the mirror. He starts flexing again, this time to make his back flare outward. He still can’t fathom how he got this big so quickly. He has seen a few bodybuilders up in Canada pose like this so he wanted to know how it felt since he is getting to their level. He can feel his lats pushing his arms out even further to his sides as his delts and traps swell even bigger than before he took the serum just now. He can feel the hormones starting to flow through him and it is making his cock expand and lengthen as a result. Before he started taking the serum several months ago, he was never able to precum, but that all changed after just a couple of doses. A small ribbon of the sticky goo is slowly rolling down the side of his shaft and it is coating his swollen golf-ball sized testicles. He is feeling pretty good now. He is now flexing his furry quads and hamstrings, watching the thick striations in both legs ripple and glisten in the light. The layer of dark-colored Bulgarian fur is much thicker than he remembers, but he loves that he is able to cover what used to be barren areas of his body. The sensations from the serum are now traveling from his crotch all the way down to his feet. He loves the way the serum makes him feel after having a stressful dream, and it is more pleasurable than using his own hand on his cock. He is proud of growing his huge ass from all of those grueling squats he has endured over the past several months as well. He rubs both glutes with his hands and caresses the fur that is over top of them. He checks his anus and makes it wink a couple of times and chuckles to himself. He found out that he preferred being a bottom back when he was with Domino, but with his thicker frame now, it has opened the door to new possibilities including overpowering bigger lovers. He grunts feeling his balls filling up with fresh cum and it is now making his ass ache. He really needs to be with someone at that moment that can put him over the edge and not let it be a complete waste of time. Posing in front of a mirror is nice once in a while, but he is feeling pumped and exceptionally horny after taking this dose for some reason. He knows exactly who he needs to call. He stops staring at himself and leaves the bathroom to go find his cell phone. His hard 9-inch cock is slapping his hairy six slabs of granite with each leap he makes through the room making them contract as they sling precum through each abdominal gap all the way up to the underside of his meaty pecs. He takes one of his fingers to lap up a bit of it and places it on his tongue. He sighs briefly before reaching down to get the phone from his end table and dials up a close Canadian friend that he knows. “Lenny…..what is wrong? For you to call me at this hour, it has to be important eh?” “You could say that Wilson, I am feeling the need for some company. If you know what I mean baby?” The Canadian grunts a few times and laughs. “Ohh, I know exactly what you are telling me. I will be there in a bit, don’t you dare spill any of that cum while I am not there. It is always better to share, right?” Val’s entire body is glistening with sweat as he hangs up the phone and puts it back on the end table beside his bed. His balls are swelling now making his ballsac stretch and hang further down in between his immense legs. He can feel his asshole pulsing in anticipation of being penetrated. He decides to walk over and stand beside his apartment door to wait for Wilson. He is rubbing his hands on his massively veiny 22-inch guns and flexes his giant horseshoe triceps to trace his fingers on them. He can’t remember the last time he has been entranced so much by his own body as he continues to preoccupy himself. He remembers that Wilson hasn’t seen him for a while and will be surprised to see how much bigger he has grown since their last outing together. After ten minutes of standing there entertaining himself and leaking a puddle of pre on the floor, there is a heavy knock on the door. An incredibly deep masculine voice rumbles a few words on the other side. “Your savior is here man. Let this beast in and we can get the show started, don’t you agree?” His voice alone sends sensations up and down Valentin’s well-muscled back as he cracks the door open just enough to take a look at the Canadian lumberjack, who has his enormous left arm sitting on the door frame and his right boot is tapping the ground. Wilson is even bigger than he remembers him. He is wearing a plaid top with just three buttons on the top of it, beneath the longest mane of hair Val has seen on a man. He can tell that the top button is undone and quite frankly it would have been launched airborne anyway if it had in fact been buttoned. His chest is so wide that the two other buttons are struggling to stay intact. His breathing is labored which isn’t unusual for him because he has a tendency to make “errs” and “rrraahhhs”, even when he isn’t talking. He again notices how well-groomed the Canadian’s mane is and how it stretches halfway down his bloated pecs and thick muscle gut. Wilson immediately notices that Valentin has cracked the door open and is laughing. He walks over to him and reaches in with his right arm, where his bloated right bicep is literally starting to break the chain on the door. He is petting the wet Bulgarian’s huge ass and sighs in his ridiculously deep Canadian accent. “EEERRRRMMMMM, I will break this door down Val to get to you. You are making me FUCKING HARD as a tree trunk right now. RRRRAAAAHHHH!” Wilson feels the right sleeve on his shirt rip all the way up to his traps and he loves every second of it. Other tenants are now opening their doors to see what is going on. The volume of the big hulk’s voice is attracting unwanted attention now. He turns to look at all of them with a mean look on his face. “Go back into your rooms. This has nothing to do with any of you. Me and the gentleman are together, you got it?” The latch on the door finally gives way as it flings open. Wilson’s beautiful green eyes enlarge seeing Valentin and his even more incredibly huge muscular body. He walks in and quickly closes the door before locking it behind him. He then reaches down with his bloated right hand and starts slowly ripping his shirt off. The Bulgarian knows how much his Canadian friend loves to savor his power and why clothing is no match for him. It only takes a few seconds before he manages to tear it completely off his insanely huge, hairy, hulking upper body. He motions for Valentin to come to him. “Come over here and let’s compare. I want to know what it feels like to have our chests pressed up against each other.” Val wastes no time as he walks over to him and tries to line up his pecs with his Canadian counterpart’s. Their erect nipples are pretty close in alignment barring a few pounds of course since Wilson’s chest is probably a few inches larger. The nips meet a few times sending ripples through both hulk’s bodies. The Canadian moans deeply feeling their pecs pressing up against each other feeling their heartbeats align as he marvels at how much his friend has grown since the last time he saw him. Their faces are nearly a foot apart and it is really starting to heat Wilson up. “FFFUUUCCCKKK! ERRMMM….” He looks down and notices how tight his pants are and wonders how much longer they can withstand the beast throbbing within them. His cock is being coaxed by his partner’s, which is touching the flap that leads to his zipper. He smirks a little and looks back up at Val. “I would tear these pants off right now, but I rather like them. It isn’t easy to find comfortable clothing to wear over top of these giant logs, you know?” He slowly undoes his well-worn pair of jeans to make his beastly monster flop out to smack the Bulgarian’s own meaty tool. He then pulls them down below his thick ass and hamstrings, while at the same time, kicking his boots off into different directions, before finally tossing them to the side. He moves back up into the same position again and is rubbing his 11-inch rod up against Val’s slightly smaller one. He lets out a grunt as a stream of pre shoots out of his slit and runs down both of their cocks. The sensation on Valentin’s cock is enough for him to spill a bit too as they begin mixing fluids together making both of them moan deeply. “I haven’t been this turned out in months Lenny. Let’s not waste another moment eh?” He immediately reaches down to pick up his partner around the waist with a giant bearhug and has to stabilize his back a bit to adjust to Val’s noticeable weight difference. The excited Bulgarian lets out a loud sigh which makes his Canadian counterpart respond with a deep growl. They are staring into each other’s eyes while Wilson moves his giant hands down to Val’s immense ass to cup both glutes. “RRRRAHHH! You are FUCKING beautiful Valentin, never more so than at this very moment.” For a few seconds, the huge musclebear feels a bit lightheaded from the extreme rush he is experiencing and realizes that the beast inside him is probably trying to surface so he closes his eyes to try and keep from showing his anxiety. “OHH SHIT…..I can’t let him out right now. I will end up destroying…..” Valentin stops him from continuing his train of thought long enough to slide himself over top of the Canadian behemoth’s bloated cock, teasing it along his hole for a few seconds, making the big hulk grunt deeply, before slowly pushing it inside his aching hole. He gasps feeling the raging power of the beast swelling inside him as he tries desperately to get the behemoth to stop worrying. He reaches up to yank on Wilson’s thick brown mane and stares directly into his big green eyes. “Focus on ravaging me, you big hunky bear, and he won’t come out. I can handle anything you do to me now, but you are right, the inner beast probably would hurt a lot of people if he decided to make an unexpected entrance.” After making several deep growls, Wilson quickly wraps Valentin’s legs around his mammoth torso and begins to deeply thrust inside him. Their eyes remain transfixed on each other as they move their way over to the bed. The Bulgarian turns his head around to look at it and smirks. “I don’t really want to buy another bed again beast, it will cost me…..” “SHUT UP Lenny, I will get you another one, okay?” Wilson quickly hops onto the bed as it crashes to the ground before getting down on his knees still holding his partner. He positions Val’s lower body to sit on his heaving chest while he continues to pound his lover into oblivion. The energy is intensifying now that they are finally in a place where they can concentrate on pleasuring each other, even though Valentin wants to be able to feel Wilson’s muscles. The lusty bottom looks up at him and wants to feel his partner’s face, but he can’t reach it in that position, so he motions for the Canadian to lean down to plant a kiss on his lips. “I would kiss you Lenny if I could, but I can’t reach your mouth. *laughs deeply* However, I can compensate by pumping you full of so much cum that you won’t be hungry for days. Does that sound like a good alternative, eh?” He decides to slow his rhythm down so he can keep pulling out to watch Val’s gaping hole pulse and his own power tool throb wildly. The synchronicity between them is almost trancelike as this continues for what seems like eons. He has finally found another man that can keep up with his endurance and he doesn’t want to waste it so he keeps promising that he will cum soon only to make his partner moan again when he plugs him for several more jabs. He finally feels the flood moving from inside his balls to his shaft after about thirty heart-pounding minutes of power fucking. Val own cock is a deep purple and it is making him lose his mind from the abuse his prostate has been enduring. Wilson yells out a few “rrraaahhhs” before shoving his thick rod as far in as he can possible go. The volume of his cum floods Valentin’s insides and makes the equally impressive bottom spray himself with his own violent load. They are both absolutely spent from this session as both of the behemoths lie in place breathing heavily as they remain locked together. The bald-headed Canadian starts to pull his cock out, but Val stops him. “No, leave it in there beast. It will keep the other you from trying to come out. You remember the last time we had a round like this don’t you?” Wilson’s thick mane and veiny head is lying on his own heaving pecs as he starts laughing and grunting at the same time. “HA HA HA! You have a point there stud. *has trouble catching his breath* I have to stand back up though Lenny. I’m sorry. I wish I could sit here for a while longer, but I am having so much difficulty with my breathing that I need to get up.” He quickly pulls out of his partner’s hole and tries to lift himself off the ground on his own accord, but fails. Now both of the hulks are trying to help each other up to their feet, flexing their arms to balance their weight so they can get up at the same time. After about a minute of struggling, they finally manage to get up and rub each other down a few times. Their eyes lock on each other once again. “Pick me up big lug so we can finally kiss. I have wanted to lock my lips on yours since I have seen you tonight. I know we don’t have much time if you are feeling “him” coming along.” Wilson grins and his eyes widen as he wraps his arms around Val’s thick and veiny waist and lifts him just above his pec shelf. They lean in to each other and match up with each other’s mouths, which is more difficult than you would imagine. The Bulgarian has to part a few strands of hair in the Canadian’s bushy beard before he can do so. The beastly man shoves his tongue down his partner’s throat as they finally kiss each other. It is a passionate and rewarding kiss as they both moan deeply into each other; while holding each other’s heads with one hand and their other hand on each other’s pumped necks. This lasts for about another two minutes before Val finally motions for Wilson to let go so he can climb down off of the hairy behemoth. “I have missed you beast. I had to show you what the serum has done for me over the past few months and I knew that you would approve once you got a look at my results.” Wilson is still sweating like a fiend despite the fact that the room has cooled even further from when he got there. Valentin has seen his partner do this more than once and knows what will happen if the Canadian doesn’t get out of there soon. “It is FUCKING awesome what it is doing for you baby, I want to see you BLOW UP into something that barely resembles a human. Don’t you want that, eh? I mean…..you might actually get there if you continue with these treatments. We really need you to get as MASSIVE as possible because we need you badly in the were community.” He can now feel “him” at the pit of his stomach as he reaches down to clutch his wet, hairy, distended eight-pack. Val quickly rushes over to open the doors to the balcony so he can get his partner outside. The air is even colder now as they both make their way to the edge of the bannister on the seventh floor. Wilson is gripping the rail with his huge hands as he leans his head over towards the ground. Val has positioned himself to be about three feet away from him to keep his distance in case there is a problem. He can hear his friend growling under his breath, and in a weird way, it is exciting him. The Canadian hulk is looking over at him and shakes his head a few times. “I sometimes wonder if the real reason why you are so interested in me is because of the other me. *shakes his head and does a few more “errs”* SSHHIITT….. *stomps his big feet a few times* It shouldn’t feel like I am about to have a full body orgasm, but it does…..” Val’s cock is bouncing up and down because it can sense the changes that are about to commence inside the Canadian behemoth’s body. He is aware how dangerous Wilson will be once the transformation is complete, but he also hopes that his massive lover can rein in the beast better than in previous instances. He has been attempting to merge with the monster from within his skin for quite some time, and hopefully this time it will happen without his friends getting hurt in the process. Wilson’s beard is gradually falling off his face now as his hands and feet start cracking and popping loudly. He is growling and groaning yanking on the balcony railing until it nearly comes off its hinges. Valentin is transfixed on what is happening to them as his partner’s fingers and toes are being broken off his body as four dark, hulking, paws quickly push forward to replace them. He is in agony, but still manages to get a few words out. “RRRRAAAAHHHH FFFUUUCCCKKK! Ahhh, I don’t even feel pain anymore Lenny. I don’t want to look at them…..I know it has to be a FUCKING mess, eh? I felt all of them break off and yet I didn’t…..” He stops moving to arch his huge back as vast amounts of dark brown fur start to accumulate just beneath his skin. He almost laughs as his already immense muscles in his back begin growing even larger as they start to double up on each other. He is trying to brace himself feeling the werebear taking over his entire body. He is still staring at his lover, frothing at the mouth now as it struggles to stay in its human form. His teeth are breaking off revealing his growing incisors and fangs as they tear his face apart. His flesh is being decimated as all of his muscles are barely visible beneath his new covering. The crunching and stretching of his gigantic muscles is making the balcony unstable as his human form finally surrenders to the more ferocious beast emerging. His new paws have grown to twice their original size now as the skin that is remaining on his body completely rips completely off, exposing the newly formed brown carpet that is now covering his entire gigantic growing frame. The huge cock that was dangling between his legs has been completely covered over by a thick sheath that now resides beneath the hulking bear gut he is growing. His thickly muscled paws are growing claws that probably measure nearly two feet long. The shape of his skull is the final area that is changing as it cracks and pops several times to make room for his newly formed ears and the thick muzzle that is growing outward to accommodate the giant teeth that now reside within his mouth. He has never stopped looking at Valentin throughout the entire process which has made the mesmerized Bulgarian both terrified and horny. The balcony’s bannister is breaking off under the weight of were Wilson’s giant bear legs as it falls down to the sidewalk underneath them. There is barely anything that is even remotely human about the Canadian now, as he tries to stand up on two of his four monstrously huge hulking tree trunks that have just finished transforming. Val is quite dazed after seeing his partner change from being a giant hairy hulk into a larger, furrier, and much more dangerous version of his self. He can still see Wilson’s beautiful green eyes from inside the beast’s head, which does give the Bulgarian some pause because he doesn’t remember that ever happening before. He moans feeling a giant load in his balls building up as the massive, 12-foot, 1,500 pound behemoth that is in front of him attempts to lunge for his body with its claws. He jumps out of the way though and lands back inside the apartment as the werebear loses its footing and goes over the edge of the balcony and falls onto the ground beneath them. Val spills his load all over the floor and loses consciousness as the sounds of cars being smashed to pieces and sirens going off in the distance are heard everywhere throughout the city. End of Part 5

Hi guys, here’s another chapter of Jeff. This time a heavy chest workout with a hot muscle frenzy in the middle Hope u like it. Here’s the link to the previous chapters: Jeff’s Shredding Freakshow: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9150-jeffs-shredding-freakshow Jeff: How it all started: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9193-jeff-how-it-all-started -------- 21/05/2016 10:30 am – NYC Jeff had one of “those” days: Those days where his mind had remembered his life: where he had reached, how he had gone from a skinny teenager to a grotesque freak of nature. Those thoughts about his progress, his growth, his natural (or unnatural) genetic variation, that transformed him into an almost skinless shredded freak. Those thoughts got him brutally horned up, since he woke up. And he knew what could satisfy him the most: one equally brutal, intense and insane workout. So he had a HUGE breakfast, with the biggest hard on ever in his pants, and got ready for gym. Still with the heavy breakfast in his stomach, Jeff was heading there. It had been a really good choice: the gym was meant for heavy lifting, but it wasn’t located in the best zone of NYC for that. Instead of heavy bodybuilders, there were lots of mid-aged women trying to keep in shape for his millionaire husbands. There were also some guys into lifting, but not in a hardcore way. But none of that really mattered: when Jeff appeared in the door, most of the people went their homes, and left the whole gym almost for him. Jeff knew the reason: the sole image of his freaky body disturbed them. Some stayed there for some minutes, half mesmerized, half scared, but none of them remained in the gym for more than half an hour, time enough for Jeff to get into his muscle frenzy workout. He knew his capabilities, his natural gift for training and building muscle: no carbs, no workout; but he burned it so fast he had to keep on eating during his workout. A high accelerated metabolism that let him take 100% advantage of each ounce of carbs, and once he stopped, removing any remaining fat in his skin and muscles. So that’s why he carried a huge meal with himself in the gym: 2lbs of rice, chicken, along with the bottle of supplements he needed every 15 minutes. He got into the gym and said hello. As usual, the owner didn’t cheered him back, who would like anyone emptying his gym in 30 minutes? Jeff didn’t take much time to prepare: he wanted to train as soon as possible. He had only one though in his head. “You fucking freak, it’s time to explode those pecs. Fuck I just can’t wait to feel them pump, feel the fibers tear apart, in the most freaky grotesque condition any human has reached”. He drank his first supplements, stuffed his meal in the locker and went to the weights room. He was only wearing his tank top, a XXXXL size that was fucking small for his frame, and looked like a second skin (or a first skin, since his real one was thinner than the fabric), and a pair of shorts, really short ones, with no underwear, who could barely contain his boner. And he didn’t care of that: he was high for his muscles, for his workout, for himself, all he could think about is how he was going to look in just a few minutes, and the freak he’d turn into in the 3 hour workout. He passed by the corridor who lead to the weights room, full of mirrors in both sides. But he did a huge effort not to look at himself. “Go on Jeff, focus!!! Don’t look at yourself yet, you have to start training NOW” But then he got into the weights room… and lost his mind. Mirrors everywhere, from the floor to the ceiling, gave him a reflection of his freaky body from every angle. He made a strong effort not to start posing and look at every muscle group, and headed to the seated bench press machine, but then he looked at himself at the mirror and focused on those pecs. “Oh my fucking god Jeff, you’re a fucking freak!” The pecs were almost fully visible, since his tank top was a really small one. It left visible the whole pecs, even the upper abs, and just covered a small trim by the tank braces. The insertions in his delts were freaky visible, even in a relaxed state, the tight thick tendon supporting the whole muscle and making the fibers flow from it, expanding to the rest of the muscle and forming freaky insertions in his sternon. His former trainer, Andy, had refused to go on training him because he thought he was pushing himself too much, that his health was in risk, so much tension on his bones and tendons could break them. But he didn’t care about that. He went on exploring his pecs, from the collarbone, the clavicles, down to the abs. The thickness of the pecs shocked him in the mirror, and looked down to watch directly at them, and all he could see was MUSCLE. “Awwww look at these freaks, man. You’ve got here two big balloons of muscle”. The sight got him harder. MUSCLE and more MUSCLE. Two immense balloons of muscle that didn’t let him look at his abs or his feet. He could see the cleavage, fucking deep, like a canyon surrounded by walls of muscle fibers. He focused on the insertions of the fibers in the bone, freaky visible, the thick tendon who ran along the cleavage was supporting so much force that is was popping out of his skin. He got his left index finger, sucked it up, getting it really wet, and used it to follow the line of insertions of the left pec fibers in the tendon. Millions, billions, of fibers inserting in a freaky tendon, feeling them with his wet fingers, got him harder again. “Aw Jeff, you’re such a grotesque and disgusting monster. But I fucking love this feeling, being such a peeled freak. Come on” Then he hit a big hard crunch on the right pec. He felt the nutrients he had eaten at breakfast flowing through the muscle to make it contract like hell. The right pec exploded and almost doubled its normal relaxed size. He could see the fibers growing, thickening, pulling the tendon hard, raising it up to release some tension on the bone, and the immense wall of muscle getting freaky thick, cut, higher than the left one, his finger stuck in the middle of it. He took the finger off the cleavage, hit a second crunch with his left one, joining both hands down in his abs and saw the second pec EXPLODE again. “Awwww that’s it u fucker!!! Now it’s enough, now let’s get these babies grow freak” He sat in the bench press and placed the plates at 300lbs. “Just a warm up” He didn’t use his leg to push the helping pedal and make the grip get at a normal position. Instead of that, he moved his hands back back back, in an impossible position to start pushing 300lbs. As he did that, his muscle fibers stretched like hell, his skin suffering an impossible tension, the tendon about to break apart, but he could finally get the grips. The look of his pec was impressive: the stretch had made his skin get even thinner, he could see every fiber, every vein under the skin, thickening to nourish the muscle with blood and carbs. And then he started pushing. The first push was almost bone crushing. He hit a loud roar as he started contracting the pecs. He could feel the impossible tension in the sternon and shoulder tendons, but didn’t care. His external fibers started pulling his arms, some of the fibers just broke, and he could hear that. “Aw fuckkkk that’s it let’s go with it”. He kept pushing and the grip moved effortlessly, making the whole muscle work, contracting in an impossible way, destroying thousands of fibers. His veins thickened to add more blood to the muscle, the muscle smoothed a bit from all that extra blood that his muscle needed to do the rep. As he was reaching the top he arched his back to add more pressure to his lower pec fibers, to make them work as well. He finally pushed to the top and looked at his reflection “Fuck I can’t even look at me”. The brutal growth of his muscle in the very first rep had almost covered his face against the mirror. He had to raise his head to be able to see and what he saw shocked him like hell. “No way, that can’t be me!!!! Whoooa u fucker, u did it again”. That wasn’t a though, he just said it alout.The few people that remained in the gym turned to watch the freak show in the machine. The sight from his position was shocking. His lower fibers were almost bursting out of his skin, freaky visible, the two upper abs were popping like hell, as if the exercise was meant for them. The rest of the abs were covered by the fabric of the tank top but he could see them clearly through the fabric. Popping like hell, covered in veins, even the shreds were visible. His nips were freaky disgusting, looking apparently normal but surrounded by billions of tearing muscle fibers, contracted to the max. “Now let’s do the show”, Jeff thought, and let the weight go down again, slowly, using the remaining carbs in his pecs to work them out while returning to the initial position. His fibers were stretching more and more, as he let the weights go down, but he didn’t stop in a natural starting position, no way, he let the weights go down down down again, his hands going back back back, until he stretched completely the muscle, tearing another hundred of fibers in that movement. And he repeated it again “Hit it, grow”, those were his words while pushing. He didn’t count the reps, he just kept pushing and pushing until he felt satisfied and full of blood. “Hit it grow”, he went on repeating those words aloud, like a mantra, with each rep. Each one getting him harder and hornier, losing his mind, and getting into the frenzy that he knew it was coming. “Hit it, grow”. He closed his eyes, and started visualizing his veins thickening, the fabric stretching, he heard a loud tearing sound and he knew the fabric couldn’t support the pressure and broke apart somewhere “Hit it, grow”, the burn in the muscle was painful, terrible, like a torture, but all he could think was on repping. “Hit it, grow”, he could feel the pecs fibers tearing apart, regenerating almost instantly thanks to his amazing genetics and the supplements, and making the pecs grow like hell. “Hit it, grow”, some heavy drops of sweat were running through his canyon cleavage, some others slowly ran over his over sensitive nipples, giving him a gentle tickle on them. “Awwwwww fuck my nips man, I need some work on them.” He went on “Hit it, grow”, the feeling on his nipples was getting too intense, weirdly intense, extremely horning. Then he opened his eyes and saw the owner of the gym, with a weird look, and his tongue out, working Jeff’s nips. That sight didn’t shock Jeff. He never thought the owner could want to do that, and it was probably because he was out of himself, his eyes were not those of a “normal” person, but a disturbed, crazy, devoted, in a trance one. But Jeff didn’t even care of that, he went on repping for 10 long more minutes of muscle development and nip work. When he finished he was already in a trance, frenzy, he didn’t know what that was. He couldn’t even think of anything, his movements were quite automatic, robotic ones. He stood up, looked at the mirror and saw the huge tear in his tank top at his upper abs. He grabbed the fabric and tore it apart, exposing his whole torso to the owner and no one else, because he had, again, emptied the gym. He gave himself a long look of his pecs. The pecs had doubled their size, each one would probably weigh 45lbs, nips pointing down, dripping sweat, carbs and the fat that his genetics was getting rid of. Slowly but continuously drying out, transforming his huge ballooned pecs into two slabs of freaky cords, tendons, veins, muscle fibers and an almost inexistent skin. The look was absolutely DISGUSTING, GROTESQUE, INSANE, INHUMAN, DISTURBING, but FUCK HE LOVED IT. He smiled at the peeled monster in the mirror and started his muscle frenzy. He extended his arms out, bulging muscles everywhere in his forearms, triceps and the huge biceps, then slowly with an evil grin look started moving them down, making the chest RIPPPPPPPLE from the bottom to the top. The fibers started crushing at the lowermost, the huge wave of muscle moving up. When it got to the nips, the wave made them roll up and point straight, horizontal, surrounded by those freaky and sinewy fibers. When it got to the midsection he crunched it harder, making each pec literally divide into two, and the deep dimple in the external side of the muscles looking like a cave. The wave moved up, getting to the top and forming a huge deep immense long cut along his collarbone, so thick and so deep everyone could fuck and cum into that cut. “Now that’s MUSCLE Jeff!!!!” He looked at the whole picture and got a huge wet spot in his already tight pants. He started oozing precum by gallons, wetting the whole fabric and making it drip to the floor. Then he noticed the owner, sitting there in a corner, next to him, his eyes lost, his cock out, jacking off furiously, with a painful but horned look, shaking his hips to enforce his jackoff, moaning loud, like complaining for not being able to cum. “Aw yeah yeah man. Jeff, this is what you need now. Someone to freak out” Jeff turned to the owner, his huge gigantic pecs still flexed. Relaxed his pose and got into a “normal” status. What Jeff called normal was an insane bunch of shredded beef everywhere, sinews, cords, tendons and veins popping everywhere He removed his shorts and exposed his snake cock, veiny as fuck, precum dripping off his slit non stop. The owner went crazy when he saw him fully naked, bulging everywhere, that monster muscle god in front of him, those pecs pumped like no one else in the world could have. Jeff started walking towards the owner, slowly, with an incredible self confidence who would make anyone crap. The owner got more nervous, his jackoff rate increasing. “That cock is gonna hurt tomorrow”. The manly voice of Jeff made the owner shake his head, and jack off more and more. Then Jeff started his freaking routine, what he called his muscle frenzy, and started hitting pose after pose, just for that poor guy laying there, unable to control his hand. “Let’s see if you can resist this” He started placing his right leg a bit forward, raised his feel and bent his knee. The gigantic leg was smooth but he could see the cuts under the skin. He started shaking the leg, from side to side. 50lbs of muscle moving like hell in front of that poor guy and then “TAKE THIS U FUCKER!!!!” He crunched the leg and the movement stopped in a sudden, transforming the huge slab of muscle into 15 different muscles perfectly cut out, carved in the surface of Jeff’s leg, right to the bone. The way the muscles popped there was a nonsense, disturbing. Even Jeff himself wasn’t believing how they looked today. He turned the leg and made his lateral muscle crunch harder, almost making it separate from the bone, popping out like hell­­­. “Aw fuck man you have to do this, come on!!” Jeff turned his leg outwards exposing the inner thigh and letting that scared guy look his real freak leg part. A giant snake of muscle crawled from the groin to the knee, a giant sartorius muscle, feathered like hell, make of long freaky fibers. Jeff crunched it separatedly and make it pop out, giving it the look of a thick vein. Then he took his hands and slowly followed the muscle, moving it under his skin, playing with him for that guy’s enjoy. He looked at him, and he couldn’t barely move, just jack off, so hard Jeff couldn’t see the hand, just a blur of a hand moving along a really damaged shaft. He decided to end that cock’s pain. “Stand up” The owner stood up without stopping his cock job. “Stop jacking” He obeyed and slowly stopped his furious jackoff. Jeff saw what he had done to himself. The cock was completely red, some of its foreskin was really damaged, small cuts along the skin and a precum foam covering the shaft. Then Jeff kneeled down, got close to the guy, leaned backward and hit an explosive pec crunch, in the same way he had previously pumped them. He could see the deep ridged cleavage, ready for taking that cock in. “Now fuck this” The guy opened his eyes wide, not able to believe it. He looked shocked and Jeff had to repeat, which he hated so fucking much. “I won’t say it again. Fuck this… NOW” The owner of the gym slowly moved towards Jeff, and placed his cockhead on the lower cleavage, next to his upper abs. The pain was impossible, for all the damage he had self-inflicted in his cock, but feeling was just UNBELIEVABLE, AMAZING, PURE HEAVEN. He leaned his head back and moaned loud. Jeff heard that and felt it, he could feel how that guy had let himself get lost in the muscle lust, the muscle frenzy. He started thrusting his cock into Jeff’s cleavage, moaning louder, feeling a terrible pain in his cock, the fibers were so hard it was like grating his own cockhead against some iron grater, but he couldn’t stop, he started fucking that pec god, that shredded bunch of fibers. “Oh fuck yes!!!! Don’t you ever stop” Jeff himself was in a state of pure ecstasy. The fact that this guy was FUCKING his muscle overpassed his limits and got deeper into his lust. He crunched his pecs harder, making them grow, and making that cock bury into the muscle. The guy cried out in pain but went on fucking. Jeff’s eyes went red, each time that cock entered his pec and reached his chin, he give it a deep suck, feeling the hurt cockhead. Jeff started rolling his pecs alternatively up and down, bouncing them, making his inner fibers to literally JACK OFF THAT GUY’S COCK. Both of them moaning loud, louder each time. All Jeff could see was his GROTESQUE PECS and that guy’s cock fucking them. That gave him a full hard on and his balls started churning. “Fuck here it comes. Cum over me!” Jeff made the guy stop fucking his pecs, stood up, stepped back and hit a freaky most muscular pose in that guy’s face. His muscles popped everywhere, freakishly cut, shredded, his traps rising like mountains, his face in a trance look, his jawline about to burst his face skin, the deltoids looking like 10 separate huge muscles on top of his shoulders, bursting out. The tricep and bicep, from that view, were unable to distinguish between them, just two huge gigantic and sinewy muscles forming an amazing frame for the torso, what was indescribable. The 12 pack of Jeff's stomach were popping out like hell, even in the shadows that his arms projected over them, he could see the veins running from his cock up to his abs, branching out to fill them with blood and pump them. But what really got him done was the pecs, they were looking as if two immense basketballs were placed where there should only be pecs. They had doubled their size again, a bunch of disgusting and obscene fibers that he had fucked minutes earlier. That idea make the owner cum. In a loud shout he shot gallons of extremely liquid cum right into Jeff’s pecs. Shot after shot. “Awwwwww that’s it you fucker!!!” Jeff felt the warm cum over his pecs, slowly flowing down, some cum dripping by his nips, some flowing through his abs down right into his cock, and that feeling made him cum like the freak he was. “Take this!!!!!!!” In a sudden explosion, Jeff’s body started shaking as he cum. Gallons of cum flew right into the floor, at the guy’s feet. Shot after shot, he made a pool of cum, a heavy smell that got him even hornier and made him cum more and more. When he dried out of cum, he smiled satisfied, opened his eyes and looked at that poor owner, back to his mind, unable to understand how he had been doing what he did. Mix of shock, embarrassment, disturb, he stood there, still dripping cum, as Jeff was putting his shorts again, entered the locker room, got his second supplements shake and got again into the weights room, right to the inclined bench press, to go on with his workout. Jeff looked at him again, then at the pool of cum and simply said. “It’s your gym. You should clean that mess” And started repping again.

Hi guys. Here's a new story, a new character, but still as freak as my previous stories. Been quite inspired, so it's a quite long one, but the first of a series to come. Hope you all like it!!! ------- Bob couldn’t even talk, mouth open, eyes showing a freaked out look, barely able to stand. He stepped back, half afraid of what Jeff could do to him, half scared of the sight of that (human?) being that was standing in front of him. He reached the wall of the room, realizing that he couldn’t go back any further; his legs started to tremble, weakling, and he left himself slowly fell off to the ground, back against the wall, until he reached the floor, not able to keep his eyes off from that (guy?) he had hooked up with. Bob, scared to hell, still had the biggest hard on in his entire life, his cock throbbing uncontrollably, oozing precum since an hour ago. His heartbeat accelerated, adrenaline flowing through his veins. Jeff looked at his date, fully satisfied of his reaction. Who wouldn’t? The mirror in front of him, next to where Bob had landed, gave him a full sight of himself. “FUCK ME, I’M A BEAST!!”, he bragged like a switch when he realized what he had become. He looked at his reflection and all he wanted was to fuck himself. 5’11 tall frame, 28 years old, dark skin, handsome as fuck, and that freaking sick disgusting look he had been living his entire life with. He was there, completely naked, hitting a single bicep pose with his right arm, making his two ceps rise high in the air, almost touching his own fist, covered in veins from the triceps to the highest peak of the muscle, where a freaky knot made of a huge thick vein made the peak look even higher. And with the most shredded look he had achieved in his life, his dehydrated skin barely able to contain all that muscle inside. Robert was still there in the floor, unable to believe that. He had already been with big guys, but the looks of Jeff weren’t human. He explored the bicep with his eyes again, although he knew that would scare him even more. He started with the insertion of the bicep in the deltoid. The muscle was clearly attached to the bone, the thick tendon clearly visible, just surrounded by a sick layer of paper thin skin. From the tendon it started a bunch of fibers, because that’s all he could see: fibers. Muscle fibers that grew thicker, dividing into more fibers, hundreds, thousands, millions of fibers that formed an immense, grotesquely shredded, obscenely peeled bicep, rising high in the air, but divided into two perfect ceps, the inner one, and the outer one, a bit higher. Perfectly separated and split, both ceps competed to be the most awesome work of nature in a man’s arm. Bob could see every single striation in the muscle. Both ceps grew thicker as they got closer to the forearm, forming not a baseball bicep, but two huge impossible baseballs put them together. They finally ended up attaching themselves to the arm, but bulging about 2cm away from the forearm, creating a huge deep and fuckable valley of shredded muscle. The exploration of the bicep made him ooze even more precum, thicker this time, as if he were cumming; but he wasn’t, that was just his human reaction to a perfect alpha male. Then he took a full view of the arm, realizing again that Jeff seemed skinless, the muscle pushing out hard, trying to burst out of it, but the peeled look was so… fucking weird and hot at the same time. Thousands of fibers pushing one against the other, fighting for space in a huge arm whose skin was not able to contain so much muscle. He could even see, from there, how some fibers broke with such and intense crunch, making a soft sound, and tearing apart, letting more free space for new and thicker fibers that were regenerating in that very moment. Bob’s cock throbbed another spurt of thick white pre. As he had thought before, that sight scared the hell out of him, and his breath suddenly stopped for a second, not sure if he was living a dream or if that was real. He took a moment to view Jeff’s whole frame, that 5’11 tall, 28 year old muscle monster who showed no fat at all. Peeled from head to toe, Jeff seemed like a skinless anatomy chart, only covered by veins instead of skin, some of them thicker, some of them thinner, but covering him everywhere, from his toes to his very jawline muscles. Robert had always loved ripped guys, even shredded guys, and when Jeff told him he was the most shredded guy ever, he didn’t really believe him. ”He’ll be just one of those skinny guys who call themselves ripped and they’re just toned”, he though. But, now and there, looking at that obscene freak of nature, he realized Jeff had lied. He couldn’t be called “shredded”, that was something further, something beyond nature, that couldn’t be healthy or even possible. How the fuck was this guy living? Just by taking a look at his whole frame and the intense crunch on that freaky bicep, he should be dead by now! A small tear fell off his eyes, which Jeff clearly noticed, fucking satisfied at it. But he wanted more, he wanted to make Bob cry, get him really scared, and at the same time give him the biggest orgasm of his puny fucking life. Jeff’s mind changed in that very moment, turning from a self-proud muscle freak to an out-of-his-mind muscle beast. He changed his face, erased that smile he always wore when being worshipped and turned it into an aggressive look. He walked towards Robert, there in the floor, got on his left knee and placed his freakish, mountain-like bicep really close to Bob’s face. Bob looked at him nervously, moving his eyes from the bicep to Jeff’s face, not sure what was going to happen. Bob took a close look of that bicep and his mind couldn’t process all of it. From that close, the bicep didn’t seem a muscle, it was hard for him to distinguish where the biceps ended and where the triceps started, the freaky cut between both muscles was so freaky striated and veiny that all he could see was muscle, thick, sinewy, obscenely shredded, millions of fibers just a few inches away from his eyes. He could clearly see how Jeff hit small harder crunches to make the muscle move under the skin, his fibers twitching, fighting for a space that wasn’t available anymore. Jeff was high, high for his muscle, high for Bob’s reaction, high for his own muscle-lusting mind. All he could think about was to blow that guy’s mind. “Look at it!”, he ordered Bob. Bob couldn’t react, begging with his eyes not to force him to watch that insane muscle once again. Jeff’s face looked angrier, and repeated “LOOK… AT… IT… NOW!”. Bob turned his eyes to focus on his unbelievable biceps. It was even thicker than before, but then Jeff did his own freak show. He started re-crunching his inner cep, the lower one, slowly getting it harder, more round, the peak higher, but what was more important to him: more shredded!! His inner cep contracted more, and he knew what was going on inside, he was dehydrating the muscle and filling it with blood to grow it. The cep fibers literally tore apart and healed in Bob’s eyes, in a random order, growing thicker, dividing into more muscle fibers, striations getting freaky cut, it was just as if the muscle were dividing into thousands of smaller muscles, but the reality was that the cep had grown more than an inch in just ONE HARD CRUNCH, in front of Bob’s eyes. Bob was about to faint. He started stuttering: “No way… no.. no… no way”. He frowned his eyebrows, trying to concentrate on not fainting. “Please, don’t go on”, he begged Jeff. But Jeff was too high, and he wouldn’t stop. He did the same with the outer cep, the higher one, the more veiny one, he hit a freaky harder crunch on that individual cep, making the muscle tear apart faster than before, growing thick, sinewy, shredded as fuck, peeled. The sight was too obscene for Robert, who turned his face away, even though his cock was throbbing more precum than ever. Jeff immediately took Roberts face with his sinewy veiny hands and forced him to look at his bicep and in the very moment that Bob looked again, he increased the crunch, making the cep literally EXPLODE and grow 3 inches in a sudden, his huge thick veins dividing into branches who covered the cep to fill it with more blood and grow them larger. “Now, LICK!”. Bob had no free will by then, his mind was controlled by the freak show he had seen just some seconds before, and like a zombie leaned towards Jeff’s bicep, took his tongue out and carefully placed the tip of it in the split of both ceps. Jeff felt that warm wet and shy tongue and his heart stopped for a second. That was the thing he loved the most: a stuttering shy and afraid guy surrendering to his muscles and finally worshipping him. His face changed again to his usual kind and smiling face, satisfied as fuck, then he took Robert’s head and slowly made him lick all the split, from the deltoid bound to the forearm. Robert let his mind go to the worship and felt both ceps with his tongue, the bigger and veiny upper one, and the even more shredded and dry lower one, looking at Jeff’s eyes as he did it and noticing his newly smiling and self-satisfied look. Then, by himself, Robert placed more of his tongue on Jeff’s outer cep, slowly running it up to the peak, noticing each of those freaky striations with his tongue and every single vein on top of it. When he reached the peak and noticed the knot of veins, he started playing with it, moving it under the freaky thin skin, making Jeff moan like a beast. That turned him even more, and started licking the ceps harder, letting his mind go into that muscle lust he had never thought he could experience. Jeff went on crunching, the harder he could, feeling a terrible pain in his bicep, noticing how the cramps were increasing to an unbelievable level. But all he wanted was that, have Robert crazy for him. He took Bob’s head off his bicep and extended it for him, his whole arm in front of him, dozens of freaky slabs of shredded beef forming an insane 75lb arm, from the balloon deltoid to the veiny sick skinny wrist and hands. He turned the arm to show Robert all angles of that incredible mass of obscenely sinewy muscles. The forearm looked as thick as Robert’s leg, with two clearly visible parts on it: the inner forearm, full of hose-thick veins, that even extended looked sick, sinewy, fibers running from the wrist to the elbow cave, twitching one against the other, fighting to bulge out, and the outer side, who just was insanely shredded. Dozens of thick bulging strings attached to his wrist with freaky and clearly visible tendons; a forearm so incredibly cut, cuts so deep that Robert somehow thought they were detached from the bone underneath, and each one of them so freaky shredded they seem being made of layers and layers of fibers, and covered by thousands of smaller veins. The triceps were hanging low, freaky low, as if it were another bicep flexing but downwards. Even in that extended pose, the cuts were freaky visible, all of them really deep into the arm right to the bone, no fat al all, it was just… MUSCLE, pounds and pounds of muscles glued to his suffering bones. When Jeff turned his waist to his left and extended again the arm but looking left, the view changed completely. Robert could see Jeff’s triceps in all its glory: three perfectly visible muscles, which weren’t really visible in any other bodybuilder, were just clear as water in him. The longer one, in the outer side, connected to his elbow by a thinner but extremely strong tendon was just a freak of nature. The term shredded was and insult, there were millions of fibers, clearly visible, crossing the muscle from the middle arm right to the cut with the biceps. The middle one, right next to the deltoid, was just a bulging mass of grotesque fibers, who was fighting for space with the third muscle, on the opposite side, bulging hard, magnificent, shredded as fuck. The three of them forming an immense horseshow made of muscle that blew Bob’s mind away. “What the… fuck?”, it was all that Bob could say when he saw that insane display of muscle. “Oh my fucking god”, he stuttered as he leaned forward to start licking those three mounds of freaky muscle, as if he were a dog, running his tongue all over the cuts, feeling the fibers, trying to pinch some skin with his teeth, and not able to take the slightest ounce of skin, that freak was almost skinless!!!!! Jeff’s mind went higher when he suddenly noticed how that shy and puny muscle worshipper had finally let himself go to the worship of every muscle in him, that his fear had become a desperate need for muscle. His cock spurted a huge thick ooze of precum, thick and long as fuck, spewing it right into his leg, and decided to explode the tricep again. He took a deep breath, his chest inflating deep and hit an extreme tricep crunch who made the three ceps of it explode and double its size in a second. “GROARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. FUCK THAT’S IT!!!!!” He felt his tricep explode and hit Bob’s mouth. Robert saw the show and couldn’t believe it. Jeff’s arm had become something monstrous, something beyond the nature of any human being. Peeled from the deltoid to the elbow, some parts of the triceps skin were so stretched that he could see small little cuts, as if the skin were about to tear apart. His mind changed again into a freaked status and started stuttering: “No… no no no no no”. Jeff turned his face to see Bob’s, smiling with a cocky look, satisfied, and replied: “Of course yes, you fucker”. In a sudden he crunched his bicep again, hitting a single bicep back pose, crunching the hardest he had EVER done in his life, and making his arm explode into billions of muscle shreds, veins, sinews, striations, and even in that freaky status, the cuts and insertions of each muscle were so perfectly visible, deep to the bone, that his arm looked like perfectly cut out masses of muscles glued to the bones, his skin about to tear apart open to let the muscles grow even more. Robert started crying, tears running down his face. “You’re a monster, a fucking freak of nature, you shouldn’t exist, you’re too grotesque and disgusting for people, but… but… but… I fucking love you…” He rolled his eyes and started breathing heavily, still crying. From his view, Jeff could see thick huge spurts of cum flying high into the air and landing into his own bicep, one after the other. “Yeaaah that’s it baby, cum to your monster”, he said satisfied as he noticed how Bob was crying and cumming at the same time, his ultimate muscle lust, being so freaky disgustingly shredded that people wouldn’t believe he was real, that he was a monster, and even so, making them cum just by flexing his muscles. That fact hit him deep inside, watching his own biceps pumped to the fullest, covered by Bob’s cum and he knew his own cum was coming. “Awwww yeah, that’s it you freak, cum to your freaky shredded muscles”. He turned to the opposite mirror, his back facing the fainted Robert, to watch himself and started hitting freaky poses, one after the another: double bicep, abs pose, most muscular, traps high, side chest, triceps pose, non stop. Every time he hit a crunch, his cock was growing thicker, longer, watching that freak of nature, that product of evolution, shredded from head to toe, become more and more shredded with each pose, his skin about to burst. He extended one leg, balancing on the other one and crunched it freaky hard. His immense quad exploded into four ceps of pure mass of feathered striated beef. His calf looked like another leg, just a thick mass of muscle peaking inwards, rock diamond shaped, and his inner thigh run by a long freaky thick feathered sartorius that flowed from his balls to his knee, barely visible for so much muscle around it. Covered by thousands of small veins, he knew he couldn’t hold his cum anymore and hit a final pose: placed his hands behind his head, spreading his lats wide, forming an obscene inverted triangle of shredded muscle, his serratus already looking like a brick road, his obliques turning into a grotesque bunch of parallel long fibers from his serratus right into his abs, and his thick Adonis belt framing his abs like two devil snakes inserting into his cock base. From behind, Robert recovered from his shocking experience and watched Jeff’s pose. His insane arms framing his head, the shoulders from behind were nothing but a compendium of anatomy, dozens, if not hundreds, of muscles attached to his arms and grotesquely inserting right under his traps. Those bulging traps, shredded to unbelievable limits, inserting into his spine so clearly he was almost close to puking: both traps were so fucking separated and shredded that he could clearly see the bones of his spine between the two mounds of muscle. The lats were so fuking spread that he had to physically turn his head to be able to see them all. The lats striations run from the front of Jeff’s body right into the middle of his back, forming an insane cut that seemed more a ridge than a real insertion. Both muscles forming an impressive Xmas tree shape that blew his mind away again and made him start crying again. He couldn’t do another thing but reach them and start caressing it, tracing the insane saw of his Xmas tree with his fingers, unable to find something he could call fat, water or even skin, it felt like touching raw muscle. He felt such a pervert for enjoying that muscle freak, but went on worshipping his back. And so Jeff felt it. He hadn’t noticed how he recovered until he heard his cry and felt his fingers admiring and adoring his gigantic freaky shredded back. He then focused on his last muscles to adore: that impossible 10 pack that made most of guys cum in their pants when he started training in the gym. 10 freaky cobblestones, made of pure muscle, shredded vertically, run by a thousand small veins who joined in the lower abs to form two huge hose-thick veins running right into his cock. Those abs got him even harder but he wanted more. He took another deep breath, and hit another impossible abs crunch, suffering like hell the pain he was self-inflicting in his body, but then the abs started popping out even more, one by one, first the upper ones, shredding at the same time, then the second row, who popped with an audible sound, POP, POP, then the third row, the fourth and finally his fifth row of abs popped out like hell making his stomach look like an insane washboard of shredded beef. But then he pushed himself further, crunched harder his pube muscles, which he had never used but for jacking off, making them pop out, forming an extra pair of abs and turning himself into a 12-pack monster. That was too much for him. His eyes injected with blood and self-lust, the touch of Robert from behind, and the sight of his own reflection, turned into a monster, made his whole body tremble, shake and ripple like hell as his balls started pushing all that cum out of his huge cock. “THERE YOUUUUU GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”, he shouted like hell as his abs and pube muscles contracted to throw huge and thick spurts of muscle cum right into his reflection. First shot looking at his abs, second shot looking at his insane biceps crushing his ears, third shot feeling Bob’s hands in his back, fourth shot looking at his insane lats and serratus, fifth shot for his calves and sixth one for his insane shredded quads. “FUUUUCKKKK YESSSSSSSS”, Jeff shouted out loud as he was shooting his last shot of cum right into his pecs’ reflection. Jeff rolled his eyes up, stood up, walked to his bed, and left his weight fell to it, exhausted, finally relaxing his muscles. “Now go”, he told Robert. He laid there, exhausted but satisfied, playing with Robert’s cum in his biceps, thinking about his life, and how he ended up being such a freak, as he heard Bob closing the door and walking away, still crying. -------- Here are the links for the next chapters. I hope you like it too!

Hi guys. Here's another one of my self-worship series: time to flex pecs Hope you like it. ----------------------------------- 8:30 am: The clock alarm started buzzing like hell. Greg hardly tried to open his eyes to make sure it was time to wake up. "Aw, fuck..." He was still asleep, and the clock was still buzzing, so he raised his arm, reached the clock, letting his hand fall down onto the button, almost smashing it, and making it finally stop. He started building up his mind for the routine day: having a huge breakfast, then going to gym, have a shower, have his meal, go to work, eat again, rest a bit at home, then eat again before his second gym session of the dat, have his dinner, and then run like hell to lose every ounce of fat and keep his bodyfat as low as possible, then a second shower and sleep. That was his almost every day agenda, and what would have driven crazy to anyone, made him really happy, he just loved it. The only thing that bothered him was his work. He was an engineer, and he loved what he did, but fuck if he were a millionaire he could quit it and fully concentrate on building his body, his true devotion. But until then, he still needed the job. Or, maybe he could find a sponsor for building his body?... Naaah, he thought it a second time and discarded it. "What for? To feel obliged to be worshipped by a bad worshipper every day? No way" He remembered the previous night and regretted again for having accepted that date. He was horned as fuck, too horned, had worked out legs, and had a huge cum after giving himself a self-worship, but he needed more, so he accepted to meet Mark, "the best worshipper you would ever know", in his own words. "Fuck yourself Mark, you're a crap". The guy was only focused on Greg's biceps. He didn't really mind that, he loved to give himself single-muscle worship sessions, but the guy was sooooo fucking boring. The only thing that he wanted was to make Greg flex his biceps and kept them flexed, while he licked them and jacked off. No words, just "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god" like a mantra for 15 minutes, who seemed to Greg a whole day. He decided to end that shit, licked his own bicep for the guy, made him cum instantly and sent him home, promising himself not to make the same mistake again: "Greg, don't you EVER meet a worshipper when horned". The worst part of it is that he got so angry with himself that he lost his horniness and went to bed late, horned and with his balls full. And there he was in bed, sleepy as hell, angry again for his mistake, and with a long day ahead. "What do I have to workout today?... Aw yeahh, pecs!!!" That made him happy again, he loved working out pecs. They weren't their fav muscles but fuck, he had a special ability, or genetics, to have a HUGE pump who could last for days. "Ok, let's do some reps, maybe I will get fully awake with it". He got off from bed, got to the floor, kept in a perfect push up position, his 375lbs resting just on his hands and started repping: "1, 2, 3..." He could still feel the cramps from last pecs session, almost a week ago, but he loved that feeling. "21, 22, 23, ..." He started feeling the blood flowing through his pecs. "61, 62, 63, ..." Fuck now he started feeling horned again. "Come on Greg, focus on your pecs, not on your cock. 101, 102, 103..." Now, in the 100th rep, was when he felt their pecs pumped to the max, and the next ones were the ones that made him grow. "131, 132,...hell yeahhh". Now he was fully horned, he couldn't resist it, the feeling of the muscle growing with each rep was too much. He closed his eyes and visualized his pecs working in each rep: when down in the floor, fully extended, fibers freaky visible for havig his skin fully stretched, his insertions in the delts, then starting to raise up, his fibers contracting to pull the arms down and make his 375lbs raise. He could even visualize how the upper fibers started contracting at first, and then, when he was 15cm away from the floor, the upper fibers started working, contracting themselves and pushing him upper. He could even feel the burn of each muscle part and he fucking loved it. Then, when fully up, he hit a huge final crunch, forcing his inner fibers to crunch like hell, making his pecs pop out like two meat balloons. He let himself go with that image he made up in his mind, but then opened his eyes, looked to his pecs and saw them, but much better than what he had imagined: he could see his huge cleavage, the insertions of the pecs in the sternon, every single fiber insertion perfectly thick, huge, like a knife stuck in the middle of his torso, forming a perfect valley, but not in a line, but like a saw. He saw the size of the pecs, HUGE, popping out at least 10cm away from his ribcage, the insertion in the collarbone, shredded even in that position where those fibers didn't really work. He couldn't even find the smallest wrinkle in the join with his arm, his skin was so fucking tight that all of it was filled with muscle. That image was his fucking own muscle lust, and he entered that "zone" where he wasn't really him, but a self-loving muscle freak. He rolled up his eyes and went on repping: "200, 201, 202, ..." With each rep, he visualized the image of his pecs working, getting harder at that image. He wouldn't stop until failing, and that was going to last. "300, 301, 302, ..." His pecs burned like hell, making his cock harder and harder with each burning. "350, 351, ..." He began to lose his strength "362... FUUCKKKKK". He let his body drop, couldn't do another rep, and the sound of his body falling made his dog bark, freaked out. 375lbs falling down onto the floor made him feel as if there was an earthquake. Greg was exhausted, taking enormous quantities of air with each breath, but he was even hornier than before. He placed his huge fists and feet on the floor and raised his sweating 375lbs of muscle, maybe a bit less for so much sweating. He walked like a zombie, feeling a huge pain in his pecs muscles, knowing that this was going to be his biggest pump ever. He finally got to the bathroom, still in shades, reached the light switch and pushed it... And the sight of himself in the mirror just shocked him even harder... He couldn't really recognize his own muscle frame. His pecs were wider than ever, even relaxed, framing much wider that his armpits. The shape of them was almost perfectly squared. The followed the cuts of them wit his eyes, mesmerized with them: the freaky insertion in the delts muscle, as if the muscle were emerging from below the deltoids. It didn't even look like a single insertion, but every fiber bunch inserting into the deltoid, as if the pec were at least five smaller pecs growing from the shoulder. He followed the outer line of the pec, a bit inclined towards the upper abs. All that line was blurry, because of the fibers and striations that were running his pecs horizontally and hiding behind he pecs, inserting in his ribcage, in the part that was covered by his own pec. He raised his right hand and placed it behind his huge pec, finding the insertions of the fibers in the ribcage with his fingertips. He traced that insertion slowly, feeling the saw-like line that formed it. The feeling of that horned him even harder, making his cock grow longer, thicker, and making his huge cockhead slit drip some precum. He left his left pec free visible again for himself and went on enjoying his view. The outer line ended in his thick huge nipple, pointing down for so much meat on his pec. The fibers in his lower pecs were not completely parallel to the other ones, making clearly visible that those fibers helped the muscle make another movements different than the upper pec. He made a slow muscle contraction of the lower pec, really slow, from the bottom up, making the lower striations look deeper than the upper ones. When the muscle wave reached his nipple, it made it point a bit up, long, round and thick, freaky hard from so much blood in his pecs. He let his left pec fully contract in a wave of muscle running up, getting freaky hard, freaky striated, shredded everywhere, dry as fuck. Then he looked at the image: his right pec relaxed, but even so freaky shredded; but his left pec fully contracted, GROTESQUE, DRY, ALL-FIBER, HUGE, INSANE. Any word that came up to his head couldn't really describe what he saw, but his cock could. Now it was fully erect, huge as fuck, almost 15 inches of a thick, meaty muscle now dripping precum non stop. He got a handful of that pre and started sliding it all over his flexed pec. He loved the feeling of his pre in the muscle, the smell, no oil felt that good: He sticked his thumb between the pecs, running the cleavage, oiling it, feeling the freaky hard fibers grating his own finger, but he went on squeezing it harder and harder. Then with his handfull, all five fingers rubbing his huge pec, the palm feeling the whole pec, cupping it. He let his index finger work slowly gently on his nipple, and his full body contracted in pleasure. What could drive him wild as fuck was the idea of someone slowly worshipping his nipple, with his tongue tip. He imagined that in his mind, and got to a higher level of muscle lust. He relaxed his contracted pec, got a huge breath, making his chest expand almost 5 inches wider, freaky, shredded as fuck even in that position, skin stretched, he locked his eyes into his own pecs through the mirror, clenched his teeth and hit the freakiest most muscular pose ever. "FUCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK THAT'S IT FUCKER!!!!!" His pecs exploded into two freaky balloons of shredded muscles. They no longer looked like muscles, but like a bunch of fibers, placed one on top of the other, freaky huge insertions everywhere: into his cleavage, into his collarbone, the insertions in his delts freakiest than ever, framed by his huge biceps around them. The view was freaky as fuck, relaxed and contracted them a couple of times, but not slowly, he just wanted to see their pecs explode once and again, and that's what he got: freaky ballons of muscle fibers popping out of his body. Then he looked at the huge pit that his lower pecs formed with his upper abs, making a deep cave made of muscle walls. His cock was harder and longer than ever, he contracted his groin and made his cock raise up up up, and reaching that fuckage cave. He helped his cock and inserted his head in the deep pit and crunched both his abs and his pecs harder, catching his cockhead hard between them. He started humping his own pecs, pushing hard up and grinding his cock with his lower pecs, feeling the fibers with his head, even hurting it because of the hardness of the fibers. But it doesn't mattered, what mattered was that he was in the "zone", he could only think of his muscles, in loving them. He started crunching and relaxing both lower pecs alternatively, slowly jacking his cockhead, leaking precum non stop. He crunched his upper pecs, making such a huge cut in his collarbone so freaky it seemed the pecs were about to pop out of his body. Fuck he loved watching himself being a fucking pec freak. He stopped humping and concentrated of jacking his cockhead. He flexed his lower pecs more and more, giving his pecs a huge jack off, enjoying both the jackoff, but above all the ability of being able of self jack off with his pecs. He felt his balls working hard to make all that cum flow up, the burn of his horniness from head to toe, making his cock get about to cum, but his burn concentrating on his pecs, the aim of his lust, not his cock or his orgasm, but his pecs. But now it was time to let it go. He hit a couple of last crunches, shredding them more than before, giving a huge squeeze in his cock head and making his cock cum like a hose. "YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH FUUUUCKKKKK". The first blast cum laid on his chin, the second blast laid on his left pec, and the rest of them flowing down his cock and his balls. Still horned as fuck, he got all his cock cum with his left hand and started rubbing all along his right pec, covering it and relaxing both of them. He slowly touched his nips with his cummy fingers, and the feeling of his own muscle cum in their hyper sensitive nips made his cock launch a huge last blast of cum right into the mirror. "Fuck, i can't wait to do this again after the workout".

Hi guys. I've decided to try and write a short story. It's my first one, so I'm pretty sure I can do it better. And sorry for my English, if there's something wrong on it Hope u like it ------- Greg was still amazed, no matter how many times he looked at himself in the mirror. It was a long road to get there, more than 5 years of intense workout, absolute diet and a total lack of social life, only devoted to his body. All that was the price he had to pay, and he knew he would pay it a thousand times more if he could. He had never been a really skinny guy, maybe a bit flabby when a child, but gaining more than 25lbs in his first year made him realize this was his life. Muscle. Not bodybuilding, but Muscle, with capital M. He wasn't interested in competing. Why would he? He already knew he would win. No, that's not what was important to him, the important thing was MUSCLE. Public appreciation didn't really matter to him, as well. He liked being admired, who doesn't? but after some frustrating experiences with guys who considered themselves worshippers, he realised that no one would ever satisfy his needs. Well, that's not true, there will always be one person who will fulfill his need of appreciation: himself. He raised his right arm, feeling how heavy is was. Looking at it, it seemed a long thick slab of muscle, 65lbs of pure muscle. He loooked at the bicep, with one big vein, thick as one finger, running from the delt down to his forearm and ending it's way merging with one of his numerous hand veins. He bent the elbow, not even flexing it, and the huge mass of muscle that was his bicep popped out, thick, big, majestic. He looked at it amazed again, moved his arm to see the bicep from every angle, feeling proud of his growth. A 65lbs arm, 25' of pure beauty, right there for his own pleasure. He hit a quick flex and the monster bicep transformed. The huge round gigantic ball broke into two impressive ceps, separated by a deep split. The inner one, crossed by the huge vein of his arm, looked so perfect he always kissed it when flexing. The outer one, a bit higher than the inner one, was not perfectly round, but it had a high peak on top of it which he also loved. He placed one finger in the inner cep, but it was really hard to sink it in. Then he flexed a bit harder and then it happened... Both ceps grew at his sight, maybe an inch wider, but the freakiest thing was how shredded it become... All he could see was fibers and striations, and he felt his skin getting tighter. His cock woke up, and started to grow at his sight, an 6in soft slab of meat, growing for muscle. He placed his free hand on the inner cep, thick, shredded, almost skinless. He felt it freaky hard, and could even stick his finger in the deep split that separated it from the outer cep. He traced the split with the fingertip, feeling the ridges that the fibers and striations formed on it. It started to hurt, his skin was to tight he thought he could tear it apart if he pulled too tight. He started playing with his thick bicep vein, moving it under his skin, pressing it, feeling the blood flowing through it. He started getting nervous again, he always got off so much when doing this that his heartbeat increased, sending more blood to his veins and making that thick vein grow even more at his sight. "Damn, why can't I find a real worshipper to enjoy this fucking show?" - he thought. His cock was almost fully erect, 12in of man meat demanding even more blood. Then he couldn't resist it and started kissing his bicep. He first started licking the vein, feeling the blood, softly, with his tip. Then he felt the freaky deep and hard striations on his ceps and got even harder, his cock fully erect at 14in, huge, throbbing, crossed by thick hard veins. The feeling of its striations was so hot that he crunched his bicep even more. CRUNCHHHH The cep almost hurted his lips, pressing hard against his teeth. But it was fucking worth. He stepped out and saw the fucking show the bicep had become. The inner cep was thicker, 2 in more than before, and it had covered with lots of veins, small ones, not covering the millions of fibers of it. The outer cep was higher, a perfect peak rising from behind, shredded to unbelievabe limits. And the split between both was freaky deep, as if the ceps were about to separate. His cock started to erupt precum, thick globules out of its cock. Then the started to relax and crunch his bicep and a slow pace: relax, crunch... relax, crunch... with each flex, getting a bit more ripped, shredded, thicker. Greg went on flexing faster, and faster. His bicep were almost exhausted but he couldn't stop flexing, more and more. Finally, he couldn't resist it anymore and had the biggest orgasm ever. FUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKK A long thick eruption of cum flew right over his bicep, covering some of its veins. As he kept cumming, he oiled his freaky bicep with his own cum, making it shine, and cumming more and more, until his balls run out ot cum and his bicep was fucking wet. "Fuck, now I do need to find someone to share this with..."