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FANTASY FUTURE MUSCLE- part I It would have been the pinnacle of my career as a sports writer, three hundred metres below the city centre of Moscow, the final round of a highly secretive international bodybuilding contest was taking place. The audience was made up solely of bodybuilders, only men of course, of varying levels of professionalism and size, all bound with muscle and wrapped up in a mixture of baggy gym clothes and skin tight latex. I say it would have been the pinnacle of my career, because before arriving here I abandoned my old life- my investigations into this mysterious unknown bodybuilding circuit had led me to a new calling in life that I loved more than anything, and that is muscle. Before I bore you with the details of how I discovered this incredible spectacle, allow me to describe what took place before my eyes. The eight largest men on the face of the earth are standing, waiting for instructions, on a vast podium running the length of the underground auditorium. The other fourteen that took place in earlier contests during the day have been eliminated and now sit watching the show. You can see them scattered around the audience, they are truly massive. Two American, one Argentinian, two Russian, one Chinese, one French and one Italian, eight giant muscle-beasts, none weighing less than 700 pounds and none shorter than 7"6. As this is the opening round of the final they are wearing the regulation black posing briefs around their massive junk that even from this distance one can see is pulsating and growing; red hot meat ready to burst any second. But they have to contain it now, the judges have seated themselves, and demand the introductory poses. A booming voice comes from the roof of the vault "Quarter turn to the right, quarter turn to the right, quarter turn...", and my eyes are firmly fixed on Martin van Santen, the Argentinian competitor. We attended school together in Buenos Aires, and then college together in New York. I was the first person to whom he confided that he was gay, and we remained close friends all of our lives. I remember with total clarity the short, chubby boy who studied English and psychology with me, about 5"3 and cute as a button, I adored him...but now here he was, weighing 890 pounds, towering twelve inches over my head at 7"8 and about to place in the top eight bodybuilders in the world. He couldn't see me, and I knew that my appearance later would surprise him, but at that moment nothing was a bigger shock on this earth than seeing Martin hitting the compulsory poses alongside these seven other beasts. The quarter turns were beautiful, as he faced the front I saw his whole front profile; big strong feet anchored this monster to the ground, and his lower leg was thick with calf muscle such that it was as wide as it was long; the diamond shaped muscle jutted out and formed a substantial part of his silhouette. Around each of his knees, thick, hard striations of quad muscle grew, that became larger and more vascular as they reached his waist. In spite of the mountain of muscle he had become, I would guess that his waist had remained remarkable around 34 inches around, making those 44 inch quads even more magnificent. His stomach was a brick wall of rock hard abs, marked by thick green veins running between them, and topped by two boulder-like pectoral muscles that formed a chest unlike any other I've seen. They were round and magnificent, with gigantic nipples pointing to the floor that were equally rock hard. His lats were so wide that his arms hung at a 40 degree angle, and he was almost unable to touch his torso with his large manly hands. A watch was strapped around his wrist, and from there masses of muscle in his forearm extended and continued all the way up his arm to form a thick bicep and triceps combo, that even when resting was formidable. Topped by vascular, football sized shoulders and traps, his arms were as gorgeous as the rest of him. As the first quarter turn happened, it was visible that his giant legs had difficulty moving, and his lats flared out as he moved his arms. The second quarter turn revealed a wide and heavily muscled back, as well as his rock solid, enormous ass that looked as though it could crush any man's cock with just a single clench. I was becoming flustered and needed a break. I noticed the first few spankers commencing around me. It's inevitable, really, during Mr. Planet that audience members become so aroused, and as a result spankers are just a standard part of the event. This early though it was unusual, and I didn't want to seem out of place. The most impressive poses were coming up now. Front double biceps- I saw his quads and biceps tense in unison as he moaned sensually. I remember writing numerous articles against bodily enhancements in sport, but now I found myself truly grateful for the liberal doses of testosterone given to these athletes that filled the whole auditorium with a sexy, virile musk as these eight beasts lifted their arms for this pose. The front lats spread- I got to see this boy really spanning across his whole immense form with lats so wide and thick I thought he could fly. The scent remained in the air and caused many audience members to disrobe and fiercely masturbate whilst watching the spectacle. I knew the best was yet to come though. After the abdominal and thighs pose, during which the howls of the competitors on the stage were so loud, fierce and deep that I uncontrollably ejaculated all over my speedo, the exhausted men exhaled deeply and shook each other's hands vigorously, muscles still pulsating furiously from the round of posing. "Gentlemen, the compulsory poses are now over. You are invited to remove your trunks."

The IFNB's recent series, the Amateur Showcase (Co-sponsored by HyperDev Labs) has me wondering if anyone has "heard" any background on any of their amateurs? Often, IFNB fans will write up "what they've heard" about the monster muscle & horse cocked alpha athletes they cover. This series has a lot of amazing up and "cummers" and so I was wondering if any of you dudes wanted to post some quick notes or tales about these guys . . . ? For example, a fellow fan told me that Janos Peralek is allowed to train naked in his gym, and the gym owner sells protein drinks made of his cum. Likewise, Ignacio Jule recently had the cops visit his house. Neighbors heard cries of extreme agony coming from his apartment. Knowing Jule is a massive muscle brute, they sent two of the biggest, most jacked muscle cops to investigate. They found Jule flexing his massive muscles while his monster cock was slammed into as bodybuilder on the bed. While the bodybuilder was screaming in agony as the massive cock tore him open, it was clear to the police he was willingly offering his muscled ass to Jule while the monster practiced flexing. Word is the two cops were driven so wild with alpha lust for Jule that they, too, eagerly opened their thick gluteus for the competitor to practice with. What stories have you "heard"? Go check out some of the amateurs and post some quick ideas below!

Born a Leather Musclegod by DC I've known since childhood that I was destined to be a man whom other men serve, both sexually and in everyday life. Like many men, at an early age I had learned about my penis, and how it was designed by nature to control others while bringing me intense pleasure. Unlike other men, I was born with additional, enhanced talents, abilities and physical traits that predestined me to a position of uncontested superiority. The source of these differences isn't clear to me. Mutation? Metaphysical changes through reincarnation? Dumb luck? I think that I'm an "old soul" - the outcome of a combined effect of reincarnation and mutation, rather than just some hot leather muscle daddy who has found his way from societal repression into fulfillment of true manhood. It's no joke: I've lived before, many times, and in my most recent lives (as in this one) I was an incredible specimen of a man, loved and feared by many, worshipped, adored, served and serviced, and damn well deserving of everything I had and/or took. With each incarnation, I improve myself. Tribal leader? A war hero, perhaps? Perhaps that soul, having been released from a previous life, chooses the next body carefully, even influences its genetic composition at conception, to further evolve not just the spirit, but the vessel it inhabits in the next cycle. These are just guesses, although they "feel" very right to me. Even so, I'm less interested in the cause than the effect. It would be natural on your part to think me self-delusional at this point. Descriptions of this kind are more of a fantasy than reality. I assure you it is the truth. If you meet me in person, you will understand. The best way I can explain it is that I am more than the physical man you see, and that I've existed much longer than the scant 50 years he has lived on this earth. I've earned my place as a god among men, and I don't abuse the privilege. Instead, I seek to elevate and further evolve the men I choose. I physically alter them and train them not just to service me as their master, but to love me as they would a strict and caring father who is raising them to become something more than they would have been without my influence. Looking at me today, you would see a 6-foot 3-inch, bearded, muscled bear-of-a-man dressed in worn denim and leather, from boots to chaps to vest to cap. I'm confident, commanding, in control, and never lacking men to do my domestic and sexual bidding. I believe in understated clothing and accessories: simple and never flashy, but clearly and carefully chosen as a statement of who I am, not a fashion statement. My body is massively muscular, but not the ripped bodybuilder you see at a pose-down. Instead, you see a big bull with a salt-and-pepper full beard, imposing physique, and intense yet reassuring blue eyes. My chest is broad and deep, dusted with soft brown fur and accented with large, beefy nipples - spigots of raw male power that naturally draw men to them for nourishment, then rest in the cleft between them. My arms are thick and roped, endowed with great strength to keep a boy in line, or to protect him when needed. My neck is thick, traps rising from bunched deltoids to the base of my skull, as if I am wearing a fantastically sculpted, high collar one can throw his arms around and hold on to. My legs are like concrete pylons, massive and thick, that can stand up to the most brutal assault of any enemy who may try to knock me down, or tantrum a boy may stupidly decide to throw. My abdomen is a huge slab of muscles covered by a soft layer of belly fat and more fur, making it a warm, safe place to curl up and sleep. But my cock... my cock is what makes me a god. Among the many things I have developed through improving myself physically over many lives is the ability to control penis size at will. Most men are subject to the whims of their dicks as to when they will get hard, how hard they will become, and when the will reach climax. I can will my cock to be any size and shape within reason. When I am ready to use a man, I assess his limits and capabilities, then adapt my cock to the situation. As I train him repetitively, and as he physically changes from exposure to me, he may eventually take me at my full size. My ejaculate is sweet and addictive. More than just the taste, it induces several changes, both physical and emotional, in any man who ingests it. I will revel in my ownership for an hour or more before releasing my essence into him. The sheer power that flows through my cock when it is in his mouth or ass, and the transformative effects of my seed once inside him, create an unbreakable affinity between us. Almost immediately upon absorbing it, he develops a very deep devotion to me. He never forgets the overwhelming sensation of pure male energy entering and changing his body as I extract my pleasure from him. He becomes my "son" in a very real way. The more often I cum inside him, the more devoted, solicitous, and like me he will become. My semen is like a benign virus - protein molecules that change and replicate inside a man's cells, modifying his genetic code to include sequences from my own, superior genes. Over time, and depending on the amount consumed, he becomes more muscular, confident, sexually competent, and able to conquer other men as a daddy in his own right, further spreading a moderated, less powerful derivative of my seed to other boys. All of this I now know as an adult. Looking in retrospect upon my formative years, I only knew then that I had needs, desires, expectations of how they should be met, and the destiny of which I spoke. In my youth, I could only attribute this knowledge to a wildly active fantasy life. I was masturbating at an early age, looking at adult men with lust and longing. Bearded. Muscular. Cigar smoking. Ideal images of rugged manhood. Although many of them brought out a boyish response in me - to be close to them, to feel and touch - the overriding drive was to conquer and use them. But fantasy was all it was for many, many years. I was born and raised in an ultra-conservative region, and religious injunctions that had been foisted upon me sexual thoughts of any but the most puritanical origin. (They say you can't choose your parents, and apparently, this also applies to masters reincarnate.) My fantasies were so far-flung from the accepted norm that I buried my true nature deeply. As I matured through adolescence and into adulthood, I battled constantly to keep my real self at bay, constrained. I must say that growing up in such an environment was not without its advantages. For in battling 24x7 to contain that self, I developed strengths of character in perseverance and patience. I learned compassion for others, seeing them as caged animals often kept from what they wanted and desired by the artificial limits of a fearful society. Not only did I see myself in a trap, being denied my real identify, but I also saw other men similarly shackled. The difference was that the man I held in prison was destined to a superior station in life. The others wanted desperately to submit and be ruled. As I grew older, keeping that man in chains became increasingly difficult. He was not accustomed to confinement, as clearly in my past life I had been uncontested in dominion of myself and my chattel. He incessantly nagged me to grow and change physically into the bullish brute that would bend other men to his desires. Although I had what would be an insatiable appetite for the male form, I was very careful not to feed it. Men who had developed their bodies into those of muscular gods were a particular hazard that I avoided. I also worked especially hard to avoid any physical development of my own body, knowing that to begin catering to that desire would be to empower the man inside to break free. I was convinced I must go the grave with him inside that closet. Otherwise, I would disappoint everyone whom I thought really cared about me. But the man inside proved too strong. My true nature would not be constrained. As I entered early adulthood, a change began that could not be stopped - only delayed. I focused on academic endeavors during my 20s, only briefly giving thought to the problem of the bound titan god inside me who was slowly loosening his bonds. By my 30s, I had a career on steroids, but my life was miserable and my health a mess. Still, the once-all-powerful master wrapped within me was breaking through the barriers I had set before him, one by one. By age 40, it was too much. I realized that my reasons for living a chaste life and denying the man inside were not worthy of my efforts. Through many events, I learned that the people I held in high esteem - those whom I wished to impress and not disappoint - didn't really care about me. This was the last chain to break, and my alter-ego was free to emerge. Things happened quickly after that. By age 42 I had been working out constantly for two years, and my body had undergone changes nothing short of miraculous. At first, I felt regret that I had not figured this out sooner so that I would have the supposed advantage of youth to further fuel my transformation. But I was wrong. As I observed other, much younger men, laboring daily with weights and machines to add a few millimeters to their dimensions, I was rapidly passing them in how much work I performed, as well as sheer size. I was already tall, but I had been either skinny or obese my entire life, on purpose. Now, the muscles practically blossomed overnight. My chest quickly grew to an astounding 54". My biceps, 22". My triceps stood out in huge, bulky mounds on either arm. My pecs were deep, with insanely large nipples resting atop each one, just slightly turned at a 45-degree angle towards to floor. And although I still had a good bit of belly, there was no doubt to anyone that huge slabs of hard abdominals dwelt just below that superficial layer. As I grew into my full manhood, I learned how to bring a man to heel, press him into service, and use him as I saw fit - all of it with his willing and enthusiastic support. I say "learned" but it was really just a matter of exercising old knowledge. I knew exactly what to do, and did it instinctively once I took my skeptical self out of the picture - all I had to do was mentally step back from the situation, then watch as the old-soul part of me deftly orchestrated the scene and the man in expert fashion. ***** My first attempt to let go and "see what happens" was also when I discovered the latent abilities I had inherited from previous lives, now that the man inside was free. I had been chatting with a hot little muscle man online. (Well, he was little compared to me.) Initially he had been cocky in his interactions, using informal language and typing shortcuts that I disdain, referring to me as "man" and typing things like "how u doin?" and, in general, taking a very familiar attitude with me. This was disrespectful and required correction if I were to continue in our chats. I soon established myself as an authority figure through using only the power of my written words. Then, I quickly taught him basic protocols that I supposed I had heard or read about, but now I realize, were bits of the old knowledge already seeping through to my conscious mind. The first lessons were that he referred to me as "Sir" and that he remember he had (I assumed) learned to write proper English at school, and I expected him to use it. Slowly, he fell into line. Over time, his real desires started coming to the forefront. For weeks he had begged to come serve me. Although I had been experimenting with man-to-man sex for many months, I was still being very skittish about meeting men like this cocky asshole. I had enjoyed what I had done so far, but it was too tame. I had decided to become much more assertive and dominating in my sexual relations, and I wasn't sure I could put him and keep him in his place. He nagged me to the point that I finally issued orders of when and where he was to appear, and how I wanted him prepped and dressed. I dressed in a pair of old Levi's, a black wife-beater, utility boots, and master's cap with a scorpion bracelet around my left wrist, assuming he knew the importance of that placement choice. Dominants flag left. Everyone knew that, didn't they? Otherwise, how could I have known it? Again, the unexplained knowledge dribbling through the chinks separating me from my aggregate past life was beginning to show itself. I prepared a space to receive him by placing my black leather chair in front of a full length mirror. I placed candles on either side of the chair and turned out the room lights, then I lit a large cigar just as he arrived. I had been developing cigars as part of my leather daddy persona, and I was surprised at how natural it as to me. It was as if I had smoked them all my life. I also had a penchant for strong bourbon, a large glass of which was on the small table to my left. I had noticed in bars how others took so much pride in downing a shot of it. I drank it in gulps with no problem, but never bothered to question how I was able to do that when others couldn't. The boy arrived on time; I had warned him about being too early or late. Keeping his eyes down at all times, he removed his clothing, and took a position between my booted feet at the foot of the chair as I had previously instructed. I had told him this was called "First Position" but I wasn't sure where I got that name. By this time, I had put my "new self" on the sidelines and given my "old self" complete control. (He) I drew heavily on the cigar and took my damn sweet time before acknowledging the boy. A few sips of bourbon, then finally I raised my boots and put them on his back as if he were a stool. My new-self was astonished and hugely turned on. My old-self simply continued smoking and drinking bourbon while admiring his boots and the candle-lit scene reflected in the mirror. The boy was shaking, with little gasps and whimpers escaping from his lowered mouth as he breathed rapidly. After many minutes, I removed my boots and placed my hand on his head. "Lift up, boy. Look at me." He did, and his eyes went very wide with a look of awe. "Oh, my god!" he gasped. "Yes, boy. I'm your god. I'm your master. And I may yet be your daddy if you please me." I said simply. He nodded, not taking his eyes from mine. "Stand up." He did. I walked around him, inspecting him while continuing to fill the room with cigar smoke. He was shorter than I, his head coming up to my nose. About 28 years old, he was muscular, but with a swimmer's body. His hair was wavy and unkempt, but clean. He had no facial hair to speak of. His chest was well defined, but not what you would call "overdeveloped" by any stretch. His ass was ample, and appeared as if it would be yielding to my touch. He was soft, naked, and cold standing before a hot, hairy brute who was intent on using him for all he could deliver. My cock twitched at the thought as I slapped his ass, grabbed it, put my mouth next to one of his ears and said "Mine." My voice was low and brusque, with an almost imperceptible growl. The boy made no response other than a violent shiver and whimper that ran through his body. I slapped his ass again twice as hard and grabbed the globe of his left butt cheek viciously between my fingers. At nearly triple the volume, I barked into his ear, "Mine, boy! What do you say?" He hesitated a moment, then understood he was expected to respond. "Yes. Yes, SIR!" "That's better," I grunted as I violently released the ass cheek, which would surely bear a bruise the next day. He stumbled forward, then regained his balance, though still shivering and not daring to look behind him, where I stood. Without warning (to my new-self, or the boy), I quickly moved around to stand in front of him, took the cigar into my left hand, and with my right at the base of his skull, tilted it upward to face me. Within a second of this lightning move, my tongue invaded his mouth deeply and brutally. The boy squirmed and whimpered at first, but my firm grip gave him nowhere to go. Soon, he settled down and gave himself up to the reality of his situation. My tongue fucked his throat deeply, and the taste and smell of the cigar and bourbon were overpowering his senses even more, with the roughness of my beard and moustache against his tender face creating red patches from the friction. After nearly a minute of this, I gave him one final deep thrust and roughly pulled his head away. He gasped for air, breathing heavily and sobbing, "Oh, Sir... Oh, Sir!" then he looked up at me again, with that expression of awe mixed with fear and longing. I smiled down at him. "Good boy, but my cock will be much more trying." I returned the cigar to my mouth and used my hands to guide and position his mouth near my right pec. Although I didn't set him on it, he instinctively started straining towards the large, mesmerizing nipple hidden beneath the stretched fabric of the wife-beater. I intensified my hold on his neck, causing him to wince and yelp. "Not until I say so, son!" I bellowed. He rolled his eyes up to look at me again. I held him in my gaze as I puffed on the cigar a few times, blowing smoke down and over my massive chest, then released my hold on him. I removed my hat and placed it in reverse on his head, whispering "Hat rack, son," into his ear. Then, carefully manipulating the cigar from hand to hand, I pulled the wife-beater over my head to reveal my chest, threw the shirt to the side, and retrieved the cap, returning it to my own head. "Oh, wow!" exclaimed the boy. The broad expanse of my chest glowed softly in the candlelight, and the fur gave it a fuzzy, soft texture with the two nipples rising above the dense layer, bullets of flesh demanding his attention. Reapplying a vice-like grip on his neck, I tilted his head down and redirected his gaze directly at my right pec and once again covered it with smoke. He whimpered and let out a small moan, wracked with the longing to latch on to that source of masculine power just an inch away, yet helplessly prevented from it. "How does that make you feel, son, being so close to this chest? A little weak? Small? Do you want to touch it? To suck it like a little boy needs to suck so he'll grow up strong? You're just a faggot hoping to drain a little bit of power from a real man, now that you've finally met one. You want it, boy?" I slowly moved the nipple closer to his mouth, and hairs from my chest surrounding it grazed his lips. He could feel the heat of my body and the thick smoke hovering between us, but he still could not suck it. Quickened puffs of air escaped his nostrils, causing ripples in the soft fur and disturbing the heavy, murky veil. He was whimpering again, so I jerked him by the neck to get his attention. "What? I didn't hear you, boy! DO YOU WANT TO SUCK IT!?" I shouted. The sound of my voice was so loud and unexpected it surprised even me. He winced in pain as the explosion fell upon his ears. Then, through sobs and heavy breathing, with his eyes fixated on my nipple, he said "Yes, SIR! Oh, god, yes SIR! Please let me suck your beautiful chest, SIR! I want so bad to taste it, and to make you feel good. Oh, God! You're so incredibly beautiful and handsome. So fucking hot!" Here he broke down and tears began to form at the corner of his eyes. The boy was actually crying, he was so overwrought at discovering his inferiority compared to me. "I wanted to serve you and do anything you command me, but now I know I'm not good enough. I'm afraid of what you said about your cock - I know it must be truly massive, and I don't think I can suck it. And your chest..." More sobs. "...it's so, so incredibly huge, it makes me feel so small. I've never felt so tiny. I've always thought I was such a hot fucker. But I'm nothing. Not compared to you, SIR. You're such a man. So perfect. Why did you tell me to come to you? A god like you can have anyone he wants. Why me, SIR? Why me? Oh, god, I feel like such a worthless worm..." He trailed off, closing his eyes. His tears dripped off the end of his nose and fell into the jungle of hair covering my belly. I felt sorry for him. The cocky asshole was just a subterfuge for an insecure boy. Here was a man faced with the brutal truth of his inadequacy when confronted with a superior being. Here also were the beginnings of contrition, and a desire to take his appropriate place in the order of things, now that that order was beyond doubt. I reinforced my grip on his neck and barked "SUCK!" as I drove his mouth onto my waiting nip. He instinctively opened his lips and began sucking, stilly crying, with his whimpering increasing in tempo and pitch. His tears flowed faster, splashing onto my pec which was also beginning to glisten with the sweat of my excitement in breaking this man. But I found myself dissatisfied with his efforts, feeling that I was not receiving the full benefit of what he should be able to provide. After a few minutes of very tentative nursing, I said "What the fuck are you doing, son? Are you even on that teat? You'll have to be a lot less timid to get my attention, little man. Suck harder, and chew a little bit and let's see if you can!" Again some hesitation, then compliance. I could feel a faint tingling as he began to apply something more like what I really wanted, although he still had a long way to go in learning to service me this way. "Harder, son!" He sucked and chewed harder. The pleasure in my nipple increased, and my cock began to grow in response. "FUCK YEAH, BOY! SUCK THAT MAN NIP!" It was like turning up a volume knob. The boy went into a frenzied overdrive of sucking and chewing, beginning to sweat. The pleasure he was creating was something I had not felt before in this life. It was an intense mix of pleasure and pain that was further drawing out old-me and getting him plenty aroused. "AWWWWW.....FUCK!" I heard myself yelling, expelling huge clouds of cigar smoke with every breath. Then, without warning, I forcefully relocated his head to the other side. "Now the other one, boy. SUCK!" By now, he was getting the idea of nipple service, and I was feeling for the first time the intense pleasure I could experience when I had a slave to do my bidding. Clearly, my old-self was used to this, quite accustomed to this level of stimulation that could only come from a submissive man rendering service. (He) I let the sucking continue for a few minutes, then simply moved the boy's head away from the nipple and forced it to the cleavage between my mounded pectorals. "Lick." By now I had generated rivulets of sweat between the mats of hair that grew most dense in that valley, and I wanted to feel his tongue clean it out completely, which he did. I then raised my right arm and turned slightly to the left, guiding his head to my right pit. "LICK! Clean out that pit, boy!" He approached hesitantly until he got wind of the scent coming from there. Then he moaned softly and practically fell against me as he buried his face in the pubic hair, devouring the sweat and salt that had accumulated. I flexed the biceps of my right arm above him and commanded "Feel my arm, boy!" He only slightly disengaged from his pit diving expedition to raise his hands to feel. The muscle stood in a massive mound opposite the similarly flexed triceps beneath it, and the boy moaned as he realized he could never hope to encircle my arm with both of this hands. "Lick my biceps. Taste some man muscle." Dutifully, he began licking the mountains of muscle, and his whimpering increased. Under his breath, he began to moan "Oh, SIR! You're such a fucking MAN, sir! Oh, god, I want to please you so bad, SIR! I want you to use me. You deserve to use me. Please use me, SIR! Oh, god, use me, SIR! Please!" "FUCK YEAH, SON! Good boy!" I barked, continuing to smoke the cigar and blowing smoke over the whole muscle-worshipping affair. It intoxicated the boy further and he seemed to be on the verge of hyperventilating, gasping "...use me... ...so fucking huge... ...oh daddy... ...so hot..." between labored breaths. Rather than moving him to the other arm as the old-self seemed to think would be the appropriate next step, I instead caught the boy in my arms and lowered him to the floor on his knees, before the chair. I sat down, removed the cigar from my mouth, took a healthy swig of bourbon, replaced the cigar and drew heavily on it, then placed my left hand on the boy's head, guiding it to the crotch of my jeans and pressing his face there. "Nuzzle," I said, the smoke rolling from my mouth down my chest and belly and over the boy's head. I pressed him again for emphasis. He began to rub his nose around the area, and I felt irritation at his timidity. "NUZZLE, BOY! Get it wet with your spit!" Again, I pressed his face into the rough fabric, eliciting another yelp. But he got the message, and soon I could see a wet spot develop across the buttoned fly. My cock was beginning to take notice, stiffening quickly. The boy was getting excited at the growing member just inches from his face, though hidden still by the denim. I became concerned I might reach a climax too soon, he was getting me so hot. "Not yet!" I said to myself. My cock instantly stopped growing. Then, like a childhood memory you've forgotten until you hear a song you haven't heard since those early years, I had full recollection and utility of the ability, developed over past lives, to create and alter erections and ejaculation at will. "Fuck yeah...." I said out loud, regarding the import of this revelation. The boy, of course, thought I was further complimenting him and mumbled "Thank you, SIR!" through the folds of my jeans. I realized there was no danger of pre-ejaculation, so I willed myself to continue enlarging until there was a sizeable, constrained lump beneath the fabric. The boy's state of arousal grew with my cock, and he was moaning as he covered the mound of my hidden dick with his spit. After a few more minutes of smoking and enjoying the boy's nuzzling, I lifted his head. "Look at me, son. How are you feeling? Do you like what you're doing?" I was truly interested to hear what he would say. I knew instinctively that some boys just want to be fucked, and they'll do anything, including faking the submissive role, to get it. Although I had little doubt about this boy's sincerity after all that had happened so far, I wanted to hear it out loud. "Oh, yes, SIR! I will do anything you tell me to do! Just, please don't send me away. Even if you let me sit in a cage in the corner to be in the same room with you, don't make me leave! I will be your footstool again, SIR, or clean your house. Anything! Just tell me, beautiful and powerful master. Tell me and I will do it!" My new-self was flabbergasted at this outburst from the man before me. Old-me wa not surprised in the least, but seemed to fully expect the reaction based on a vast experience of similar interactions. The boy had totally given himself to me and was mine to do with as I pleased. The formalism of his speech made it impeccably clear that he now revered me and saw any service he could render as an act of holy devotion. These thoughts made my cock jump beneath the saliva-soaked denim. I knew I wanted to breed him, and make him mine. His admission only served to make me crueler and more abusive in my use of him, because I could, and he craved it. "Lick my boots, boy!" "Sir?" "I SAID FUCKING LICK MY BOOTS, FAGGOT!" With that, I bent over, placed my firm hand on the back of his head again, and maneuvered it to the floor and my right boot. "LICK." He dutifully began to lick. I thought it was amazing he even had the courage to lick a dirty boot, but old-me didn't think so, nor was he satisfied. "That's piss-poor, boy. Not how you lick a man's boot! Get that tongue going. I want to feel the pressure of it on my foot inside the boot. And cover every goddamned inch or you'll know what it means to feel some real disciplinary pain. I want to see it shining with your spit in the candlelight." The boy increased the pressure of his licking, and the feel of his pathetic tongue trying to reach me through the thick leather of the boots had me vocally encouraging and degrading him simultaneously. "Aw, yeah, son! That's how you lick a man's boots. You're a fucking faggot that was born to lick my boots, boy. Don't forget it!" "Yes, SIR!" he managed to get out in gasps between licks. "I WANNA HEAR YOU SAY IT, SON: I'M A FUCKING FAGGOT THAT WAS BORN TO LICK YOUR BOOTS, SIR! SAY IT!" I was yelling at the top of my lungs. Even though I live on five acres, I was sure the neighbors had probably heard that one. Old-me hoped they had. Immediately, in a high-pitched hurried stream of words he shouted, "I'm a fucking faggot that was born to lick your boots, most beautiful, handsome, and all deserving SIR!" The embellishment was unexpected, but very pleasing and I said so. "DAMN RIGHT, SON!" THAT'S WHAT I WANTED TO HEAR. NOW, OTHER BOOT!" It took a moment for the command to sink in, and I started to bend forward to enforce the order when he quickly jumped to the other side. "Good boy!" I roared, sinking back and puffing on my cigar in approval. He was learning. I was pleased. This one would be a good, long term project to train. And that thought, I knew, came from the old-me, who was used to identifying and sorting boys based on their abilities and potentials. After another few minutes of verbal encouragement mixed with abuse, I retargeted the boy again. "Crotch. Nuzzle." Without hesitation this time, the boy was back to the wet crotch, lathing it again with more of his spit. He didn't seem sure what to do with his hands, though. He just held them out to the side, apparently afraid to touch me, and it annoyed me. "What's wrong with your arms, boy?" He responded without removing his face from my crotch, "Nothing, SIR!" "Then why the hell are you holding them out there like some kind of rag doll?" He stopped nuzzling and looked up at me quizzically. "I don't dare touch you, SIR, without your permission." "Damn, good boy," I thought. "Learning fast and definitely a keeper." I was immensely pleased at this response, which further confirmed that he now regarded me quite appropriately as a godlike figure. I said out loud, "When nuzzling, you are permitted to reach up and feel my chest, or to feel my legs or boots. In fact, when you eventually service my cock, I'll expect you to damn well worship chest, belly, arms, balls, legs and boots with your hands while your mouth continuously pleasures me." "Yes, SIR!" he said, clearly excited at the prospect. "In fact, son, I think it's time for you two to meet," I said as I placed the cigar in mouth and reached down to unbutton the fly. I thought that my cock should be semi-erect and average length for the introduction. It responded to the thought in seconds, taking its new shape just as I exposed it. "Oh..." the boy gasped. He was wide-eyed and hypnotized by this display of pure manhood. "You like it, son?" "SIR, it is beautiful! Oh, Daddy! Let me worship and please you through it! Please?!" He had called me "Daddy." I wasn't going to object. We had already established my superiority, my worthiness to demand his worship, and now we were further establishing my role as mentor and father-figure. "We'll have to train you, son. It won't be easy, and you will be damaged unless I prepare you for it. Do you think my cock is large?" He slowly nodded his head, "Oh, yes, SIR! So perfect!" "It is only half hard, boy. I want you to see the full extent of your daddy's manhood, and you'll know why training will be important." With that, I extended my cock to full length, girth, and hardness. The new-me was as astonished as the boy. I had no idea I could achieve such dimensions! Until now, I had measured 7-inches in length and just under 6-inches in circumference. The fleshy column that now sprung from my loins was more than formidable. Without a ruler I couldn't be sure, but it was at least twice as long and half-again as big around as normal. Only the most trained of mouths and holes could hope to satisfy it in that form. The boy was clearly thinking the same thing. He turned white as a sheet, his face fell with dismay, but an expression still mixed with awe. I thought he would remark at the unexplained change in size, but any observation or comment was cut short by the dominating, hypnotic effect of the fully erect 14-inch monster cock. "Oh, SIR! You are a god, SIR! Your cock is a god-cock, SIR! Oh, fuck, what am I going to do, SIR? I want to suck it and service it so badly! I want to show you that I can be a good boy and bring you incredible pleasure as you deserve and demand, to have it in me, but it would kill me!" "Not necessary for you to die, boy. You'll learn to handle it over time," said the old-me with assurance. The new-me was not at all sure any man could take this phallus in its fully grown form, especially this boy of a man; but, then I had yet to learn about the transformative powers of my cum. Clearly, old-me had already taken this into account. "Sniff it, boy." I puffed on the cigar and sent smoke to enwreathe the pillar of flesh, the mushroom head of which rose as high as my sternum. The boy dutifully brought his nose closer and inhaled. "Good boy. Smell my god-cock!" He took several more deep breaths before I further commanded, "Now, kiss it. Up and down the shaft." Which he dutifully did. The feeling of his tender lips on the flesh of my rock hard fucker was creating tiny explosions of pleasure up and down that freakishly huge shaft, and I knew that this boy was going to work long and hard to fully satisfy my needs this evening. I was damn well going to make sure he did. "Now, I know you can't take it all, son, but just put the head of it into your mouth as far as you can. You'll gag, and I want that. It will help your body to understand just how inferior of a man you are to me. You need to feel and experience the physical reality of what your head and heart already know." Old-me was really well versed in how to cow a man quickly. The boy opened his mouth as wide as he could, but couldn't bring it down over the great domed head of my cock. Getting past it was impossible as long as I kept it in the fully engorged state. "Here, son. I'll help you." I placed my hand on the back of his neck, pressing down, while at the same time reducing the circumference of the shaft and glans until it slid tightly between his cracking lips. His eyes closed, he didn't witness the unnatural diminishment of my girth, but sighed contentedly at having accommodated me, though he didn't yet understand how he had done it. Slowly he advanced his painfully stretched lips, having to stand up and bend over slightly in order to align his mouth and throat with the near 90-degree angle of my cock. But he could take no more than an inch of my length before he began to gag and cough, and my cock twitched with pleasure on every vibration that emanated from his straining body. I laughed, hand on his head, pressing his head further onto my godlike appendage. I began to experience the distant desire to achieve a release, but I knew I wouldn't allow myself the luxury of it for some time yet. The boy dutifully continued in his impossible assignment. In spite of the amusement and sexual enjoyment his spasms provided, I finally said, "Alright, son. Back off of it." He pulled his head up and off the imposing fuck tool, leaving a string of thick spit between his lower lip and the head. "Well, son, how does it make you feel, trying to suck that cock?" "Very small. Very unworthy. Very puny, SIR. I'm surprised I could even get the head of it into my mouth." At this thought, he tilted his head slightly as if realizing something was amiss. Again with the formal style, which he clearly was getting off on using to interact with his new master, he continued: "Since I can't bring you the pleasure you deserve with my pathetic mouth, I beg you to take pleasure from my ass, instead, even though I know it will likely kill me. I would die very happy knowing you had received the satisfaction you are due, and that your god-cock had found enjoyment from my body, even if only for a few moments." I was moved by his devotion, and decided I would also adopt the stilted, formal style of communication he had initiated. It seemed proper. Old-self clearly found it appropriate to the situation. "Again, I say 'not necessary,' boy. I will moderate the dimensions of my cock to suit the situation, as I have already done twice and you failed to notice. Your cock has a mind of its own, but mine is always under my control. Over time you will be able to take the full extent of my godhood." Again, new-me didn't understand why I said this, but it felt right. And, immediately, I willed my cock to a 7-inch by 5-inch slightly larger-than-average dick that the boy could manage, though still with a great deal of effort. His eyes flew open in shock as he saw my penis diminish on cue. "Fuck, SIR! How did you do that?!!" He was truly awestruck now. "Because I am, as you have already acknowledged, a FUCKING GOD." Then, with cigar in mouth, I abruptly stood up from my chair, causing the boy to topple onto his back, nearly missing the mirror. As he looked up at me, I struck my most impressive muscular double-biceps pose, bringing my cock back to full size and heavily drawing on the cigar to release thick, billowing clouds for added effect. Looking down on him with an imperious expression through the dense smoke, I said loudly and flatly: "WORSHIP ME." I held the pose and produced more smoke, growling deeply at the pleasure I felt in displaying my superiority and the effect it produced. The boy recovered to get back on all four knees, head down between my boots, mumbling, "Yes, my master! Yes, my god! Use me, my master! I will be and do anything you want me to, master, just let me worship and serve you!" I continued to hold my pose and smoke, listening to his words of worship and praise, and his heartfelt request to take him into my service, and I was moved to do just that. I would make him mine, and he would be the first of many, though I didn't understand that at the time. Restoring my cock to the size he could manage, I relaxed my pose, tousled his hair, and sat down. The fabric of my jeans was constraining to me, even though the fly was open. I also wanted the boy to get the full picture of my physical superiority, which included my massive legs. "Let's get these jeans off, son," I rumbled. "Remove my boots, first. They zip on the inside." It took a few moments for these words to register, but the boy dutifully chose a boot and searched for the zipper. Finding it, he pulled it down to the base and began pulling the boot off. It was a more difficult chore than he had surmised. "Harder than you thought it'd be, huh, son? I'm a big man, so it takes a good bit of strength to manage my footwear - especially my boots. Just pull straight out and you'll have better success." He took my advice and the boot was soon off. He was about to set it aside, when I caught him. "Smell it. Inside. Deep." He opened the top of the boot like a Halloween treat bag to look inside and tentatively sniffed. I leaned forward and grabbed the back of his head in my right hand and the bottom of the boot in my left, forcing them together. "DEEP, SON! Smell me!" He inhaled deeply and sighed. Then he took several more draughts before reluctantly setting the boot to the side. "Not too far away, son. It goes back on in a minute. Now the other one." After repeating the same routine on the other boot and setting it aside, I stood up briefly to let my jeans slide down to my feet. I was wearing no underwear, anticipating having him suck me off tonight. My cock sprung forward in its limited yet semi-rigid configuration. My quadriceps and glutes filled his view from his knee-level vantage point. He looked up at me, now mostly naked in the flickering candle light except for my hat, leather bracelet and socks, and said "Oh, fuuuuuuck.... Oh, fuuuuuuck!" I sat back down as he regained his composure and slid the garment over and off of my feet. "Fold them. Set them aside." And he did. "Now, boots back on." And he quickly and dutifully replaced them, albeit with a great deal of effort, and pausing ever so slightly to let his hands wander up the extent of my calves and thighs. "Now come closer, son, on your knees." He took the submissive position between my naked legs, boots on either side of his shins and I stiffened my cock. Then, I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down onto it. "Suck, son. Take your time. There's no hurry." As I gently pushed into the confines of his sweet mouth, he began to suck so tenderly and so purposefully that I was launched into a state of sheer ecstasy. Although the dimensions did not change, my cock achieved rock hard firmness as my sweet boy made love to it. His worship, his sacrifice of bodily exertion, and the look of earnest devotion on his face as he labored to please me made me feel like a god, indeed. I luxuriated in the knowledge of my superiority over not just him, but any man I might choose. Then I heard old-me giving orders to change the boy's technique. "Up and down the shaft, boy. You're sucking cock, not just nibbling on the head." Dutifully, the boy began moving his lips up and down the length of my swollen member. I had thought he was doing a good job, but now the pleasure more than doubled. Old-me knew how to work a boy well. "Good, son. That's it. Just like that for now. Don't forget those nips!" By this time, my cigar was nearly a nub and the glass of bourbon was empty. With my cock fully engaged in the boy's care, his eager fingers tweaking my nips, caressing my big chest and belly, I unwrapped another cigar, cut the end, and lit it, then poured some fresh liquor. Sighing contentedly, I settled back a little in the chair to resume my reverie as the boy continued his service. "Fuck yeah, son...." I rumbled lazily, "...that's how you do it. Just like that." And for the next 30 minutes, I was not inclined to change a thing. The boy sucked. I smoked and drank. The pleasure was intense yet sustainable. I could have gone for hours, but he was clearly beginning to tire, so I said, "Ok, son, let's pick up the pace a little. Faster, but not much." And he did as ordered. The change in tempo again heightened the pleasure, which I thought wasn't possible, but still wasn't enough. After a few minutes, I started fucking his face instead of letting him simply suck. He became a receptacle of pleasure. His teeth scraped against my mighty cock as I viciously raped his beautiful orifice. I was breathing and sweating heavily, and I could tell that an immense load was building up inside me. Although I now knew that I could control my orgasm and have it at any time I chose, it didn't mean I wanted to defer it indefinitely. Far from it - I wanted to release my seed into this boy and take ownership of him for good. That is exactly how the thought entered my mind, and it seemed very strange: taking ownership, with absolute certainty, forever. This certainty that, by feeding the boy cum, I would irreversibly own him did not make sense to the new-me. Old-me was, of course, quite comfortable with it. Then the idea of owning the boy forever scared me, because of the responsibility it would entail. But old-me knew that the boy would rather live owned by me than not, even if it meant receiving my seed just this one time. As I mulled these thoughts and ferociously ravaged his mouth, the image in the mirror drew my attention. I saw me, the unassailably impassioned, insanely masculine leather musclegod, cigar aflame, smoke pouring from his bearded mouth, lustfully using his property for its intended purpose. His powerful thrusts were sure and intentional, and the look of intense bliss on his handsomely mature face as he looked out of the mirror and back at me showed that he was being served as he was accustomed, in the manner that was due a god of his magnificence. In contrast, the boy was harshly used, but hardly a mere accessory. Submitting to the will of his master, unable to smile due to the nature of his service, he nonetheless exuded contentment in his posture and motions as he provided the pleasure he knew his god could justly demand from him. I imagined what it would be like to enter the boy's ass and fuck him, depositing my superior seed directly into his bowels. Cigar clenched between my teeth, his ass exposed as he bent over my chair, offering up his warm, wet hole to his god, who had every right to take and enjoy it. The cock enlarged to its full extent, plunging beyond his tight sphincter and into depths of the fleshy cavity beyond. The drive to pound him, fuck him, use him, teach him, and even love him as one would a devoted and faithful pet. The moment of release, him yelling beneath me as he reached his own puny orgasm, followed by my own roar of satisfaction at breeding him. And I saw, too, a vision of how his cells would begin to change, the process that would rewrite his DNA with my own, to better serve his god and master. I fully understood who and what I was, and what the boy was, and how our relationship was good and right. This image was so hot, so perfect, so exactly what I wanted that I made the decision to cum at that moment - the fucking would eventually follow, but for now I wanted to seal the boy's fate as my property. I wanted other boys. I wanted as many as I could get. I wanted to own them and use them and teach them to do the same within the limits of what they were capable. "CALL IT OUT, BOY!" I suddenly yelled. "CALL OUT MY CUM, SON!" The boy began to moan and wail while my cock continued to pound his mouth. The added vibrations put me over the edge, now that I had allowed it. With a growing rumble that became a sudden roar, I went rigid with my hand holding the boy's head down on my cock, and the cigar lodged firmly between my teeth. And then I came. I had never come like this. The spasms seemed endless. My roar was sustained and filled with animal lust, and the satisfaction of that lust. The boy at first tried to disengage from my cock, but my hand gave him no options. Then, as my semen pumped directly down his throat, he realized he must swallow or drown in it, so he swallowed. Cum was spitting from his nose as he struggled to keep up with the flow. Finally, the stream waned and I sank back into the chair breathing heavily, to recover from the sudden release of so much energy. I still held him down on the cock and he was breathing heavily through his nose now, with thick white globs of cum still spitting from his nostrils and dangling from the corners of his mouth. I released his head, but he didn't try to disengage. Instead, he resumed sucking my still hard cock, moaning softly to himself, and working to recover as much cum as he could. It was obvious he relished the taste and wanted more. I now knew how it would affect him, and why he would relish it and want more. The transformation would take many months, and it would become more profound the more I fed or fucked him. His chest would deepen. His beard, thicken. Voice, deepen. Height, increase. His mouth and ass would become more flexible and better adapted to service my cock at full size. Parts of me would be reborn in him, my son. After recovering from the explosion of cum and energy, the boy instinctively went to the first position I had taught him - face to the floor kneeling between my boots - and waited. "Well done, son," I said, tousling his hair while blowing more cigar smoke over and around him, enveloping him like a tangible cloak. "I am yours, SIR. I belong to You. Please use me!" And I acknowledged him. "Yes, you're mine, son. And, yes, I will use you, and teach you to be more suitable for my service." I handed him a small towel from beneath the table at my side. "Wipe down, dress up, and go home. We'll stay in touch. Dismissed." I went back to smoking and enjoying my bourbon as if he no longer were in the room. He quietly dressed as instructed and left. ***** That was the first of many similar encounters that saw me quickly grow into and reclaim the abilities I had acquired in recent lives. I also learned that, with every ejaculation, I recharged to be even more powerful, more strong, more muscular, more in-tune with myself and my boys than I had been before. The changes were very subtle and only noticeable over many months and years, but over time, I was transformed further into the fully matured musclegod I am today. But physical size and masculine features aren't the full extent of what I have become. Stamina has increased. My endurance seems endless. Although I have the face of a brutally handsome older man, my body doesn't seem to age. Disease and sickness are distant memories. And I've learned to love. It's new this time around, I think. Until now, my lives focused on achieving superiority and learning to wield it without question. Now I am experiencing the new dimension of caring for my boys, cultivating them, raising them up from the status of mere men. Certainly, the physical transformation brought about by the peculiar characteristics of my ejaculate is unusual, even miraculous. But "training" is more than just restructuring genes, teaching protocol, and drilling skills pertaining to sexual and domestic service. It is much more about touching the boy's soul, evoking a deep and devoted love response, putting me in the center of his life, and him being thankful for any involvement I may have in his, even if only a one-time encounter. In this life, I find that I don't like the idea of forcing someone to love me - that seems inhumane. And though I may be superior, the compassion that has evolved inside me would never coerce a boy to love me, although none I have ever engaged has failed to do so. The truth is that any man I claim comes to me willingly and happily. Once he experiences me, sees my superiority first hand, and I breed him, he's mine. His only desire is to satisfy my desires, make me proud perhaps as a leather daddy himself, or just see me glance down at him as he serves me and say "Well done, son!"

Hello MG Forum, it's me again. My growth game has been tweaked and I'd appreciate some help sweeping it for new bugs. *** Online Gameplay Link: http://bit.ly/1t9igF4 Offline Download Link: http://bit.ly/1t4OTVa If the online link gives you an error straight off the bat, please download it and play it in your browser. ***(This block has been copied from my FA page, the same rules will apply here) MAKE THESE ASSUMPTIONS:- All content is subject to change- All written text are placeholders- All present content is buggy as balls DO THESE THINGS:- Save often- Repeatedly visit all scenes and zones- Buy every item you see- Talk to every NPC you meet- Interact with every object you find- Report any and all suspected bugs- Report dead end scenes (no way to turn back)- Provide as much information as possible during bug reports DO NOT DO THESE THINGS:- Report minor spelling or gramatical errors (see assumptions)- Demand content or recommend changes (see assumptions)- Leave bugs unreported- Report bugs without providing details- Submit content without being asked to do so- Demand co-ownership of game for any reason *** As with the last time, I'm submitting this in a bid to increase the number of alpha testers. I've overhauled large chunks of the game and finally added in the inventory system, so no more losing your clothes whenever you buy new ones, everything now lands in your wardrobe back home. Several zones have also been merged with the new Irongard City and the Character Creation menu at the start has been completely redone to fit in with the new (placeholder) storyline. Do note that this game also contains furry features, I simply have no choice since the furry growth audience surpasses the regular one and I personally do not discriminate, muscle is muscle to me and that's really all that matters. You do not have to test this game if you do not like furry characters (there are/will be humans too!), but I'd greatly appreciate it if my inbox could be spared any hatemail. To assist in the testing process, the cheating system (Data Tablet) is still present in game for debugging purposes. Thanks for not running me out of town like the old forum did! That is all, Waffle out. EDIT: Just a curious question, how willing will you guys be to submit content to me? For example, to write a naughty scene under a number of rules and a predetermined word limit before then turning it over to me for coding? (This assumes submission is of acceptable quality and that credit will also be given where it is due.)

Hello, here is the fourth and last installment. Sorry it took a while; real life sometimes has to take precedence. Hope you all enjoy this conclusion chapter. - Frank. Antialpha Part 4 By F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2656-antialpha/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2667-antialpha-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2753-antialpha-part-3/ Early in the morning, Bo began to awaken very, very slowly. He began to hear some things, whispers, quiet movement about his apartment long before his eyes and his mind opened and was awake enough to take everything in. As he lie there still semi-asleep, he tried to figure out if he was still in the same little rented apartment Mr. Ogle had told him about and if he was in the same bed. He also tried to figure out if what he thought were his last few days were nothing but a dream, a nightmare in some deep comatose kind of slumber. He moved his body slightly. Primarily just his hands and his feet. Doing so still sent signals to him that he was huge, gigantic even, and that his body was extremely heavy, not just because of being very tall either. His hands and feet felt like they stretched on, almost for several feet, he thought. However, he fit in the bed. His feet weren't finding the end of the mattress and he was pretty sure when he collapsed last night he was damn near a foot longer than the mattress was. But there was something odd about the mattress, too. Somewhere about midway to the top of his calves there was a hump...a line....a break in the mattress? As if there were two sections to it? Finally his mind was awake enough, Bo decided he needed to try and get up and figure out what was going on, what he needed to do. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up propped up on his elbows. This small act left him a little dizzy. "Oh!... shhhh sshhhh shhhh, sit back, Mr. Ainsworth. Here, let me prop up some pillows for you so you can sit up as you sit back. You will need to take it easy for a bit, you've been out for a couple of days, maybe three or four, so you're going to be a bit weak. Especially after your growth spurt." Bo looked at Mr. Ogle his doorman from his real apartment complex and looked down at his arms, forearms, and hands. His upper arms were probably bigger round than Mr. Ogle's waist and his hands look like they could palm Mr. Ogle's head single handedly without any problem. Bo began to sob a little bit as he looked down at his barreling, hairy pectorals, that blocked all view of the rest of his body, except perhaps for the rising peaks of covers way far away at the end of the bed caused by his massive puppies that were his feet. "I'm a freak...my life is over... how am I ever going to..." "Shhhh shhh shhhhh... Mr. Ainsworth, everything will be alright. When we couldn't wake you on the what was the third day, the day we let ourselves into this apartment and found you, I took the liberty of getting things arranged. I don't know how things happened as they did for you to become the...massive man-mountain you are now, but I could recognize you by your face still, and I knew you would need a bit of help getting adjusted to your new life. "We came in here and found you, semi lying on the bed, legs and feet dangling off the ends. The sheets were covered in sweat and there was something in a pool near your crotch. It wasn't excrament, nor seminal fluid, but it did look biological, but it had completely dried and become inert. So, we managed to hoist you this way and that, get those bed sheets out from under you and I took them to the incinerator and burned them. Then we built a temporay extension for the bed so you could, at least lengthwise, lie comfortably on the bed. After than we made some new sheets and after pushing and pulling and rolling you about this way and that, got the bed made, brought in some very big and sturdy pillows and got you set up to rest properly. We then brought in some people who took measurements and set about to order you some new clothes, which you were going to desperately need." "You keep saying, we. Who else is there that is helping you." "That would be the gentleman who is in the kitchen right now preparing your breakfast. He says he knows how to cook a 'big man's meal.'" "Stop saying that!" "Why? Mr. Ainsworth, there is nothing you can do. You certainly can't shrink back down again, so you're just going to have to accept this new size. And you will need to acclimate yourself to it very well. You can't walk through doorways like most people, for that matter like most tall people you can't even simply duck, you're far too broad in the shoulders, back, chest, and lats to do that, and that doesn't even count your arms. The amount of muscle you have on you makes you so heavy, you'll have to check every chair someone offers you to sit in, and just know right off the bat anything made of wicker is off limits." "Ooooh." "And if your strength is anything comparable at all to the size of your muscles, you'll have to be careful when being jovial amongst friends. A simple slap on the back from you could send an average man lurching forward a couple of feet." "BUT I'M A TWINK! I'M A BOTTOM! I don't want to be a hulking figure!" "I'm sorry Mr. Ainsworth, but at 7' 6" tall, 780 lbs, size 26 shoe, and upper arms that are 38.25" around ... cold ...you simply are no longer a twink. You are anything but, and unless you plan on killing yourself, which as dense as your muscle fibers seem to be I doubt you can get either a bullet let alone a knife to penetrate to be successful at that, you are simply going to have to adapt and cope." "How? My livelihood was being a bottom. Who wants to bottom with son of hulk? How am I going to make my living, earn presents..." "I think I can help you with that..." Looking up at the doorway startingly, Bo saw a familiar face standing there with a tray piled to over flowing with pancakes, fruit, ham stakes, and shakes of some kind. The amount of food piled on there had to weigh and incredible amount, so it couldn't be some average let alone small man who was holding that tray so steadily. It wasn't. It was what Bo would once have considered a pretty tall and built man, around 6' 3" in height, about 245 - 255lbs, medium length brown hair, big hazel puppy dog eyes, gorgeous smile. It was Jessie. "Hey... uhm..." "It's Jessie." "Jessie...what are you doing here?" "I had to find out what those men did to my date didn't I? Even if you were considering me a one night stand, still would've been rude to simply walk away and think, 'Oh, well. He's been kidnapped.' and done nothing." "I appreciate the concern, but how can you help me out with...with... with this!" and Bo raised up both his arms and did double bi pose, sitting up in bed. Jessies eyes widened slightly and lit up like a Christmas tree. "Well, do you like to act?" "What? ... I guess, I could. I never really auditioned for anything in my life because I was too short. Now, I'd be too big." "Depends upon what kidn of role you're playing. With a little bit of training, I think you might be able to make more money than you were before, much more money and as for the personal side of what you want..." And Jessie leaned in over the piled tray of food and kissed Bo fully on the lips. He then sat up, looking at Bo, fumbled with his pants button and zipper and then hoisted out a floppy python of an appendage that began to lengthen and grow and thicken and rise and harden until it looked positively huge. Bo stared at it wide-eyed, semi smiling. "Fourteen inches. My dad wasn't a horse, but was at least a donkey. Compared to you that is. Which if you'd care to know, has grown to a terrifying but oh so scarily sexy 22 inches long when erect." "Twenty-two!...." "Shhhhhhh... If you allow me to help you... if you trust me, I think we can guaruntee to satisfy your monetary needs - and then some - and your personal desires as well. You see, I love twinks... oh yeah...usually because they're bottoms. They love to take it and the bigger it is the better they want to take it. However, I am at just my mere fourteen inches overly endowed, I could find a lot of guys to take it, so my fantasy has always been to find a man bigger than I am. Bigger and stronger. That way I'm pretty sure he could take my cock and my rough sex and it wouldn't hurt him in the slightest. We seem to hit it off really well the other night at the club, even beyond sexual talk. I really liked you. I really...really like you in this hulking form right now.... any harder and my cock may grow." And Jessie laughed a bit. "So, if you'd care to, maybe we can strike up a real relationship, I can give you everything you want as a bottom, and you can fulfill my fantasies as a top." "But how do we take care of my monetary needs. How will I pay for stuff, earn a living?" "Leave that to me...." ***************************************************************************** [PRIVATE ROOM SHOW STARTING IN 3......2.......1.......DING!] "Alright...is everyone logged in? If not, too bad you miscreant midgets, as you're locked out right......NOW!" [DING! ROOM CLOSED FOR PRIVATE VIEWING ONLY. ONLY PREPAID VIPS MAY NOW ACCESS IN MIDDLE OF SESSION] "It's time to see what a real man does! OOOOMPH! You all like these? You like these guns? Fuck, these aren't guns... these are howitzers! Battleship canons, boys! You all wish you could have arms like these. But no one can! I'm Too....FUCKING.....HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE! "Why the hell is the world so small? Look at this door way. What the fuck? the frame only comes up to my chin! Too fucking short! The width of the frame only somes out to my chest...if that! Can't walk straight through. Well I could, but I'd take the frame and hald the side walls out if I did. It doesn't accomodate my arms, my shoulders, my lats. Who makes doors like this? This is a friggin' house for a child!" knock knock knock... "What was that? Sounded almost like a mouse in the wall or something. One of you milksops trying to come in and see me? SOMEONE KNOCKING ON MY DOOR? KNOCK LIKE A FUCKIN' MAN IF YOU WANT IN!" Knock Knock... "I SAID KNOCK LIKE A FUCKING MAN!" KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK "That's more like it! Let me get that door!" Keeeeeruuuuunccccch! "Oh, fuckin shit! What the hell do they make doors out of now a days? Paper?" A young man is standing in the doorway. He has taken a step back and is clearly doing a double take upon seeing Bo and all his size, and now his strength as he's just accidentally ripped the door off the hinges. "Don't stand their gauking, lil boy, come in and introduce yourself." "uhmm hmmmm... hi... I'm uh...I'm....Caleb..." "Speak up! You are a man, aren't you?" "a-haha ha ha huh huh uhm...yeah... I'm... I'M CALEB." "Nice to meet you Caleb. I'm Bo. You'll meet my Bo staff later. So, you came to meet a giant tonight, huh?" "yesss..." "What?!" "YES, SIR!" "Oooooh, sir... I like you... you know how to treat an alpha male! Let's get to know each other first. Here... you sit down in my chair. A real man's chair... STURDY! STRONG! and I'll sit in this.... you sure this isn't a high chair with the platter missing?" CRRRRRRACKCRUMBLE! "FUCK! That chair was weak! Couldn't even sit in it for more than a second. What the hell do they make for you small boys? Here... I'll just sit on the floor. Huh....even sitting on the floor I think my head still reaches where yours is sitting in my chair. You supposedly aren't a small boy though are you?" "N..nn... no, sir." "You're supposedly average aren't you?" "Five...five foot eleven, sir." "Five-eleven...good size...good size... and you look like you have some kind of build, some kind of musculature about you." "I'm...I'm a gymnast..." "You're a gymnast... will have some decent size to you then... what are your upper arms?" "Six...sixteen..." "Sixteen... give us a gun show... go on! Raise 'em up there, Caleb. That's it... not bad... not bad... nice softball kind of peak forming there... but now these... OOOOOOMPH! These are the fuckin' matterhorns right here, boy! Dwarf your arm and your head at the same time." "Uh-huh! ooooh..." "What's a matter? Do these impress you? Not nearly as small as your little pop guns there. Go ahead and touch 'em... go on.... REACH FOR 'EM!" Tremblingly the young man puts his hands over Bo's massive arms and tries to squeeze and feel them up, but can make no dent in the marble to dimond like hardness of Bo's upper arms. "Oooooh OH! UH!...." "Caleb, you alright? What's wrong? Do you..... ha...hahahaha....HAHAHAHAHA! Lil boy as already stained himself?" "Sir...sorry, it's just.... sooo huge!" "Of course it's huge... because I am huge. Stand up! See, look at you...all five foot eleven of you and you come up to.... turn and face the mirror as I can't see anything past this pec shelf. And you.. the top of your head...doesn't even quite come up to my pecs do they? There's about an inch or so of room between your head and my pecs. Kick off your shoes...just kick them off over there in that corner... let me get these sandles off... Now place your foot next to mine. Whatchu think about that?" "Shit! Your feet are ginormous, sir!" "Size 26. What size shoe you wear?" "Eleven...sir." "Eleven... isn't that a kid's size? Look at that... I mean my foot...looks almost half a foot longer than yours! Put your foot in my sandle, how does that feel to be in a real man's shoe?" "It...it's heavy." "It's not heavy... it's only heavy to you cause you're so small! You bring extra clothes to wear for afterwards?" "Yes..." "Ok then... first hand exchange... put your hand up to mine... yeah... palm base to palm base... look at that... tiny, tiny hand. Haooooumph! Look at that.. I've closed my fingers over your hand. Mine could just swallow your hands up. Ok... take off your shirt and hand to me... let me take... hmmmph.....er.....see if I can..... when you're this huge, it's sometimes difficult to take your shirt up unless .... er....ah....unless...hooo hoooo hoooo WHooooo... unless it's a button down! AHHHH!" "Oh my gawd!" "What?" "You...you're...abs...lats... chest..." "Hmmmm like the feel of that... hmmmm yeah...run your fingers through the crevices of my abs and my obliques. Hmmm yeah feel the wings that are my lats and back....." "You're....uh...oh....just a......Oh!...." "You ok, Caleb?" "Just a wall, sir... uhhhhhnnnnnnnfffff." "Caleb, did your stain spot just get bigger?" "uhh...uhhhhuh....." "Well, I guess you can't help it, being in the presence of an Alpha Male God! OOOOOOMPH! HERRRRRRRRRE'S A CRAB SHOT FOR YOU!" "Ooooohh fuuuuuuuuck!" "Whoa! Easy there, Caleb. I've got you.. don't pass out yet. More to come. Hmmmmm yeah....run your hands over my abs and through all that hair. But first, put my shirt on." "Uhm...it fits like.... like a dress on me.... hangs down to my knees, the short sleeves hang to the middle of my forearms....the neck hole is trying to slip off my shoulders.... damn.... you are one big dude..." "YEP! Meanwhile, let's try on your shirt....arm goes through here...." tear..rip....RIP....RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! "Hahahahaaha...look at that, Caleb... my forearm busted your shirt sleeve wide open. Can I even get this thing on?" RIP! RIP! RIP! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! "Hahahahaha NO! I tried to get both my arms in and through and I simply pulled and tore the shirt in half. Its sleeves couldn't take my forearms and no way it could ever stretch over my shoulders, back, lats, and chest. See, folks! This is what I have to put up with. Things they say are average clothing is like baby to toddler size, extra larges aren't even large, what's a real man supposed to do? Alright, shuck your pants and lets try those.... .... .... What's wrong, Caleb?" "Uhmmm your pants... I can't pull them up... the crotch hits my crotch and I still have like a foot of fabric past my feet to pull up." "Well then lower them and try stepping into just one leg. ... ... ...Is that better?" "Uhmmm...ooooh.....I can fit... I can fit and almost move and walk in just one leg of your pants." "What happens if you pull them all the way up?" "The waist band comes all the way up to my chest." "Does it now? My you are tiny!" "No...you're... you're huge... a giant..." "Well, let's try on your pants.... first... I want to see.... let me pull these pants, one leg up my arm.... Oooh....calve area is getting a little tight there around my forearm....hmmmm hrrrrrrk.... hmmm just got it.... Ooooh man... your waist is a tight, tight fit around around my upper arm.... I wonder... HmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmRRRRRRRAAAAUUUGH!" POP ZIIIIIIING TICK TICK "HAHAHA LOOK AT THAT! My upper arm, popped the button off your waist band, and I think broke the zipper, and split part of the thigh seam on your pants too. Let's see what happens when I try to put the other leg on over one of my legs instead of my arm..." crr...crrr..crrr ccrr crrrr RRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! "WHOA! DID YOU SEE HOW THAT SEAM JUST BURST APART? I DIDN'T EVEN GET IT PAST MY CALVE! What you think about that, Caleb?... Caleb? Whatchu staring at, Caleb?" "y...y...your....your package, sir...." "Oh... that.... let me cup that for you! Hmmmmm yeah... had to make home made underwear to accomodate my body and my cock and ball size. You like that anaconda of mine, Caleb?" "It's.... it's so huge... sir..." "Why don't you go ahead and feel it? Yeah... that's it take that small hand of yours and caress it while it's all balled up. It's so big even your hand feels tiny next to it doesn't it? Go ahead...pull down my undies. Let's take a look at that thing." "OH MY GAWD!" "What?!" "That's.... (gulp)....monsterous... that's huge!" "It ain't even erect yet. It's as flaccid as it can me, soft, and pliable." "H...h...h.h...how big is it?" "What? Right now? sixteen inches." "SIXTEEN....sixteen inches..that's that's too..." "No, don't say that yet... go on and rub it.. caress it... now that you have it uncovered. Feel free to play with my massive balls too. Hmmmmm yeah... that's it.... OOOOh that feels so gooood." "It's... uhm... it's getting bigger..." "Yeah... it does that when it becomes aroused. Real man sized dick that gets even more manlier when turn on." "It's getting thicker! .... and longer! Oh my gawd!" "Yeah....keep working it... let it out...let grow.... and Grow....and GROW! Oooooh yeeeeeah! There... ahhhh there it... ISSSSSSSsssssssssssssss hmmmm it's totally rock hard now." "So...fucking huge....that can....that can't go.." "Hmmmm yeah...all the way up to it's muscular veiny marblized twenty-two inch size." "Twenty...gasp....hoooo..two....oh nooo..." "Yes, you paid for everything.... which means you get to experience that. But first... how big is your cock?" "seven..." "What was that?" "SEVEN! Uhm aha...seven...inches...sir." "And that's supposedly starting to get up there... but it's nothing compared to my meat log now, is it?" "Uhm no... no, sir..." "But you're worried and wonderin' aren't you. Well, you can earn my respect and a chance to get out of what you paid for, if you can bench some of my weight. Over there are several weight benches. One has my maximum bench press weight, one has one half of my bench press weight, the next has one fourth my bench weight, and the last has one sixteenth... if you can bench press one of those for me, you'll be out of the last part of the contract. Let's see what you can do.... "Hmmm starting off with the heaviest....come on, now you know you could do that.... down to one half....nope, no good... up to one forth now.....still not a go.... now you're down to one sixteenth.... oooh... the bar is kind of moving... his arms are shaking....the bar is rising... starting to rise more...up...up...up! OOOOh.... don't worry I've gotcha... I've gotcha! Oh, Caleb... you almost had it. You almost got that last set lifted. Must be around just what your maximum weight might be with a few more pounds of muscle.... Sorry, Caleb... drop your underwear and assume the position on the bed.... are we ready now? He we go.... feel that?" "OOOh that feels so huge!" "That's just my cock head rimmin' your hole... but now... in we gooooooo." "AAAUGH! ACK! OOOOH! GAWD! FUCK!" "Ohhh maaaaan what a tight ass! You sure you're not a virgin?" "Toooo much....sir.... " "I'm not even a fourth of the way in... you can surely take at least half? Like sooooooo." "AAAAAACK! MOTHER FUCK! SONOFABITCH! YOURDICKISHUGE!" "What was that? I didn't understand you, maybe a little more?" "SHIT! I SAID....UGH! ....HUH....HUH.... YOUR COCK....OOOOOH....IS......HUH....GIANORMOUS!" "Hmmmm yeah.... ok, we'll ease up on you a little bit... mark it off only on the half way point...and hmmmmm oooooh fuuuuuck...go to town from there...." "AAAAI OOOOH OOOOO HUUUUHGMFFFF (GULP -GASP) FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT DAMN OOOOOOO AAAAHUHHHHH SO....FRICKIN.....BIG!" "HMmmmm YEAH IT IS! A REAL ALPHA MALE'S COCK! How's your's doing? Should we help give it a rub?" "OOOOHH STT TT T T T TOP!" "Yes, I'm topping your tight bottom ass." "NO NO ST TT ST STOP RUBBING MY C-AAAAUWWCK! (PANT GASP) SO.... HUGE....FUCKIN ASS SPLITTING!" "Oh, no...need to rub you so you climax too, Caleb." "AAAAH GAUGH! UH-HUH HMMMMMMNFFFFF HOOOOOOO OOOOHHHH SHIT! AAAAAUGH AUGGH AUUUGH AUUUGH!" "What are you convulsing for? You can't be having an orgasm, nothing is coming out? Have you already started dry cumming? Damn! You need a pair of big boy balls like me! Hmmmm I think ....hoooo .... I'm ready...let me show you..." POP! "AAUUUUUUUUGH!" "Ok.... HHMMMMM UHHHHGH HOOOOO YEAH! BUILDING UP!....AND UP!...CLIMAX COMING! FROM YOUR TIGHT...... ASAAAAAAAAUUUH ASS..ASSS. STROKING MY SCHLONG....OOOOH FEW MORE ....HOOOO HUH MORE...MmmMORE SST ST TROKES....STROKES.....STROOO (SWALLOW) and....AND....AAAAAAAND! .... .... ...... HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH HU! HOOOOO! HEEEEE! HUUUUU FUUUUUUCK!" The first volley lands on Caleb's chest coasting it completely, the second hits him square between the eyes covering his face and seeping into his hair. Volley three strikes his chest again, sending the pool cascading over Caleb's shoulders and down into his abs, where the fourth volley strikes and begins coating the cobblestones. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten volleys continue streaming forth until Caleb is completely coated from head to crotch and part of his thighs. He is coughing, and spewing up some of the cum which he has inhaled as he lies gasping on the bed from his encounter. "And THAT! Is what a REAL SIZED MAN NEEDS to satisfy his urges! AUUUUUUUUUUGH!" Picking up the lowest weight of barbells, he curls them and then begins to bend the bar till it forms a nice little arch. The scene begins to fade to black with Caleb passed out on the bed, his face half contorted in pain the other half in a smile, while Bo's cock begins to become slightly smaller, hang limp, and thus dribble a pool of cum onto the floor.... [sESSION HAS ENDED. THANK YOU FOR JOINING THE BEHEMOTH BO FOR ANOTHER ENCOUNTER IN TOO SMALL A WORLD TOO SMALL OF PARTNERS TODAY. PLEASE CHECK THE SCHEDULE FOR NEXT LIVE CAM APPEARANCE. DING] ***************************************************************************** "Hello, lover.... that was fuckin' amazing?" "Really?" "I'm fuckin all boned over on it. I Think you made close to like twenty grand this evening." "Is Caleb going to be alright?" "Yeah.. he's fine. The doctors have looked him over. You went in that one time a little over 14 inches on him, that actually tore his anus a small amount, but it won't require stitches or a hospital stay; he just won't be able to have sex with anyone for a few months." "Oh man..." "Don't knock yourself out over it. It's all listed in the contract he signed off on and you didn't go to the sixteen inch mark... he's not incapacitated. He'll be alright. In the meantime... are you completely worn out?" "No.... I mean... I don't think I could spew spoo again so soon, but I'm not really tired at all?" "Good...because...that really got me horny..." "Jessie?...." "Very horny....for my hung hulk and his muscular ass..." Pinch "JESSIE!" "Come on....get in our bed...." "Hey! S...stop.. .stop...SS SSTOP! Stop fingering my hole!" "No... I want it...now!" "ooooohhhh.... ooooh.... Jessssssie...." "Take the robe off lover..." Bo, practically rips the terry cloth robe off of his Herculean sized frame, walks backwards and falls onto the bed... "Do you want me to flip over?" "No... raise them legs up....now put them down...Hmmmm yeah.... I love to grab onto those huge fucking quads and grapple with the hamstrings as I plu-UHHHHHNGE...nge..." "OOOOOH! JESSIE! FUCK!" "Plunge into your tight, muscular assssssss...... Oooooh yeah...take it....take it all! Take all of my fourteen inch cock!" "OOOOohhh GAWD YESSS! MY BIG BOY! MY MAN! OOOOH FUCK! AUUUUGH OH! OH! OH!" "HMMMMM SHIT YEAH....WHO'S MY GIANT BOTTOM!" "OOOOH HUUH HUH HUH I...I..." "I SAID, 'WHO'S MY GIANT BOTTOM?! MY CUM BOWL! MY SPERM RESERVOIR!'" "oooOOOOOOOOH OOOH! I AM! I AM! I'M YOUR BOTTOM BOY!" "WHO ARE YOU?" "AAAU AAAU AUUUU I.... I.... I AM BO THE BOTTOM BOY OF JESSIE!" "And don't..." "HUH!" "YOU!" SMACK! of the ass... "AAAACK! HAHAHAHAHAAHA" "FORGET IT!" "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!"

(this is my first story, hopefully a few folks like it. I need to finish it but figure I should post part 1!) I heard a rustle in the living room, it must have been what woke me up. It was Christmas Eve so my first thought is that the cats or dog were playing with ornaments on the tree. It was a nightly occurrence. We put non breakable ornaments on the bottom because there’s really no way to stop them from doing it when we’re not home, but still, I should make sure that’s all that was going on. When I stepped out of bed the dog wasn’t there which lead me to think she was messing around with the tree. I think I had a suspect. Then I noticed my partner wasn’t in bed either. Two suspects! Well, more likely one suspect eating cookies we had left out and another waiting for some treats. I walked out of the bedroom, rubbing my eyes since I was so groggy and turned the corner into the living room where our tree was set up. It was a little brighter in there than normal, but I really didn’t think much of it, the Christmas tree was up so everything was a little brighter. I didn’t have my glasses on but it looks like there were two people in there plus our dog. I really should have put on my glasses. Just then I heard my partner call my name. But there was certainly another man in the room and I was starting to put pieces of the puzzle together. I was thinking I should grab my glasses when I heard the other man say, “You don’t need your glasses right now, boy, come on over here.” My first thought was, “boy?” My partner doesn’t call me boy, I’m a pretty big guy at 6’2” and 240lbs so it’s not really a word I get called too often. But then my partner chimed in with, “C’mon over here pup.” When he calls me pup, I go weak in the knees, so I walked over to where he was sitting. As I approached from the hallway I could see more of the room. My partner was wearing a pair of briefs and a tank top and the other man… damn I could have put this together earlier… was Santa. Well, at least someone dressed like Santa. They were both sitting down, eating cookies, and as I’d expect, the dog was hoping for some crumbs to fall her way. It was hard for me to take in what I was seeing. It’s not like my partner to bring home some other guy in the middle of the night, especially a guy dressed like Santa. I mean, maybe it’s a Christmas present to me, I’m the one who has a bit of a Santa issue. But they way they were sitting it didn’t look like this was setting things up to fool around or anything. And I was a little more confused because my partner never called me “Pup” in front of other people. I walked over to my partner and he put his hand out and on my shoulder so he could pull me in a bit as I got closer. He could probably tell I was nervous. I didn’t know what was going on and without my glasses I couldn’t see very clearly, not a great combination. But it felt nice to be held in my partner’s arms, he pulled me close in for a hug. And a nice bear hug at that, he’s a good bit larger than me and I like that he can throw his arms around me and squeeze. Once he let go he said, “I bet you wonder what’s going on here, don’t you?” He didn’t really give me a chance to answer before he planted a kiss on my lips. If their goal was to keep me a bit confused, it was working. Just after the kiss Santa spoke up with, “And yes, boy, I’m really Santa. Reindeer and all. I appreciate the cookies you leave each year.” Then he winked that traditional Santa wink with a twinkle in his eye. It helped though, because I was feeling less anxious. “So you’ve been good all year, and for the past several years, boy. You’ve been on my special list. It just takes me a while to make the round. Plus I had to coordinate with your partner here before I could show up.” Santa said that, then turned his head toward my partner and winked. Damn, there is something about his wink that really gets to me. My partner nodded his head and said, “It wasn’t any problem… I love my pup and I’d do whatever to make him happy.” Santa looked back at me and told me how lucky I was… not everyone had a wonderful person like that in their life. I was still a bit dumbfounded but was able to respond with an “I know…” under my breathe at which point my partner doubled up on his hugging effort and squeezed me close. His big bearish arms wrapped around me and then kissed me on the forehead. My partner chimed in with, “What’s the one thing you always want me to do pup? To take care of myself?” At the moment, I couldn’t think of a thing. I really couldn’t blame being tired any longer, I think the shock of all this cleared those cobwebs long ago. But still my mind was blank. I think my partner could tell because he started talking, “You always ask me to go to the gym to be healthier and drop hints that you’d like me to lift weights, right?” Ding Ding. I do bring that up a lot. He’s a great guy and I want him around a while so I do bug him about exercise. “What does this have to do with Christmas… and Santa?” Santa stood up from his chair now and approached my partner and I. My partner lessened the squeeze but still kept me in his arms. As he came closer Santa said, “I know what you’d really like boy. And you’ve been a good boy for a long time and make it through a couple of rough years back there. That’s what put you on my special list for a personal visit.” Now that he was standing, and walking, I was able to put some perspective on Santa. He was shorter than my partner and I, maybe 5’9” or so, but he was thick. He had a red union suit on and it was tight across his belly and chest. His gloves were off and I could see his hands were big. About as big as my bear’s hands. All I could think in my head was, “this is not the time to pop a boner” but thinking didn’t help. I was naked and started getting excited. My partner could feel my dick get hard and said, “I told you Santa, once he figured things out and took a good look at you, he’d start to get excited. Look at him,” my partner was still holding me but turned me a bit so my front was facing Santa. I left a trail of pre-cum on my partner’s shirt and my cock was nearly at full mast now. I was really embarrassed, my cheeks must have been turning pink because Santa chimed in with, “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about boy… in fact, the size of that thing, you should be awfully proud.” At this point my cheeks were bright red. I don’t even know how I had enough blood flow for a full hard on and bright cheeks but clearly it was working that way. My partner and Santa must have talked at length because he chimed in with, “I told you it was nice and thick.” And they both chuckled. He then whispered in my ear, “Don’t be embarrassed, we’re here for your Christmas present.” Santa cleared his throat to get my attention and started talking, “I know you tell your partner you want him to lift weights, to get healthier… but I know what you think about beyond that. You want him to be one of the biggest and strongest men there is, don’t you? World’s Strongest Papa Bear or something like that?” My partner nodded and added, “I thought cuddliest was in there somewhere?” he then looked at me and said, with a wink, “You talk in your sleep sometimes, pup.” “So I’m here to help.” Santa said. “What do you like about your big bear, boy?” This took no time, I know that big bear like the back (well, and front) of my hand. “His big hands… his thick furry chest… his belly, his forearms…” I started to stutter a bit and my big bear chime in with, “What about my legs and rear end, pup?” The only thing I could think of was, “I like it all… every bit of it.” Santa popped in with, “What if there was more of that big bear to like, boy? When you ask him to lift weights, what do you want to get bigger?” It’s not often you gets asked what your deepest desires are and, at best, I can be pretty shy. I didn’t know how to respond. I’m pretty sure they both expected this type of non-response from me because my partner was ready to prime the pump, “What about my chest pup, what it was bigger and thicker? You love nuzzling your head in my chest, imagine if it was bigger just for you.” My cock was answer for me. “He’s dripping like a damn fireman’s hose, you big bear, I think he likes that.” Santa said. He added, “Go rub his chest boy, you want it to get bigger, start rubbing that big furry chest. And I hope you like it, because I have a feeling your big papa bear is going to need rubdowns in the future.” I stepped back from my big bear for a moment. He’s always been bigger than me, we’re about the same height but he had about 70 pounds on me. I wished his belly was smaller, well, I didn’t, I liked his belly, but I wanted him to be healthy. He pulled his shirt off as I turned toward him and started rubbing his chest. A little softly at first. Which made him moan and lean into my ear with “this is not the time to be delicate pup… rub my chest and maul it. Show me how nice and firm that grip is, use that same grip as when you get excited.” So I started squeezing his chest. Really grabbing it, the fur, his nipples, trying to reach my hand all around his pecs and just grabbing. While I was doing this he took a deep breath in and puffed his chest out. He started to moan a bit, saying how good it felt, how I shouldn’t stop. So I didn’t. I kept rubbing that big chest. All the while he was taking full deep breaths, filling his belly and chest each time. What I didn’t notice, well, not at first, is that his chest wasn’t going back down after each breathe. It was staying that size and getting bigger. Once I started to notice I took a step back and took my hands off his chest to take a look. That was a mistake. Within seconds his big paws were wrapped over my hands and he slammed them back on his chest with a deep, guttural “You’re not stopping yet pup. Keep working.” I noticed it was getting tougher and tougher to squeeze his pecs as he got bigger. My hands were starting to get sore but I knew better than to stop. Santa was behind me and suggested I use both hands on a single pec at a time. I was amazed at how big my papa bear’s chest was. I put my left and right hands on his right pec and couldn’t cover the whole thing. But it just encouraged me to maul with all my might to keep him moaning. After a few minutes Santa gently suggested, “Switch to the other one, boy, keep things even.” My forearms were on fire, I wanted to crack my knuckles but I wasn’t going to stop. Each squeeze made my big bear moan, every dozen squeezes or so it looked like he was taking a deep breathe. His belly filled up with air and his chest pushed further out: out to the front, to the sides, his nipples were starting to push down a bit as his pecs got huge. All the while his fur kept up with the size of his big pecs. It was about now that I wanted to see just how deep the crevice was between his massive pecs. I took my hands off his left pec and put them together, kind of like a butterfly and started to push my thumbs between his pecs. This really turned that big bear on. He moaned like he was cumming and threw his forearms over my shoulders. His thick, furry forearms. I was paying so much attention to his chest I forgot how much I loved his forearms. While I buried my thumbs between his pecs my lips were close enough to lick at his forearms. When my tongue touched him it felt electric, at the same time he locked his hands behind my neck. When I looked back at my hands my thumbs were completely hidden in the crevice between his huge furry pecs. I tried to pull them back but I was met with pecs like steel and a grunt from my big bear, “Not yet pup, you want the biggest and strongest, that’s what you’re getting.” All that ran through my head was “Holy fuck” over and over again. Here was my big papa bear, getting bigger. Putting muscle on top of muscle and all I had seen so far were his big pecs and furry forearms. I did my best to keep squeezing his chest even though I felt like I couldn’t move my thumbs at all, but based on the noises he was making and his big belly and growing chest I must have been doing something. But I wasn’t doing enough, so I started licking his right forearm, then his left. Moving as much as I could, which wasn’t much considering he had me locked in position in front of him. I also had less and less room as his forearms got bigger. He took a moment from the revelry of his huge chest to look up and say, “Look me in the eye pup, is this what you want?” I whimpered, “Yes.” The knew that wasn’t enough and followed with a loud and resounding, “Oh yeah, papa bear. Yes!” All I saw was my big bear looking at me over his massive chest. His beard sitting on his pecs like a wild mountain man and his arms locked tight around me. I wasn’t ready to wake up from this dream. He kept his eyes on mind and asked, “Who has the biggest forearms, pup? Mine need to be bigger, a lot bigger.” I really didn’t know this one. I love guys with big forearms but usually measurements are for the upper arm and the forearm is kind of ignored. I thought of Denis Cyplenkov. I didn’t know how big his forearms were, I just knew his hands and forearms were huge. I just blurted out, “21 inches.” My big bear shook his head from side to side with a big of disappointment in his face. He let his chest relax a bit and I was able to pull my hands out. Damn his pecs were beyond huge. He looked at me and said, “That’s too small, pup. Start rubbing my forearms and hands. I’ve been paying attention, I think I know what you need and I’ll let you know when I think they’re big enough.” Holy shit was my papa bear getting into this. I heard Santa sigh behind me. Not a sleepy sigh, but a turned on groan for a sigh. I think he was trying to keep it in but with my big bear getting bigger and getting into it, it was probably getting tough. My dick was leaking on my papa bear’s belly. For a moment he moved his arms from the sides of his head, rubbed his paws and forearms on his belly, then grabbed my dick to squeeze more precum on his furry forearms and nodded saying, “That should help you out a bit, pup, keep rubbing.” I love my big papa bear’s forearms. After we fool around I’d spend a good twenty minutes rubbing his hands and forearms after he mauled my chest and ass so this was heaven. I just have to get past how sore my hands were getting. Trust me, it was easy to do. I had a mission. I couldn’t wrap both of my hands around his left forearm, but I tried. I’ve got pretty big hands so I was guessing his forearms were more than 17 inches around. Well, a lot more since my hands couldn’t touch and had several inches between them. But I squeezed, and rubbed, moving from his thick wrist up to his elbow. Massaging his forearm, feeling it grow. I started to put together that he wasn’t pulling air into his chest as it grew, he was definitely filling up that belly with air but his chest was just growing all that time. Just like his forearms were growing now. Then I looked up, where his elbow and forearm gave way to his upper arm. My eyes started to cross. I’m not a bicep man, but damnit his were big. And a thick trail of hair followed his forearms through to his shoulders. As I rubbed the growing muscles in his forearm his biceps and triceps would tense. And grow. As did his shoulders. And I tried to peak around to get an idea of how thick his back was. His body was tensing and releasing and each time it grew bigger. Santa told me to switch forearms again, “Keep ‘em even boy.” My eyes were on my big bear but I take it Santa was enjoying the show. When I moved to the other forearm my papa bear picked up his other arm. He didn’t flex, he didn’t have to. It was huge. From his shoulder, through his upper arms, his forearms and his massive paws. But the best treat was he exposed his arm pit. It was wet with sweat and dripping. Then the scent hit me. Holy fuck, it smelled like my big bear, I’d know his scent anywhere… but dammit if it wasn’t 100x stronger than normal. When the scent hit me I was pushing into his forearms muscles with my thumbs while my hands tried to wrap around the rest. I had to throw my head into his massive belly to stop myself from cumming. He knew what was happening, he’s seen it before where I get so turned on I just start to cum. The massive hand that was up in the air came down and wrapped around the base of my cock and squeezed. NIce and tight. With his head bowed down he said, “Not now, pup. Hold it back.” He knew I’d do what he said. Or at least as best as I could. But still he kept his hand wrapped around my cock for a minute so I could get my bearings. I was a whimpering mess, but I knew to not stop rubbing that forearm. Eventually he lifted his head back up and let go. While he did he must have caught a look at Santa because he said, “Saint Nick, lose the union suit. Let’s see everything you’ve got.” I could tell Santa was undressing. He was doing his best to hold back I guess but it was too much. After a minute he must have been done because my big papa bear nodded his head and said, “Very nice. My pup’s going to love it when he turns around.” I finally had my bearings again. I never stopped rubbing his thick forearm but I was able to stand up again and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to spontaneously cum. But I made the mistake of looking up at my bear. Holy shit. His chest was massive, thick and covered with hair. His shoulders looked like they were capped with basketballs. His upper arms were thick and lead to a massive set of forearms and huge hands. “Like your Christmas present so far, pup?” And I shot a load. A huge fucking load. He chuckled a bit and said, “you know we’re not done. What about my legs pup? You need a papa bear with big thick legs, don’t you?”

Cockring 11 Soccer Kid Brian logged into his email accounts one after another and read the items in his inbox. Next he skimmed the junk mail to be sure nothing important had been marked as junk or spam. He marked and deleted page after page of junk items and marked a couple as safe. One item stood out among the others was from a gay hookup site that he belonged to and really liked. However it was getting expensive so he had just cancelled his membership. The email indicated that an anonymous friend had given him a gift subscription to the site. This would be great if it was legit. Brian followed the link hoping the offer wasn't just a ploy to get him to continue his membership as a paying subscriber. The friend had provided some additional personal details about Brian, enough that assured him this friend did indeed know Brian. He also mentioned that this can be used to extend Brian's current membership, another clue. The friend knew Brian was already a member of this site, but obviously didn't know about Brian's cancellation yet. Just as Brian had no clue the 'friend' was none other than Chad. Once on the site Brian navigated to the account section and entered the provided code. He was glad to see it was accepted and shocked that his membership was extended for not one, but ten years! Plus he had been upgraded into the STUD group. Wow, he thought, what a gift! He was prompted to verify the personal profile data which was very detailed and accurate. It now included a lot more mandatory fields than the regular membership. A whole page of very specific body measurements and a greatly expanded sexual preferences section. "Guess I'd better get this filled out so I can start enjoying the benefits of a higher profile group." He had been so busy at his job and spending time working out in the gym that he hadn't measured himself to check for progress in weeks. He carefully measured each body part following the specific diagrams to fill in the form one by one. Calves 16 1/2, Thigh 25 3/4, Bicep 17 1/2, Neck 18, Waist 31 1/2, Chest 48 3/4 "Wow!" Cock. He started stroking then quickly realize a twist of the cockring would do the job faster. Cock, Girth 6 1/4, Length almost 10 1/2 inches! "Oh Fuck, Maybe this cockring isn't quite so bad after all." There was an enhanced picture section where he could upload unlimited pictures and even videos. "Dam, this will be great" He kept his currently designated picture that would show on the profile page. As usual, the others could be designated as open to all for viewing, marked as private and only viewable if unlocked for a specific profile, or hidden and included as attachments to chat or emails. Brian really liked the enhanced functionality of the STUD group membership and wondered why he'd never seen any mentioned of this upgrade before. He constantly used this site to make most of his connections for the past several years, so he was really pleased and didn't really mind providing the additional data since it led him to believe that he had total control over who could see what in his profile. What he didn't realize was that the additional personal data and all of his pictures would be totally available to special members of STUDS. Clients of the service once the market location was put into production. This was how the special members made their connections with Chad's alpha studs, through the legitimate, seemingly normal guise of the gay web site. Only the special members and Chad really knew what was going on behind the scenes. All communications were filtered by the system to prevent accidental disclosure of the group. He picked up with the site right where he had left off. Chatting with various hot men on the site on a routine basis. Together they worked out the details of the activities they desired through a series of chat messages and email. Once they were comfortable they could arrange to meet and enjoy the sexual satisfaction together. He had several regular guys and a list of others waiting for his next opportunity to break free. He also enjoyed some of the chat groups where members could discuss various topics. It was fun to get others opinions on topics like jacking off, gay travel, safe sex, S&M, sex toys, leather, etc, etc.. Cockrings were always an interest to Brian and even more so now that he was forced to be a prisoner of a permanent cockring. He really enjoyed reading the posted threads of questions and answers from others in this forum. He read hundreds of threads from guys who indicated they were greatly aroused by wearing a heavy thick metal cock ring as opposed to other types. Brian could easily relate to that, having experienced it himself. The heavier metal ones always seemed to provide him a huge erection and even more arousal. You could say he was addicted to them even before he found himself locked into the one Chad provided. To be honest, he had to admit, it sure was providing some intriguing side effects and constant arousal. He wondered if any of the men online had also received one of Chad's cockrings, but was comfortable as to how to discuss his situation online as yet. However, he ventured a more generic question to post on the cock ring forum and hoped something would turn up. 'Has anyone been given a cock ring as a present that you just couldn't get yourself to remove it once you wore it the first time?' Meanwhile he would just have to continue searching the site for other hot men in Minneapolis metro area. He was happy to find out that more and more of his current friends were becoming members on the site too. Chatting with them was fun and a quick means to communicate and make arrangements. A couple said they didn't like most pay sites but thought the benefit of membership verses free member was well worth the cost. He mentioned his current membership was extended as a gift by someone, so he was going to make the most of it. Just like him, they'd never heard of this special kind of membership and were really wishing they could get in on the deal. It seemed very odd that nobody he contacted knew anything about the extra benefits available to STUDS. Likewise he never found any means to contact other STUDS members. Chad finally decides its time to try contacting the cute steward from his flight home. After several rings a live voice answers. "Hello" "Hey, this is Chad from the Seattle flight awhile back." "Oh, yeah. Wasn't sure I'd ever hear from you after your bad flight." "Bad flight? Chad questioned. "All I remember is being glad to get home. I'd been on the road for months." Surprised you could forget about the turbulence. The flight was one hell of a rough ride due to that bad electrical storm" "Dam, now I remember, that was really a nasty one." Chad added. "Over loaded one of our systems as it discharged through the planes body." Chad's mind was suddenly clicking. Storm. Discharge.. Overload. "Hey I'd love to get together over dinner at say eight. You pick the place. [pause while he listened] I'll be there." Chad couldn't get off the phone fast enough. He had to research some weather data fast! "Will do, I can hardly wait." Chad hung up the phone and logged onto his computer. Searching for weather reports and data for Brians location. He wanted to cross reference the data with growth events. "Why didn't I think about this before?" Brian was finishing up his final set of reverse curls when he felt the firm grip of a pair of hands on his broad shoulders. "You taking steroids now?", the hands followed down his pumped biceps and then around to his lats. The distraction caused more than just a bit of rise between Brian's legs. The man continued as his hands roamed down the deeply muscled back, "Looks like you've gained a lot of solid muscle since last month. But I still want an answer to my last question." Brian lowered the cables, let them fall to the floor and turned quickly finding himself face to face with Craig. "What question was that?" He asked as he felt one of the hands from his back, purposefully brush over his partial erection. Craig briefly cupped the cock in his hand as he felt for the cockring, "I had complimented on how 'it' added to your masculinity. And then asked if it feels hot during sex too?" Brian looked Craig straight in the eye knowing that 'it' referred to the cockring and with a wink he replied, "It sure does." Then as an invitation added, "But you'd have to be there." "I just might." Craig replied as he looked down. Noticing the obvious bulge in Brian's gym shorts he started to walk away as he said. "Best I let you concentrate on finishing your workout before you need to pump out a few extra reps somewhere else!" He added as he started jogging laps on the track. Brian hoped that Craig meant soon, but knew he needed to get a cold shower fast or he might get thrown out of the gym. "Catch me some time soon." He shouted to Craig as he passed by, finishing his first lap. Brian bounded down the stairs toward the locker room. The row of his locker empty so he undressed quickly and put his clothes in the locker. Grabbing his towel and using it to shield his partial erection as he made his way to the showers. He got the water adjusted, closed his eyes and stepped into the powerful chilly spray. The water quickly soaked his hair and ran down his face. The intensity of jets felt good all over his body. He was thinking how much fun it might be to meet up with Craig now that he knew there was some real interest. Suddenly his thoughts were pulled back to reality as he felt a firm hand grab his still turgid cock and begin stroking it. "Hey Muscles, are you going to let me have some of this again?" Tim questioned. Brian didn't have a chance to answer before his cock was swallowed by Tim's hungry mouth. It rapidly grew even harder as Tim applied his talented mouth to the task. "I want you to fuck me some time!" Tim said softly as he pulled the monster out of his mouth and stood up to face Brian. He reached out, placing a hand on each of Brian's large pecs, before firmly pinching both the large nips at the same time. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Here?" Brian always fantasized about fucking some hot guy in the gym showers. The opportunity just never presented itself until now. His mind raced quickly as he weighed the potential of having his fantasy, versus being caught. There weren't too many in the locker room as most had already finished up and left for work. The few others were putting on their street clothes and would be gone soon. So they wouldn't likely be interrupted any time soon. "Here and now!" Tim replied as he lathered up his firm ass. The thick fur quickly suds up like shampoo lather. Then turning and thrusting it toward Brian's monstrous cock as he placed his hands against the wall. "You know satyrs are always ready for sex. Just tak ..." The rest of his sentence, where he was going to tell Brian to 'take it slow', was lost. "Fuck!" Brian quickly reached around with one hand and covered Tim's mouth as a precaution, as he continued to slowly plunge deeper into the depths of Tim's fur lined buns. He couldn't resist running his free hand over the kids thick, furry thighs. The satyr image vivid in his mind. Only the horns were missing to make it more a reality. "mmmmmmppppppffff", was all that escaped from Tim's lips, as Brian worked his cock deeper and deeper into the tight, warm, moist confines of an accommodating ass. Brian couldn't believe that 'Coach had broken in Tim and used him frequently'. "Coach must have really liked your performance in the game" Brian taunted. He was over half way in when he realized that Tim was way too tight to have been ready for this. "So dam nice." He so wanted to express himself and his erotic desires. It was awkward trying to talk with guarded words so no one in the locker room would be suspicious. "nnnnnnooooooo" Tim struggled against Brian's invading monster. He finally pulled away from Brian enough to regain some composure. Then pulled Brian's hand off his covered mouth. "Coach never showed me a power play like this one. In fact I've never even seen anyone with one your size before, let alone ever imagined I'd be able to go for the play and take it to score." "Dam, sorry, I misunderstood." Brian reluctantly began to withdraw. "No, go on; show me the rest of the play." Pushing back quickly against Brian's throbbing cock. "I want you to show me the full attack plan, step by step, until I get it all down." "You want the full attack plan, all the way down?" Finally picking up on the soccer terms, Brian continued. "Once in the ready, you position for a direct attack." Tim's ass was still clamped down on Brian's cock. The look in Tim's eyes begged for Brian to continue. "But instead you look for the back door or weaker side to exploit the danger zone." He slowly pushed deeper into Tim, feeling that warm virgin ass slowly open up to accommodate his cock. "Oh, yeah. I think I'm getting it now. You channel the play and defend deep." Tim rolled his eyes and smiled as best as he could. He'd never felt anything like this before. His insides burned as the girth of the thick monster stretched him beyond anything he'd experienced. Even the dildo he used at home didn't do the things Brian’s cock was doing. His breath was quickening as his own cock surged to full erection. "The play gets a bit harder, the longer it takes to complete. You have to keep the pressure on and be ready to tackle if need be." "I think I see what you mean." Tim said as Brian's cock bore even deeper up inside of him. The combination of the long stokes and the thick ridge of Brian's cockhead, vigorously worked Tim's prostrate. He was on the verge of loosing his load and yet wanted all of Brian totally inside of him first. He pushed back against Brian's thrusts. "Show me how it ends up then. I think I have most of it down." "I think you know all the usual tactics." Brian pushed forward into Tim so that the last inch of his massive cock is buried to the hilt. He withdrew quickly and pummeled back in again and again. "Depth is important; you want to keep the distance if possible. As you can see this play works even better if you're willing to push it forward and risk some serious foul play." "I...I...I see what you mean, Send it through!" Tim's load blasts forth as his ass clenches hard on Brian forcing his load to flood deep into Tim. No sooner had the two finished when they heard someone shout, "Man On". Standing in the doorway was Craig. They didn't know how long he'd been there, but his warning meant that someone was approaching from behind. They quickly turned toward the shower sprays, and soaped up hoping not to look to obvious. Craig took the remaining shower near the two of them to help provide some additional cover. Tim left first followed shortly after by Brian and finally Craig. "Next time I won't let you finish your workout alone." Craig said teasing. "I hope not." Brian replied. "How long were you standing there watching?' "Long enough. I'd have joined in but I doubt I'd have been able to complete the play as well as Tim did. He reach down and grabbed a solid handful of Brian's cock. "Fuck, thats huge, I want it but I need to get home." Craig replied and they both walked back to their lockers. "Forecast for nasty storms tonight. I got to get things put away at home before they hit." "Hey Coach" Tim said in a surprised tone. Brian turned quickly wondering if Tim was referring to him. An older slightly overweight man with a whistle hanging around his neck was standing near Tim. "Used the GPS in the phone I gave you to track you down. I need you for a publicity stint ASAP." Coach said. "I sent you an urgent text message with the details." "Great", said Tim, "I'll finish up and meet you there." "Best you hurry, the weather is looking bad and its an outside photo shooot. With the nasty weather warnings we'll have to be quick." The coach walked off as Tim turned to Brian. "Hate this phone; I can't even ignore his calls as he can track me down." "That sucks." Brian commented as Tim's phone rang. "What? Who... oh, just a minute. Brian? I think it's for you." Tim said with a puzzled look on his face as he handed the phone to Brian. "Hello?" Brian's face showed disbelief and then anger built up as he listened to the man. He tried to interrupt several times, but it was obvious the person on the other end, Chad, wasn't going to let him. The line disconnected and Brian checked the call log. It showed the number as unlisted, so he handed the phone back to Tim. "Thanks, guess you're not the only one being tracked down." "Yeah, but through my phone?" Tim said even more puzzled than before. "Sorry about that. See ya, Tim." Brian left quickly and drove home as he thought about the call. It made him furious that Chad was now calling him with a warning about the cockring. His mind raced with thoughts. Not an apology, not an explanation, but a warning? Of all things, he wanted to warn me that the cockring may be malfunctioning. How? I'm not suppose to get raging hard-ons or experience body growth or both? Why the sudden concern about the weather report. I've been through storms many times in the past and will likely be many more in the future. All I know is there would be no warning needed if I wasn't stuck wearing the cockring." Brian really wanted the chance to give Chad a piece of his mind, but he still had no means to track him down. Once home he logged into the site to check his mail. He'd been expecting to connect with a hot new guy and hoped the invite was there. The site flashed an indicator that he had a new message from a guy called OverLoad. As he opened the email his mind flashed back to the call he got on Tim's phone. He still wondered about Chad's warning that the cockring was getting an overload and potentially causing a malfunction. How the hell did he track Brian down and even contact him on Tim's phone? "Fuck", he said out loud to himself, "maybe the growth wasn't suppose to be permanent" He realized maybe the malfunction was an overload and that was why he maintained the growth some of the time. Chad must be thinking that storms could cause the overload malfunction. His mind wandered as he chatted with OverLoad. So whats behind your ID? Just a label For what? You come on too strong? Naw, I just cum on too much.. lol "oh, boy", Brian thought, "another big shooter" Guess that makes sense. The chat went on for some time while Brian started checking his journal of past encounters. He added in notes about how many times the cockring kicked in. What the results were and if his body reverted back or not. He also started tracking where the event took place so he could rule out anything else that might cause the overload. He really hoped that the weather reports would confirm the cause. If so, it likely would only be severe weather that caused it. He was now too distracted to make any arrangements with Overload and the guy he was expecting to connect with never replied. Best he get some rest so he signed off the system and went to bed. Link to Cockring 11 - Soccer Kid Sorry. I wanted to expand the shower scene with the soccer kid, but haven't found time and feel best to get this posted. Enjoy..

The Roommate's Gift It all began in John’s first year of university. It was an unassuming request; ‘one roommate required for a year lease downtown. John had instantly fell in love with the apartment, but he knew he couldn’t pay his bills without splitting the cost. Kareem had answered the ad almost as soon as it went up on the internet. John thought he was an ordinary guy. Also a first year, and wholly in love with the apartment as well. He had a short beard, olive tanned complexion and piercing green eyes. At first glance, John was not incorrect in assuming that he was from somewhere in the middle east, Kareem’s slight accent only confirmed his assumption. It soon became clear that Kareem was a perfect fit for a roommate. He was clean, organized and didn’t seem like he would have any problems paying for the second half of the rent. John helped him move into the apartment and began preparing for the start of the school year. Shortly after Kareem had moved in, John was woken up one early morning by the clash of pans from the kitchen. He cracked his door open and peaked through. What he saw took his breath away. He knew that Kareem had some hidden bulk under the baggy clothes that he usually wore, but nothing could prepare him for the sight of the muscular man shirtless in his kitchen. Kareem was huge. His body resembled that of a competition bodybuilder, only perhaps a little less leaner and definitely hairier. John retreated back into his room unnoticed. He regarded his own body with distaste. He was pale and skinny, with just enough fat to cover up his abs completely. He had basically no body hair to speak of, which suited him just fine. The only part of his body that he had any pride for was his legs. Good genetics and a lifetime of bike riding had given him swollen calves and cut quads. He went back to bed, dreaming of what it might feel like to have a buff masculine body like his roommate’s. School began and John found himself thrust into the daily grind of life. School and a retail part-time job kept him busy enough so that he barely saw Kareem. This didn’t stop the two from becoming closer and closer, and before either of them realized it, they were best mates. It was one dusky evening when John’s life began to change. Kareem was probably a better cook than John could ever hope to be. He was initially uncertain about the dishes that Kareem put in front of him, but he had yet to have a bad bite, so he never refused anything. Both of them were exhausted from a full day of classes, but John was especially exhausted after getting rejected, once again, by a girl he had been seeing for a couple weeks. Settling down to the steaming food in front of them, John blurted out his desire to have a body like Kareems. “That would get the girls’ attention,” he said dejectedly into his plate. Kareem looked up quickly and regarded John with those piercing eyes of his. “You should come to the gym with me tomorrow,” he said matter of factly. His pecs instinctively twitched under his tank top as he said it. “Yeah maybe. But I’ve tried the gym before, and it just doesn’t seem to work for me! The only things I can ever get to grow are these damned legs.” He looked down at his lower extremities with bewilderment and frustration. “You probably weren’t eating enough,” Kareem said dryly to him. “I think I know how to help.” The slightest smile appeared on his face. He pushed his bulk out his chair and strode over to the kitchen cupboards. John watched him rifle through the numerous spices and herbs that he kept in the cupboards, before he produced a small glass container. “Salt,” he said. “From my hometown, it will help kick up that food a bit.” John didn’t think the food in front of him needed more salt, in fact it was plenty salty already. But he only watched as Kareem knocked some of the salt into his hand. The grains were ruby red and almost seemed to play with the light in the room. John had never seen salt like that before, but he’d also never seen most of the things in Kareem’s spice cupboard, and he tended not to ask. Kareem sprinkled it over John’s food before plunking back into his own chair and tucking into the food. John watched suspiciously as the red crystals dissolved. He shrugged and began to eat. The next morning, John was quite literally woken up by his stomach. Its desperate cries moved him quickly out of bed and into the kitchen. He was not surprised to see Kareem frying up breakfast for the two of them. “Good morning,” he said sleepily before sauntering into the bathroom. “Morning,” Kareem announced, not turning away from the sizzling frying pan. He smiled to himself as he heard the click of the bathroom door closing. John looked in the mirror. “Huh,” he said flatly. His lanky body didn’t look as lanky anymore. In fact, he thought he looked pretty good! He had the first signs of some muscular definition in his chest and arms. The bulge of his legs seemed to push his boxers slightly wider than he had ever noticed before. Oddest of all, he seemed to have a slightly shadowed patch in the middle of his chest, closer inspection revealed budding hair that he had never noticed before. He rubbed the stubble on his face, that also seemed darker and denser than he had ever noticed before. It looked like he only had to wait a couple of weeks before he would be sporting a full dense beard. John wasn’t stupid, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out what had happened. An image of the glass container with the red salt sprung into his mind. He reached into the depths of his mind, trying to remember some factoid of biology that would explain what the salt had done to his body. Nothing came to mind. “Was it dangerous?” John wondered to himself. He realized he didn’t really care, he just needed more of it. Kareem was sitting at the table with two steaming plates as John left the bathroom. He stopped himself from smiling, the transformation had already begun. John had reacted quickly to the crystals, better than Kareem ever had, he was glad that he had only given him a little bit. “Breakfast is ready,” he said cooly. “I’m sorry I started without you, but I need to get going, anatomy class at 8:30, remember?” “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for breakfast!” John watched Kareem curiously as the big man shoveled the last bit of food into his mouth and grabbed his bag. They exchanged goodbyes and all at once, John was alone in the apartment. He wasted no time in seizing his opportunity. He opened Kareem’s cupboard, expecting to find the usual mess. Instead he found exactly what he was looking for. The red salt was there, right in front of him, almost like it had been placed there on purpose. He didn’t give it much thought, only grabbing it and emptying a generous amount into his food. Just like before, it absorbed into his food. Only this time, there was so much that it left a reddish hue. He hesitated for a second, unsure of what he was doing. “It’s only salt,” he laughed to the empty room before shovelling the red food into his mouth. He admitted, the taste wasn’t fantastic. The salt was indeed salty. But he ate it all. Afterwards he only sat there, waiting. But nothing happened. Maybe he was mistaken? Maybe he just hadn’t looked at himself in a while and it was just Kareem’s calorie dense food that had caused him to grow. That wouldn’t exactly explain the hair, but it made more sense than muscle growing salt. John pulled on a shirt and pants, ignoring the feeling of tugging fabric. He would have to take the bus, there was no way he was making it to campus in time by walking. As he flashed his student ID to the bus driver he suddenly felt his skin flush and his head go light. He quickly chose a seat in the back, happy that there was barely anyone else in the bus. His whole body seemed to go numb and cold, he realized he was sweating. John could feel every heartbeat along almost every inch of his body, as if his heart was pumping overtime. And then he felt it. An unmistakable feeling of heaviness enveloped him and he began to grow. He looked at his forearm with a mix of disgust and ecstasy as he watched it fill with hot, hard muscle. Thick veins pushed against the skin under his arm, and as his muscles grew they appeared on the backs of them as well. He watched with bated pleasure as his forearms pumped themselves larger and larger, and thick hair began to mat on their tops. John gasped as he felt his sleeves fill up from his swelling biceps and triceps. A tiny groan escaped his lips, which only drew the gaze of a few bus passengers who looked away before they noticed what was happening. He felt the fabric stretch and stretch until the material was skin tight over a pair of massive bodybuilder arms. A vein ran down each arm, even visible when they ascended into the sleeves of his shirt. Unbeknownst to John, a deep crevice was forming between his ballooning pecs. It was visible above the collar of his stretching V-neck shirt. He reached with a veiny muscle hand to grope a growing pec. The muscle was hard and warm under the thin fabric, he could feel it slowly expanding under his touch. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware that his chest had grown into a thick shelf of muscle. He rubbed under the shirt, not surprised to feel a modest amount of soft hair covering the hard muscle. As his back widened and his shirt tightened, an obvious eight pack was suddenly visible on his torso, pushing the material into eight neat mounds under his heaving pecs. He flexed an arm, delighting in the ball of muscle that formed and the explosion of vascularity that suddenly stood in stark relief against the smoothness of his skin. His attention was suddenly diverted to his lower half, as he felt an overwhelming tightness. His legs were huge! The bulky, hairy mounds of muscle were spilling over his seat. Luckily he had worn stretchy running shorts, and the bulk had only made them ride up, revealing his now god-like lower limbs. He felt ripping and knew that his boxers had given way to his growth, giving him relief from the tightness and allowing his muscles to grow into the soft fabric of his shorts. A couple veins ran down his massive calves, making them look even more cut and athletic. He again praised himself for wearing flip-flops, as even his feet had grown. They were long and thick, corded with athletic looking muscle and veins. He kicked off the useless flip-slops absentmindedly. And just as soon as it started, it stopped. John’s shirt clung tightly, but securely to the muscle man’s torso. His hairy, meaty pecs were overwhelmingly visible above the deep V collar. His previously baggy running shorts were filled with hard hairy muscle, making them resemble compression shorts. He brought a meaty hand to his chin, only to realize that a short dark beard had grown. The transformation was complete. John had a body to rival his roommate’s and he knew it. The bus trundled to his stop, just beside the main quad of his university campus. The sun was out and hundreds of students were milling around the grounds. John noticed that many of the guys were shirtless. He wasted no time in pulling his off, finally ripping it a little bit in the process. He was the biggest man on campus now, he knew it, and he loved it. Thanks to Kareem’s gift, university was about to get a whole lot better. This one's pretty PG.. Let me know what you think!

I woke up and sat up on the mattress in my spare bedroom, where I'd been relegated to sleep by my big muscleheaded younger cousin Eddie. It was just getting light outside, and I had to be at work early, so I got up and took a quick shower. After I was done, I realized that all my clothes were in my old room. I went down the hallway and went into the room. Eddie had left the windows open, so it was light enough to see him sprawled out on my bed. He was laying on his back, and only half covered by the bed sheet. He was breathing in and out deeply, and I could see his huge chest swelling up and down. One of his legs stuck out of the sheets and hung down over the edge of the bed like a fallen tree trunk. Only this tree trunk had thick veins that I could see even thru the dim light of dawn. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out some socks and underwear. As I put them on, I noticed a big pup tent in the middle of the sheet, where it covered Eddie's morning wood hardon. It stuck straight up like a flag pole, and looked the size of one of those souvenir baseball bats they give out at stadiums on bat day. Figures the big ox would be hung like that. The whole room even smelled like him...scent of big dumb jock mixing with the fresh air from outside. It was making me whoosy. I went over to my closet and pulled out pants and shirt. As I put on a belt, I watched Eddie in my bed. The light had grown brighter and I could see just how massive he was. He practically filled the whole double bed with his big frame. I wanted more than anything to go pull the sheet off him. But I had to get to work. Had to get to work. I picked up a pair of shoes, and carried them out of the bedroom with me. As I stepped into the hallway, I heard Eddie grunt and stir a bit. I looked back and saw his hand go under the sheet and start to stroke himself. "Aw yeh, so huge, so huge," he mumbled to himself in his sleep. I tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. I could barely think straight. I almost forgot to put water in the coffee maker before I turned it on. I could hear my bedsprings creaking upstairs as Eddie pounded himself harder. I could hear him groaning and grunting. I hoped the coffee maker would drown out the sounds but it didn't. I dug around for something to eat, and because of Eddie's purge of my kitchen last night, I could only find a stale FiberOne bar. I choked it down as I listened to him growl out "fuckk yeahhh, oh fuckk yeahhh." I was surprised my bed didn't collapse under his bucking superheavy weight frame. He must have been awake by now, because he just kept going on and on. It sounded like a porn movie was being filmed up there. The thought of Eddie pounding a porn star into oblivion with his 350-some pounds of muscle was making me crazy. Then I noticed my old shirt laying on the floor. The shirt that Eddie had flexed out of last night, shredding it into ribbons, as if the silk fabric was made of paper toweling. I picked it up and smelled it. It reeked of his musk. I felt like a perve, getting off on breathing in my cousin's scent, but it was so good. I had to lean against the kitchen counter to keep my balance. Then I saw the cookie sheet that he had dented out with his muscleball gut. I put my hand on the rounded metal and felt the hardness of it, all lumpy like a kettle drum. I rubbed it and thought of Eddie's hard stomach. From upstairs, his grunting had become deeper and more rhythmic, like a rutting ox. I could hear the headboard pounding into the wall. I leaned against the counter's edge and realized that I was rock hard in my dress pants. I went into the half bathroom off the kitchen, whipped out my dick and starting jerking off. As I heard Eddie growling in ecstasy, I pushed my dick down and shot into the toilet. Cum went all over the seat and the back of the toilet. I wiped off the seat with my ripped up shirt that I was still holding, then I tossed it into the wastebasket. I composed myself a little bit, then shoved my dick back in my pants and washed my hands. As I came out of the bathroom, I heard Eddie coming down the steps. He reached the bottom, and we saw each other. All he had on was a pair of faded briefs with a Superman logo on the front, his dick still swollen and stuffed inside like a club. He was so massive. And while he still had a rounded roidgut, it had definitely flattened out some since last nights gorging of food. His huge shoulders almost touched both sides of the hallway. "Morning, Cuz," he said, rubbing his big hand all over his huge chest. His pecs glistened with his own jiz. He moved his hand down and spread some on his gut ridges. His bed head hair was tossled in every direction. "Had a huge wet dream, man," he said, yawning. " I made a mess of the sheets upstairs. You're gonna have to change them. And I hit the wall behind your bed pretty good too. You're gonna want to wipe that down." "Eddie," I said, "I have to go to work. I'm late as it is." "Yeh, and I can see why," he said, nodding at the small wet spot on my pants from my still-leaking cock. "Shit..." Eddie laughed. "Hey, you got any money for food. I'm starving." I pulled out my wallet and handed him a 20 dollar bill. He looked at it, then looked back at me like I was a complete dipshit. "Dude, that's not gonna cut it for what I'm gonna eat today." "Geezus, Eddie," I said, but I pulled a credit card out of my wallet and handed it to him. Part of me resented paying for his food. The other part of me wanted to see him grow even bigger. "Yeah, that's more like it," he said, sticking the card in his waistband, right above the "S" in his briefs. "Sure you don't want to stick around and watch me stuff this muscle again?" Then he bounced his pecs at me. It was an unbelievable sight. His big chest thickened and rolled, up and down. He had complete muscle control over the huge mounds. His chest must have measured 62" cold. "I have to go," I said, heading towards the kitchen. Eddie put his big arm across the doorway, blocking my way. "Make my bed first," he said. "I'll make it when I get home tonight," I said. I tried to duck under his arm, but he lowered it. He put his hand on the doorframe and I saw his ropey forearm muscles ripple and heard the wooden frame crackle a little from his grip. "Make it now, Cuz. I might wanna nap later, and I hate crusty sheets." We looked at each other eye to eye. "I'll do it this one time," I said, and, mustering some courage, poked him in the middle of his chest with my index finger, "but only because I'm going to change my pants, too." I poked him again, partially to make a point, but mostly to feel how hard his chest was. And it was hard as Corian countertop. Eddie looked down at my finger, then grabbed hold of it with his hand. He moved my finger over to the nipple of his left pec and rubbed it on the big nub that jutted out like an oversized pencil eraser. It was so firm that my finger barely made it move. "You like that, Cuz?" he asked me. When I didn't answer, he got a big smile on his face. "You know I'm just busting you about making the bed. You take things too serious, Jackie. Besides, what was I gonna do, beat the crap outta you? I only outweigh you by about 150lbs." Then he let go of my finger and flexed his right arm. A massive triceps ballooned underneath his rising upper arm. An arm that must have measured 23". He saw the look on my face and laughed. "You better get to work, little dude, before I change my mind." I squeezed myself between the doorway and my musclebound younger cousin. I went out to my car and got inside. I started the car, and looked in the rearview mirror. My face was wet with sweat, and I realized my shirt was already soaked thru, too. I turned the air on high, and sat there for a second before I pulled out, hoping that once I got to work, I could get my mind off Eddie for a few hours. On the drive downtown, I called my sister. She sounded concerned when she answered her phone, since I almost never called her this early. "Jack?" she asked cautiously. "Sis," I said, "I don't know what I'm going to do about Eddie." "What?" she said. "Why, what happened? He's only been there one day." "Yeh, well, he's already eating me out of house and home," I hedged. "Good lord, Jack. Give the kid some time to find a job. I'm sure it'll be fine." "And he already made me move out of my own bedroom," I added weakly. "He did what? You let him........" "More or less. He sort of broke the bed in my spare room. Speaking of which, how is it that the kid is so goddam huge? No one in our family looks like that, and Uncle Ed was such a little guy." There was silence at the other end of the line, until my sister finally said, "Jack, you do know that Eddie was adopted?" "He was what??" "Adopted. I thought you knew that." "No, I can't say that I did." Then I said, "Where'd they get him from, Chernobyl?" That would explain the mutant genetics for freak muscle. "I'm not sure exactly, but I do remember them going to Russia to get him." OK, so maybe not mutant, but I'd seen some of those massive eastern European bodybuilders. No wonder he was so big. "This doesn't mean you won't let him stay?" asked my sister. "No, no, not at all." Maybe even the opposite. "That is unless he crushes the rest of my furniture." My sister laughed. "Go to work, Jack." she said, and we got off the phone. I got to work alright, but spent most of the day thinking about my finger rubbing across my massive adopted cousin's huge chest and hard nip. And the size of his arms. And the veins in his quads and calves. His sheer size It was all I could do to sign into my computer or take a phone call. At lunchtime, I went to the employee cafeteria. I sat at an empty table where someone had left a copy of the newspaper. I started leafing through it absentmindedly. Toward the end of the paper, I came across an ad for open auditions for anyone interested in becoming a pro wrestler. The Fastest Growing Pro League in the Country, it said, was looking for fresh talent. Anyone could come down and try out, and would even get a chance to meet Vinny the Viking, one of their best wrestlers. The tryouts were that night, at a high school gymnasium that was about two miles from my house. What a perfect job for a massive cocky musclehead like Eddie, especially with his background in wrestling, powerlifting and bodybuilding. And he'd have to travel a lot, so he wouldn't be around my house taunting me with his muscle. I could barely wait to get home to see if he'd want to try out. I tried calling, but he didn't answer, and I didn't have his cell number. I went back to my office after lunch, but by three o'clock, I couldn't take it, so I ducked out and headed home. As I pulled in, I saw Eddie's truck in the driveway. His two back tires were flat. That seemed weird. I went in through the kitchen door, I saw the counters covered with protein powders and mixes, and various other supplement bottles. Then I saw Eddie out the window in the backyard, which was filled with weightlifting equipment. I walked out onto the back deck. He was in his stringer tanktop and cargo shorts, doing deadlifts in the middle of the yard. It looked like the bar had four 100lbs plates on each side. When he was done with his set, he dropped the bar down, and the plates sank about six inches into my grass. "Hey," I yelled from the deck. When he looked up at me, I said, "Where'd all this stuff come from?" There were benches and plates all over the place. There was even a rack of dumbbells that looked like they started at 60lbs. Eddie waddled over to me. "I got it today. Cool, huh?" "How did it get here?" "I put a lot of it in my truck, but ruined my back tires. I had them deliver the rest." "How did you pay for it?" I asked, sensing the answer. "I used that credit card you gave me. You might now wanna use it for awhile, I had to pay extra to get same day delivery. Plus, I had to buy you a new scale. I crushed the one you had. Besides, it only went up to 330." I was feeling lightheaded, so I put my hand on the railing of the deck. I can't say that I was surprised that he didn't ask me to use my card, but it still pissed me off. Plus, it was about 95 degrees outside. On top of that, Eddie was standing in the yard, which was three steps down from the deck, so I was seeing him from a new angle. Was it possible that he was bigger than he was yesterday? Eddie's traps were so huge, I could barely take my eyes off them. I don't think I'd ever seen veiny traps before. Eddie noticed me looking and he rolled his shoulders up. "Some pump I got going, huh Cuz? Been working on it since noon." "Eddie, it's 3 o'clock," I said, staring at him in awe. "Yeah, I love a good 3 hour workout. And, I'm using a new preworkout powder. Shit is kickass. That, and the peptides I injected. Makes me feel like I'm growing every minute." I wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about, but as he walked up onto the deck, I heard the steps creaking under his weight. After three hours of working out in the 95 degree heat, he looked liked he'd just stepped out of the shower. "Check it out," he said, stripping off his stringer. "I been doing deads for the last 45 minutes. I am stoked. I stepped back to take in the size of him. He was huge. He looked like Bane...the one from the Arkham Origins video game, not the little one from the Dark Knight movie. I was dizzier than ever. Then he hit a lat spread, jamming his fists into his waist and pressing in, making it look smaller, even as his back muscles opened up and widened. Now I could see why they were referred to as cobra hoods. His almost looked more like thick umbrellas, spreading out and out. I knew my mouth was hanging open, but I couldn't help it. "Wild, right? And I feel so fucking strong, like I need to crush something. But check out my hamstrings, man. When I do deads, they pop out like ship rope." With that, he unbuttoned his shorts and pulled them down to his ankles, then kicked them off. He had on a pair of bikini briefs. He turned around and bent over, grabbing his ankles with his hands. "Look at those hammies, Cuz." His thick hamstring muscles popped out like they were in high def. His massive glutes were rounding out and striated, and practically swallowed up the backside of his tiny briefs. His big calves bulged out and pressed together in the middle, making them swell out at me even more. "Touch these hamstrings, Jackie, you won't believe how hard they are." The next thing I remember was waking up on a chair on the deck. Eddie was kneeling down in front of me. "You okay, Cuz?" "What happened?" I asked. "You blacked out a little. Went down pretty fast. Scared me a little. Must be the heat. Here, drink this." He handed me a bottle of water. His face was only a few inches from mine. I noticed that his ears were slightly cauliflowered from his years of wrestling. I wondered what it'd be like to gnaw on them, feel the gristle of the damaged cartilage against my teeth. Then I noticed how thick his neck was...wider than his head...from all those years of doing bridges for wrestling practice. I took another drink of water, and said, "Hey, that reminds me." I pulled the ad out of my pocket that I'd ripped out of the paper at work, and handed it to Eddie. "What's this?" he asked. "Read it and tell me what you think." He stood up and towered over me as he read it. He stank from his workout, such a virile, funky stank that it gave me goosebumps, despite the heat. "Dude," he said. "when is this?" "Tonight." "Oh, yeah. That's perfect, man. I been aching to mess some losers up. You're taking me, Cuz. I wanna show you what this muscle can do." The thought of it made both of us start to chub up.

The Box Part One (of Three): Dark Red By: Jman250 Archive Link: http://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23533-p1.html I woke up one Monday morning to find an oak box sitting on my nightstand. “That’s odd,” I told myself, “I don’t remember putting an oak box on my nightstand. In fact, I don’t remember owning an oak box, especially one of dark red.” It was carved with ornate pictures of men marching along its side. I blinked a few times to get the sleep out of my eyes and took a closer look. The men were hot! Or at least they were as hot as wood carved men could be. I moved out of bed and picked it up. Each side had a series of three men, smaller on the left to massively buff on the right. It could have been a procession, but all three men were oddly similar. Weird. “It’s getting late,” I reminded myself. I knew I had to get ready for the gym. I put the box down and stripped for my morning shower. I had a decent body. Five eleven, sandy blond hair, long but not in my face. Green eyes. Dimples when I smiled. I’d say I was damn cute. I started really working out a few months ago. This kid I met really inspired me, really motivated me, and I made a lot of improvements. I didn’t think I’d ever be as buff as him, though. I wasn’t big; in fact I was kind of skinny. My biceps and chest started to show some size, but it’d been a lot of work. I walked out of my room and into the common area bathroom. I started the shower and got in. The warm water felt good running over my body and morning wood. My dick was pretty average, compared to some of the guys at school. “Six inches is bigger than some,” I always told myself. It was small compared to Adam though. Adam is the kid I work out with. I guess I shouldn’t call him a kid -- he’s built and way bigger than me! But he’s younger than my twenty four years of age. I’ve been spending a lot of my free time with him lately, almost to the point of being inseparable. You’d never guess we weren’t the same age. Standing there in the shower, my mind drifted back to the box on my nightstand. I started stroking my hard cock. I’d always had a thing for big guys, huge and hard. Like Adam. Hard expanses of muscle. I started picturing him bigger than ever -- muscles expanding to become huge! I let out a soft groan as I stroked faster and almost shot my load when -- *Bang* *Bang* *Bang* “Fuck Chad, jack off somewhere else. I need to shower.” It was Aaron, my suite mate. He and I shared a common room. “Shut it! I’ll be out in a second.” I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my waste. My boner hadn’t softened all the way, so I did what I could to cover it up. Aaron was standing there when I opened the door. He was already naked. I couldn’t help but look over his toned body, firm pecs, six-pack abs, big hard cock. “Move!” He shoved passed me into the stall. I was used to this ritual, it happened every morning. His morning wood slapped my thigh as he pushed past. “Over eight inches,” he bragged on our first such encounter, many months ago. He stood there naked, inches from me “Alright! I’m leaving!” He’d been a real dick since we met, always showing off or putting me down. I don’t know how we got paired. He’s more of the athletic type; I’m of the do-whatever-comes-along type. He played soccer, so his body was skinny but solid with good tone. His legs were his most impressive part, with amazing calves that seemed like stone even when he stood still. At least I’m taller. Back in my room I remembered the box. I opened it this time. Inside the wood was dark red. There were three pieces of something and a note. “Eat and grow.” I blinked at the note. “Eat and grow.” Fuck! This was either a prank or my wildest dream come true! The gods must have been smiling down at me! All caution out the window, I put one of the three somethings into my mouth and swallowed. It tasted bitter and made me frown. Then I waited. Nothing. I turned the note over and make sure I hadn’t missed any instructions. Nothing. “What a crock. It must be one of Aaron’s bad jokes. I’ll kill him for this.” I closed the box and threw it in the trash. Still rather annoyed, I put on my gym clothes, grabbed my bag, and left to meet Adam. Adam is the kid, err, man I work out with at the university gym. We met one morning during a workout. He didn’t like the town gyms, he said, so he used ours. I’d never seen him around town before. He said he’d had a recent growth spurt and needed someplace new to train. We’d gotten really close since then. Some even started calling us boyfriends. When I got to the gym, I found Adam alone in the old aerobics room. He lifted his shirt and moving his torso from side to side, watching the amazing relief of his eight-pack abs flex and bulge. His long brown hair swayed from side to side with his movement. My dick started to get hard, making an obvious tent my shorts. “You ready little man?” Adam saw me reflected in the mirror. He smiled bright at me. His bright brown eyes seemed to twinkle. “Got to get big!” he said and brought his arms up in a double bicep. Seventeen inches. I knew every inch of him by heart. With all his training he was really starting to look like an amateur bodybuilder. “Mhmm” was all I could manage. I dropped my bag. He walked over to me in that big guy swagger. “You look different,” his voice was deep. He sounded concerned. It’s hard to believe he’s younger than me. “Really?” I remembered the box! I looked down for changes, but nothing. “Strange.” He examined me for a moment. “I guess it was nothing.” He smiled down at me and grabbed me in a bear hug! I was a few inches off the ground. He’s six foot four. “I missed you!” he said and kissed me on the cheek. It felt amazing wrapped in his muscular arms. Almost energized. My cock jumped in my gym shorts at the feeling. “I saw you yesterday,” I gave him a wry grin. “So?” he gave me one final squeeze before putting me down. I’ve always loved Adam’s touch, but this time when he let go I almost felt withdrawal. My body wanted him. I had to touch him again. “Let’s skip the workout.” I was getting an idea. “What? No way. I love our workouts.” “I know what else you love...” I slid a hand under the base of his shirt to feel his rock hard abs. The amazing energy seemed to return. He grinned down at me as I traced the cobblestones making up his hard stomach. He flexed against my hand and I felt the firm ridges of his abs contract. “I had a bad morning. Please?” I looked at him longingly. My other hand hooked the elastic of his gym shorts and slid them slowly down. I let my hand linger for a moment on his thigh, feeling its solid mass. He was wearing his favorite neon green posing trunks. I knew nobody would interrupt us in this part of the gym. He closed his eyes and let out a low grunt in response. I continued to feel his chest, sliding my other hand upward until I reached his huge, tight, hard, round pecs. He bounced his chest for my pleasure. I’ve always loved the feeling of his heavy pecs, so firm and with perfect quarter sized nipples, but this time felt somehow better. It was something magical, extra erotic. With my other hand I gently cupped his balls, feeling them through his now exposed posing trunks. They were big and heavy; they filled my hand. But the best part came next. I moved to massage his thick cock. It was only semi-hard but already strained the green fabric. Lust began filling my every thought. I slowly removed his trunks, both of us standing there in the gym. Adam breathed in when the cold air hit his shaft. It stiffened more as I wrapped my fingers around its thickness. It grew harder with each passing moment, the head moving further away from my closed palm as it lengthened. I had Adam, almost twice my size, in rapture using only my touch. I felt strong! I looked at the mirror across from us, watching as I held his throbbing cock in one hand, massaging his hard, globe like pecs with the other. It felt hot. From somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I came to a sudden clarity. Focusing on myself, I noticed I was bigger. Not by much, but even through my clothes I could tell I had grown in size. My thoughts recalled the box. Maybe it wasn’t a prank after all. The growth was just delayed! I wanted more. Stopping suddenly, I pulled off my shirt. The energy from my contact with Adam stopped, but damn it was worth it. The mirror showed my normally skinny body was bigger. A solid six-pack had begun to show. My delts and biceps had started filling out. And best of all, my pecs had grown the fastest, already round and solid. They were flatter than I would have liked, but a cleft was forming between the two muscles. I never had that before. Adam seemed unresponsive to what was happening. He stood there watching me, breathing heavily, waiting for more of my touch. Still, I had to see more. I shucked my pants and glanced down at my legs. They were solid! I flexed and watched my thighs bounce. My underwear felt tighter too – I could feel the fabric hugging my ass tighter than ever before. This was incredible! And I wanted more. Adam gazed dottily at me as I pulled off his shirt. I took off his shoes and completely removed his posers. He stood there in his beautiful glory wearing only his socks. He was gorgeous standing there, cock at attention half way up his abs, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to continue my growth. Something about this energy was addicting. I needed to feel it again. And it was mine with a touch. I squatted down and took his cock into my mouth. It had reached its full ten inches of solid meat and I devoured it whole. I knew every ridge of his cut manhood, having sucked it dozens of times before, but this was somehow different. It felt somehow meeker than normal. I didn’t care, though. The growth energy felt stronger than before so I sucked and bobbed on his big cock as if my life depended on it. I reached around and dug my fingers into his ass cheeks. They were so hard they might have been made of granite, but smooth and sculpted like marble. The energy felt stronger still! I wanted more. I leaned forward against his legs to touch more of my body to his. I could feel my increased weight as I shifted forward. I felt heavy. Still sucking, I glanced at my arms. They must have been fourteen inches by now. Adam closed his eyes and let out a long moan. His voice seemed distant, softer than normal. I leaned in further, shifting more of my weight and using his body as support. I was putting all my strength into sucking his cock. My own dick was painfully hard by now. It throbbed in my underwear. It wanting to be released. I let go of Adam’s ass to pull off my skivvies. They were so tight with my expanding thighs, but I pulled free, releasing my member. It hit my abs with a *thwack*! I stopped. My eyes went wide. With my mouth unmoving and still on Adam’s cock, I reached down to touch it. It was bigger too! I rubbed it gently and it pulsed at the attention. Starting at the base, I moved in a long slow stroke to feel it’s new size. I gasped as I reached the tip, a shudder running through me. The gasp made me realize that there was more space in my mouth than before. I looked up at Adam in shock! From this view, I could see his abs and pecs had receded. His normally massive eight-pack looked to be a dwindling six-pack, and his once perfect pecs where smaller. I reached up to feel his body with my hands. He was smaller all over – his legs, his ass, his back, and even (as my mouth now realized) his cock! As if prompted by my comprehension, Adam stumbled backwards under my newly increased weight falling on his hands and elbows, his dick forcibly pulled from my mouth. I fell too, more in shock than pain. Even after the sudden movement, Adam looked content, even peaceful. He beamed at me from his prone position. I stood up, relishing the feeling my now harder and powerful legs. I looked in the mirror. What I saw there was incredible! My shoulders and neck were big. I used to look so narrow, but no longer. My pecs were round – round, solid, and powerful. They looked like volley balls fighting for space on my chest! I reached up to touched them, bounching them to feel their mass. They filled my now larger hands. The sensation made my cock jump. My arms and forearms looked amazing, with biceps at least fifteen inches. I flexed one, then the other. My once emerging six-pack had turned into a solid cobblestone of six massive bulges, with two more just becoming visible below my pecs. I looked like a fitness model -- one that spent too much time in the gym! Finally, I focused on my dick. An amazing V shape had formed below my abs, my hip flexors pointing to a dick I was proud to display. It had clearly pushed past seven inches and hovered in front of my abs between eight and nine. It quivered there, waiting to be pleasured. It was as thick as Adam’s, or as thick as his used to be. I looked down at Adam now, feeling scared by what I had done to this kid – this kid that over the past months, I had begun to love. But I also felt lust. It wasn’t lust for his now smaller form. It was lust for more. More muscle. I could take more! He still had muscle. At the very least he went from an amateur bodybuilder to athletic swimmer! And besides, he’s younger than me. He could get it back quickly! I needed the energy. Standing him up, I pressed his front against the mirror. His back was much smaller now, but there was still muscle there. Muscle to steal. I positioned my now larger dick between his ass cheeks. With a light push, I felt my now enlarged dick head press against his tight hole. Adam let out a whimper. He looked so content, like he was enjoying all this. He wanted my cock in his ass as much I wanted to feel my new size and strength filling his hole. I pushed in. The energy flowed freely now! If it felt amazing before, it was beyond imagining now! Going slow at first, I pushed in. Inch after inch of my growing cock pushed deeper until my pubes pushed against Adam’s now smaller ass. I could feel my legs and arms increase in strength. Pump after pump filled me with more energy! Energy I needed more than anything in the world! I could feel my strength increasing fast as I picked him off the ground, my dick still inside. That would have been impossible just moments ago, but now here I was. Big. My arms budged and flexed as I lifted his weight. They hit sixteen inches for sure! Harder and harder I began to pump into him as my weight increased. I could see more and more of myself in the mirror as my shoulders and back widened. They past what must have been fifty inches. I must have been getting taller, too! I was slowly lifting Adam higher and higher off the ground. He became easier to hold as my arms pushed past seventeen and grew quickly towards eighteen inches. I could feel my cock expanding thicker, his ass getting tighter with each push, each stroke getting longer too. It felt huge! Probably past twelve inches! But still I wanted more. I closed my eyes, pumping frantically and feeling the energy fill me. It felt so good, so incredible. I could never have imagined something so hot! Lust filled me and I craved more. I was in pure ecstasy! “Gods this feels amazing!” I was trembling with the pleasure. Both our weights were pushing hard against the mirror. I glanced up; I looked massive! Finally, with one full and solid pump, I came. I threw my head back and let out a moan that sounded more like a scream! I kept cumming and cumming into Adam’s ass. More and more pleasure filled my head as I felt my balls grow heavier in their sack and my load shoot harder and more frequent. I allowed the feeling to overwhelm me, standing there with Adam in my huge arms! Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. I opened my eyes to see the most beautiful face I had ever seen staring back at me. I was different, stronger -- a true man. My green eyes flashed back at me. After a moment, my stare faded. The pleasure rushed from me and I realized the face in the mirror was still me. I felt a weak shutter against my abs and I looked down. Adam, was still in my arms, and had cum against the mirror. He looked small now, like an eighteen year-old kid. His now five inch cock began to deflate. Reality hit me. What had I done? I pulled him off my dick and set him on his feet. He blinked at himself in the mirror a few times, suddenly aware of what had happened. His mouth fell open in shock as he examined his new body. He made no sounds. I was significantly taller now -- a definite change from our previous roles. Neither of us moved. Except for his horrified continence, he looked healthy. He looked like me when I was his age. “Adam?” I focused on him, a tear running down my face. What had I done? He looked me in the eyes for a moment before darting away. He ran to where I left his clothes and grabbed them in his small arms. A look of confusion and sadness overcame his face. He paused then he dropped his clothes in favor of my old, much smaller garments. He pulled on my shorts. They looked too big. He looked at me one last time -- it was a look that showed I had betrayed him and his love – before he ran for the door.

Part 3 of this story. Arpeejay commented on the last installment that the viewpoint of the narrator can be a bit confusing at times. My apologies for that - I like to mess around with perspective but hopefully all the clues one needs as to who's talking are in there somewhere. Let me know if that's not the case and as always please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2014 by [email protected] Part 1 - The Bug: Rory Part 2 - The Bug: Lenny Part 3 The Bug: Mehmet I could think again. The overpowering rush of desire and lust was over, though it had taken a good four hours to work through it. This was only the third time it had happened but like the others while I was in it I became a prisoner of this big new body I’d be given. A willing prisoner perhaps, since I’d totally enjoyed it, but there was still a part of me, a small part, that resented being bossed around by my dick. In Mehmet’s bathroom mirror I could see my face, strikingly handsome even now with sweaty hair framing it. I’d never had a problem picking up guys before, not since I carved out my niche here in the city, but I was in a different league these days. I was a very big, very badass motherfucker who could get any guy I wanted. I’d been this way for about two months though I’d only fucked around three times in that period. I washed my face and then gargled some mouthwash, cherry flavor. Who the hell buys cherry flavored mouthwash? Must be a Turkish thing. Turning sideways I slid out of the bathroom, through his small dressing room and back into the bedroom. Mehmet was sitting naked in the bed watching me with big eyes. “What did you mean by that, Lenny?” he asked in a too quiet voice. “Huh?” I sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed my shorts, bunching up one leg to start the laborious process of getting them up over my thighs. “You said I was going be like you.” I swear my fuckin’ legs are still growing. The shorts seemed to catch further down on my quads than they had before. Man, size is great and all but it’s hell trying to keep up with clothing. “Lenny?” “Oh yeah, I mean you’ll prolly get the same thing from me that I got from my buddy Rory. All this.” Then I shrugged my shoulders and arms and chest. He got the idea. “That’s how you got so big? You weren’t like this a couple months ago, the first time we met.” “Nope,” I agreed, snagging one of my sandals with my foot. “It all started just about then, but him first then me.” I stood up and began to pull on my shirt, another tough task. “And maybe you next, that’s all I’m saying.” My head popped through the neck of the shirt and I could see him again. He looked scared, like he’d just gotten bad news from the doctor. I felt for him – I’d been there myself not too long before – but I knew it would pass. He’d get into it. “So how big are you,” he was asking but with an expression that said he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I was a little over 280 on Thursday.” I didn’t mention my expanding thighs. “No,” he groaned. ”I can’t get that big. I couldn’t explain it at work. Or to my family – they’d never understand.” His voice was rising. “Hey.” I let my own voice, deeper now than it had ever been, drop a notch. He shut up immediately. “Relax,” I ordered. “Maybe you have nothing to worry about. Maybe this was all just a crazy fuck you can tell your friends about over brunch.” I was lying but he didn’t know that. I’d seen the other two guys I messed around with so I knew what was going to happen. Plus Rory and I talked about it when we ran into each other few days earlier at a club uptown. When the feeling came on we fucked – nothing stopped us – and the guy we fucked ended up like us in a few weeks, like it or not. Mehmet was in for a big, wild-ass ride and it didn’t matter how work or family or anyone else felt about it. Hell, it didn’t even matter how he felt about it. But like I said, I understood what he was going through. I bent down and gave him a long slow kiss and wasn’t surprised to notice his dick start to harden between his legs. When the kiss ended I held his chin and tried to give him a big-brother type look. I have no idea if it actually came across that way. “You’re gonna be fine,” I said, “no matter what happens. Trust me.” And because he had no choice he nodded in agreement, desperation shining in his eyes, the poor little fuck. Mehmet stayed in for the rest of the night, trying to forget what happened that day but that proved difficult given that his apartment reeked of Lenny. Each time the huge man came to mind a picture of their sweaty bodies joined together would flash through his brain and he would squeeze his eyes shut, trying vainly to erase the thought and feel of the man. It was impossible. On top of that he was ravenous which wasn’t surprising considering what he and Lenny had been up to for three or four hours. He resisted eating, though, thinking that the big man’s unbelievable prediction that he would grow huge couldn’t come true if he stopped eating. Well, maybe not stop completely since that would simply result in starvation but he could limit his intake and fight whatever it was Lenny and his friend Rory had somehow caught. By 1 AM, surrounded by the remains of a late night dash to a diner around the corner for the largest takeout order he’d ever made, Mehmet realized it was not going to be as easy as he hoped. At least the painful contractions of his stomach were gone and he was able to sleep. He’d come up with a new plan in the morning. And he would have made a new plan but he overslept and barely had enough time to throw on some clothes and run out the door to get to work on time. It was a crazy Monday at the bank and despite his initial concerns that whatever happened to Lenny would happen to him he was soon fixated on work and only had an occasional moment to think about the previous afternoon. When lunchtime came he was certainly hungry but not in a crazy way and by the time Monday evening came he pretty much decided that his fears were overblown. It should have been impossible to make the kind of muscle gains Lenny made in such a short period of time but who knew what weird steroids were available these days. Mehmet had no interest in such things so he’d never looked into them but it wouldn’t be surprising if there was something out there that blew you up temporarily or caused you to retain massive amounts of water. Plus there was that synthol stuff that people injected. For all he knew Lenny could have been carrying around enough oil to deep fry köfte. By the time he headed home after his long day Mehmet wasn’t so concerned about morphing into some kind of muscled hulk. Instead he was remembering the amazingly hot sex he and Lenny had. In a way it was embarrassing since he was such a committed top but there was no way Mehmet could deny the lust and passion he’d felt when 280 pounds of muscle was pulverizing his tight hole. The memory was powerful enough that he had to shift his briefcase in front of his groin as he walked the crowded streets of the financial district on his way to the train. Displaying an obvious erection outside the stock exchange was hardly the way to climb the corporate ladder. When he got home he downed a protein drink and got ready for the gym but on his way out the door stopped and started looking around his desk. He had a distinct memory of Lenny writing down his number on a handy pad of paper after they finished their lunchtime fuck a few months before but he couldn’t find it now. Mehmet could only frown in frustration that he neglected to transfer the number to his phone when he had the chance. Lenny just didn’t seem very important at the time. If nothing else the memory of the new huge Lenny (however he’d gotten that way) made Mehmet work extra hard at the gym that night. Yeah the sex had been hot but it wasn’t like he was going to turn into some kind of super bottom because of it. He lifted hard and heavy and ended up with a great looking pump. It must have been great because he got looks from a lot of different guys that night, and as the workout continued he found himself returning some of the predatory looks that came his way. In the end it came down to a red-headed go-go boy he once saw dancing on the bar at Roundhouse and this black dude who entered the gym in a very modern English suit but hit the gym floor in a pair of tight nylon running shorts that barely covered his curvaceous ass. Feeling much more like his old self Mehmet chose the running shorts. In a few days Lenny was just a hot memory that came to mind at odd times when he was working or at the gym or out with friends. Mehmet kept an eye out for him but never saw him at any of the bars or clubs he went to. Once he saw a big, built guy walking towards him down Empire Avenue that from a distance looked like Lenny, but on closer inspection it was just a very well built stranger. Mehmet stared the guy down as they passed each other but the big man was focused on a blonde model dude at his side and didn’t notice. Mehmet managed to live a kind of fantasy for week before reality intervened and let him know he hadn’t avoided Lenny’s prediction. There was a scale in his bathroom which was always a bit dusty because he never bothered using it, preferring to gauge his fitness by what he saw in the mirror. He’d caught site of it there in the corner after his second encounter with Lenny and laughed to himself, vowing he wouldn’t give into paranoia by weighing himself now. But a week later he was starting to have doubts as his gym workouts became more and more intense and his work clothes started feeling strangely tight. One morning, after wrestling to close the top button on a dress shirt (the match ended when the button went flying off behind the radiator), Mehmet took a deep breath and stepped on the scale, more to disprove his fears than confirm them. Only they were confirmed – he was at 194 pounds and he was pretty damn sure he’d been about 185 for the entire summer. The view in the mirror agreed with the scale even though he’d been trying to ignore the warnings in the back of his mind. He definitely looked bigger and fuller, but tighter as well, more ripped than normal. He was pretty sure his waist had gone down some, maybe even an inch, and it was only 31 before. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands wondering what to do. Logically he should cut out the gym but that seemed so drastic. It was the anchor of his life, in all honesty, and had been ever since he first had sex with another guy. Why should he have to give it up? “So you don’t become some kind of freak,” he quietly told himself. He didn’t wear a tie to work that day, lying to his boss about a coffee mishap on the way to work. At lunchtime bought a new tie and a bigger shirt but delayed pricing new suits. They might just be a waste of money if he continued growing. When he got back to the office he called and made an appointment with his doctor. The receptionist told him they didn’t have an opening until the end of the week. On Friday he sat in his underwear on the examining table at the doctor’s office, half frustrated but half gratified. He’d done his best all week to scale back on his workouts but once in the gym it proved impossible. He had so much energy and such a need to move weight that he always ended up killing each workout. He was lifting heavier weight every day and scarfing down more and more calories afterwards in an attempt to fill the bottomless pit that was his stomach. His inability to turn off this new-found energy caused the frustration but he couldn’t fight the excitement he felt every time he looked in the mirror and saw the expanding width of his torso or the increased mass in his thighs. Strangely, it didn’t seem to be translating into a higher sex drive. He’d hooked up with that black guy the day after Lenny but since then he hadn’t really had the urge to fuck around again even though the signals he was getting at the gym, on the street and on the subway were increasingly brazen. Some of the guys signaling were fucking hot, he could see that, but he hadn’t felt the need to play with any of them. Not that his dick wasn’t up and ready – it was half hard most of the time and when at full mast he could see changes there too which was yet another thing that flat out impossible. “Hello, Mehmet,” a voice said interrupting his thoughts. “It’s nice to see you again.” Dr. Lovejoy stepped through the examining room doorway and shut it behind him. When he finally got insurance a few years back Mehmet had insisted on finding a gay doctor and a friend told him that Ken Lovejoy was the man to see. He was a great doctor but also hot as hell even if he was happily married to a popular gay dentist. The couple lived in Kensington and partied at circuit events around the world when they weren’t seeing patients in the city. Mehmet had been lucky to find a place on the doctor’s roster of patients. Mehmet smiled in response to Lovejoy’s greeting and managed a quiet hello in response. He’d seen the doctor a couple times a year for a while now but suddenly he took a fresh look at the man. Short brown hair, wide dark eyes and beautiful lips – fuck, Lovejoy really was a handsome guy, wasn’t he. The white lab coat he wore with a navy blue polo shirt underneath did nothing to hide that the doctor kept himself in good shape. No, excellent shape. “Wow, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it,” Lovejoy said as he gave Mehmet a slow up and down look. “You’ve really bulked up. Looks great.” He offered a bright smile and looked down at the chart he’d been given by his staff. “It’s time for us to update some basic info which is why they ask you to strip down. Why don’t you step over here and we’ll get through that before we talk about why you’ve come in.” He motioned Mehmet over to a scale and then fiddled with the weight bar when he stepped on. “209.4,” he muttered while updating the chart. He checked Mehmet’s height as well but that hadn’t changed. The patient didn’t say anything while this was going on and instead continued to study the good doctor. When had Ken Lovejoy gotten so fucking sexy? He’d always been hot but damn, right now he looked good enough to eat. Mehmet could feel his dick hardening in his briefs but found he didn’t care. It was a natural reaction; the doctor must have seen it a million times before. “So what’s up?” Lovejoy finally asked when the basics were out of the way and they were seated again, Mehmet on the examining table and Lovejoy in a nearby chair. “I’ve put on a lot of weight lately and I just wanted to be sure everything was OK,” Mehmet said smoothly, his eyes fixed on the other man’s. He’d come here to get medical help but suddenly that seemed irrelevant. All he could think about right now was what the doctor looked like under his clothes. “You’ve gained more than thirty pounds since your last visit,” the doctor said giving Mehmet a firm but understanding look. “Do you want to tell me what you’re on?” Mehmet spread his hands in a mute denial of the doctor’s accusation and was gratified to see Lovejoy’s eyes drop down to his chest and widening lats. “Uh, well, all I can say is that if you want me to provide you with guidance you’ve got to be honest with me. That’s not natural weight gain, we both know that.” “I’m not taking anything,” Mehmet replied, “and that’s the truth. It’s crazy but I’m growing everywhere.” He emphasized the last word and was once again gratified to see Lovejoy’s eyes drop down, this time to his groin where his dick was harder than it had been in a couple weeks. The doctor’s eyes widened Mehmet hopped off the table and quickly slid off his briefs. “Jesus,” Ken breathed and stared at his patient’s throbbing dick a moment before quickly turning his head to check that the door was still closed. Then, in a flustered voice, “Put your underwear back on.” “Don’t you want to examine me?” Mehmet asked in a low growl and Lovejoy looked up in surprise at the change in his patient’s demeanor. Mehmet had a plan when he came here, a hope that the doctor could help him find some way to slow and eventually stop the changes happening to his body. Maybe not right away, but that was only because he’d come to realize that a little more size wasn’t a huge problem. In the days since he made the appointment he decided that 215 pounds was as far as he could realistically go without getting too many questions at work or from his family. Yeah, 215 at the most. Only right now that didn’t seem very important. No, what was really important was getting a look a Lovejoy in the buff. Mehmet was starting to feel the buzz he’d been feeling in the gym the last couple weeks, that sense of strength and purpose only right now there weren’t any weights to work on. The doc would have to fill in this time and maybe afterwards they could talk about how to keep him below 225. Maybe 230. The doctor gulped at the look in Mehmet’s eyes and jumped to his feet. He could have made a break for the door then but instead he stood rooted to the ground as his patient stepped up and put his hands in the opening at the top of his lab coat, pulling down hard so that the buttons went flying and it opened wide to display his chest under the tight shirt below. “Mehmet, we can’t do this,” he gasped, belatedly moving backwards until he was pressed up against a nearby cabinet. “I’m your physician and-.” They both knew that fact so it wasn’t any great loss when Mehmet silenced him with a deep kiss, his tongue forcing its way deep into the doctor’s mouth. Ken halfheartedly resisted but within a few seconds he was grappling back, his hands grabbing at the other man’s broad, naked back pulling him in closer. Mehmet’s rock hard dick was sandwich between their stomachs, leaking onto the blue polo shirt until it too was pulled off and discarded into the growing heap of clothing in the corner. Outside in the doctor’s office a nurse walking by the examination room stopped when he heard a strange sound. He paused and listened for a moment before raising his hand to knock on the door. Another muffled sound made him reconsider and then slowly lower his hand. He shook his head and continued on down the corridor. The calendar said fall but the weather still felt like summer so the piers were crowded as Lenny strolled across Riverside Highway and into the throngs gathered in the clean, new parks recently constructed near the bay. People turned and stared as he ambled by in nothing but a pair of very tight basketball shorts and unlaced basketball shoes. He’d just tried out a new gym a few blocks away and though there were signs posted mandating proper workout attire no one had the nerve to approach a 300+ pound mass of muscle to tell him he should be wearing a shirt. The workout went well even if the weights were a bit on the light side. He walked by the water, idly watching the crowd but not bothering to return the eager looks coming at him from all sides. He’d screwed a Chinese food delivery guy just a couple nights earlier and didn’t feel the need to hook up again. It would probably be another couple weeks before he felt the urge and when it happened it’d undoubtedly be as surprising to him as it was to whomever he selected. The delivery guy certainly hadn’t expected the tip he’d gotten. Glancing at an expense of grass beside the path where he was walking Lenny caught site of a very large, swarthy man in a yellow speedo sunning himself on a blanket. A wide smile spread across his face and he walked over, standing so he blocked the sun falling on the reclining form. The guy on the ground shielded his eyes as he looked up and then started chuckling when he saw who was standing there. “You’re so fucking big you’re causing an eclipse,” Mehmet joked, which just caused Lenny to shrug his huge delts before dropping down onto the blanket. “You’re looking pretty huge yourself,” he said, returning the compliment. “I guess you got into the swing of things after all.” “Yeah, I worked it all out. Just took some getting used to.” The too looked each other over, two massively muscled men that could hop up on the Olympia stage and easily take first and second place. It was crazy and made absolutely no sense but neither one was particularly worried about that. They had both changed into something bigger and better than before and that was enough for now. If there was something more they’d deal with it when it came. “You fucked around recently?” Lenny asked. “Bout a week ago, I guess,” Mehmet answered, thinking back. “My neighbor downstairs pounded on my door cuz I was making too much noise walking around. As soon as I saw him there I knew…” He shrugged and Lenny nodded in response. That’s how it worked. They just knew. The two huge men looked off into the crowd in companionable silence. After a few minutes Lenny laughed out loud and hollered, “Rory!” An enormous man – bigger even than Lenny – turned his head and then walked over with a slow, bow-legged gait. He had his arm slung possessively around the neck of a much smaller man at his side. The little guy looked vaguely familiar to Mehmet from his days down in the financial district which reminded him that he hadn’t been to work for a while. Good thing money wasn’t hard to come by when you were built like they were. Lenny climbed to his feet and Mehmet did the same as Rory approached. By now there was a small crowd forming a respectful distance away as people tried to make sense of three huge men in such close proximity. Most of the spectators were gay men though there were a number of women as well. “Heya, Ror,” Lenny said and the two men came together in a massive half hug. “How ya doing?” “I’m great, Len. Just heading to my friend’s to relax for a while.” Here he gave his smaller companion a tight squeeze that forced most of the air from the guy’s lungs. He looked a bit dazed as if unsure that he was ready for what was about to happen to him. “Excellent. Hey, this is my buddy, Mehmet. We hooked up a ways back.” Rory smiled and reached forward with his free hand, hooking Mehmet’s neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss. His smaller companion gasped in shock at the site as did a few of the jealous crowd. “Great to meet you,” Rory said stepping back. “Lenny has great taste.” “He did me a favor,” Mehmet said with a sly smile in Lenny’s direction. “I guess you both did in a way.” “Glad I could help. Hey, I gotta get my friend home,” Rory said with a deadpan look. “You know how it is.” The other two big men nodded in understanding and watched as Rory led his quarry off the grass and back down the sidewalk, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea. “I’m gonna get going too,” Lenny said and gave Mehmet a bone cracking hug before heading up towards the piers. Mehmet watched him go and then lay back down on his blanket to get some more sun before it was time to pack up and hit the gym.

Hey guys, Sorry for the delay, but here's the next installment of: THE AGE OF MUSCLE GODS! Story by Muscl4life Chapter I Chapter II CHAPTER III: Steve's Trigger I returned to my car, still feeling a bit numb after seeing the wonderful feats of strength performed by three impossibly huge muscle men, the very proof beyond any shadow of doubt that the reports about huge muscle geezers all over the world were not hoax after all. Our world was changing very fast, but I still had trouble to process such amazing transition. Deep down, I felt the things Kent, Vince and Roger told me still echoing in my mind. They were convinced that I would trigger the same kind of spectacular muscle growth on my Uncle Steve, but my greatest surprise was to realize that I really didn’t know how I should react if such idea became truth. I never asked Uncle Steve about his sexual orientation, neither has he ever bothered to inquire about mine. We just recognized each other as gay men belonging to different generations of the same family. Back in the day, he had to muffle and disguise his preference for men, passing by a “lifetime bachelor” and for that, he was very supportive when I came out for my family. If I was really to be his trigger, and, in that case, if our blood connection could also supposedly increase the results, Uncle Steve would certainly become something else… For starters, unlike most of the growing geezers, who have been sick, weak or totally out of shape before the power surged in their bodies, my Uncle Steve has always been a very fit man. He had been a Park Ranger for more than 30 years before retirement, but in the recent years my only uncle was no other than Steve “Rock” Finnegan, the 68 year old bodybuilder who became famous in this community as a well successful competitor in the Masters Class. On top of that, he had only started in the sport at the age of 54 years old! Uncle Steve loved being in the great outdoors much more than living among people, he never married neither had any children, and his work allowed him to spend most of the time in touch with the nature. Such simplistic lifestyle allowed him to save great deals of money so he could retire relatively earlier than most workers could, but this actually turned out to be a great mistake, because the poor guy suddenly did not know what to do with so many free hours in his days. I was the one who actually introduced Uncle Steve to the gym routine. He has always very athletic in his own ways, standing at 155 pounds of very toned and wired pounds at 54 years old, but he simply didn’t consider the idea of practicing sports confined in a single building. Back then, I thought it would be a great way to encourage further socializing skills on my very secluded relative, and it turned out a great plan, because the pumping bug immediately bit him. Even with his initial great shape, this newfound passion for bodybuilding in the mature years of his life still provoked quite the commotion. People were actually very impressed on how easily Steve managed to continue add solid pounds to his physique, and so he won his first show only 18 months after he firstly stepped inside a gym. Competing at nearly 56 years old, Uncle Steve stepped onstage with ripped 175 pounds of hard muscle, after bulking up to nearly 190 pounds, my Uncle’s pictures were soon in all the specialized magazines, and he even got sponsorship and a few gigs to support this unexpected new carrier. However, that was nearly 12 years ago. At the very day of his 68th birthday, my dear Uncle won his category at a very prestigious world-wide bodybuilding show, and people said that regardless his age, he should be allowed to compete for the overall champion, because he was impressively cut and huge at 185 pounds of hard muscles. Most people didn’t seem to acknowledge the fact that he managed to pack over 30 pounds of lean hard muscle, which he cut down from being over 200 pounds just a few months before, and I actually realized that he had surpassed my own physique, despite the fact I am 37 years younger! I guess Uncle Steve has always been much more physically fit than me, but now that he was also considerably heavier and much more muscular, I finally realized that my own Uncle was super-hot muscle daddy material. I couldn’t help but feeling incredibly guilty for being sexually attracted to my own Uncle. At first, I simply could not accept such fact, trying to deny the obviousness of my feelings by preferring over complex theories. I tried to overcome such attraction by drifting away from my dear Uncle, spending less time with such amazing silver haired muscular daddy hoping that it could help me to get back to the way things were between us. However, it did not prove effective at all. During the following weeks, Uncle Steve phoned constantly, telling how he missed me, and he would take no excuse, he wanted me to be present on his biggest show. Since I had no courage to disappoint my dear Uncle even further, I had no other choice other than going. When he got that 1st place trophy back home, the look on his face was priceless; all he wanted to do was celebrating with me as he ate lots of formerly forbidden food such as pizza, burgers and cake. Once the reports on the huge senior muscle men outgrowing their younger counterparts began popping all over the media, Uncle Steve’s usual joy of life simply faded away. He spent his days checking for new reports, calling his friends and trying to locate any grown elder of his knowledge, he was simply getting obsessed with the fact some guys who had never been as big as him had suddenly exploded in size and strength. Even I had unadvisedly contributed to deepen his frustration with a single comment. I tried to cheer him up by saying. “You’d better stop snooping around, Uncle Steve. One of these days it’ll be you on those reports.” “I hope you’re right kid.” He replied in a very serious tone. Right at that moment, I felt he truly wanted to be one of these lucky huge men, he was miserable because he wasn’t huge like that, and I felt miserable because he knew that I wanted him to be huge as well. Since then things have never been the same between us. Not until this weird day. I finally parked my car at Uncle Steve’s huge front yard. He lived in a full acre sized property with a lots free space around his house. I got out of my car and walked towards the house, knocked at the door with my heart pounding inside my chest. “Uncle Steve? Are you there…we need to talk…” I called him, looking through the front window to see if he was in the living room. There were groans coming from the backyard so I ran in that direction, only to find my Uncle working out at his outdoor gym, something he had recently installed so he could still enjoy his two greatest passions together: being outdoors and lifting weights. “Oh hey there stranger! Be with you in a minute…” Uncle Steve said in a cool, casual tone. He finished the last three reps on each arm of his bicep curls, lifting an impressive cargo in such perfect form; I was lost in the size and ruggedness of that manly ball of muscle, so veined, so hard and cut. I watched mind-absently the glorious form of my 5’8” tall amazingly ripped 67-year-old Uncle, he wore black spandex shorts and a white UA T-shirt that was literally painted over his chiseled sculptured muscles. He wore his black rimmed grandpa glasses, his silver hair cut really short covering his head and that masculine, yet very handsome and serene face completely shaven, and I could see every single vein and striation of his vascular physique pulsing and throbbing. “So, it took you more than usual to get here, I was getting worried.” Uncle Steve had this soothing friendly face, at least when he felt comfortable with someone, but most of the times he just seemed too serious and hardly approachable. That incredibly hot muscle daddy walked towards me and I felt my knees getting weaker by the second. “Yeah, there was an accident on the highway; I had to wait until they cleared the road.” I said without really noticing that Uncle Steve gently stroke my face with the back of his hand, something that he never did before. My impressively hunky uncle just chuckled. “You mean those three huge SMM’s they showed in the news, right?” I froze, because I did not really know how he would react to such fact, after all, he had been very sensitive about this topic. “It’s okay, John. I actually have seen those guys before. They’re Bruce’s friends.” It all came back to me so fast: all the weird things Brad told me earlier in my office and his very particular connection with his grandfather. Then, I remembered the little jokes those muscle geezers made when they realized I was going to see my uncle, implying that I was to be his trigger. “Uncle Steve, I don’t have a fucking clue about today’s events. This weird teenager came to my office seeking for my help, but it turned out he just wanted me to believe he was the sole responsible for the appearance of the Senior Muscle Men, like he could make men grow at his will. And out of nowhere he told me that he knew you, I got really scared.” I felt his hard, strong, yet comforting hug. Uncle Steve was two inches shorter but had at least 50 pounds of hard muscle on me; his condition was impeccable even though he should be off right now. “It’s alright, John. Bruce told me he sent Brad to see you, so you could also understand what is happening.” “So, you also believe in their crazy theory? I mean, Uncle Steve, they are…” I bite my tongue before I said something that would completely unethical and unprofessional. “I am not saying they are right, until it happens to me.” He said at once. “Uncle Steve…I don’t know what to do. I mean I REALLY wanted you could start growing huge like those guys, because that would make you so happy, but I am not sure if I can make that happen!” I was still hugging his muscular back and squeezing him tighter. “John, do you want it to happen because of me, or because of us?” He said gently breaking the hug and holding the back of my head with one hand. “I just want you to be happy.” I whispered. “And I just want to be huge, massively built and powerful, for you and especially for me! I realized that I can finally be everything I ever wanted, and I would be thrilled if it is you the one to grant me that.” He said in such a sincere tone, and his erection pressing against my own crotch felt like a jolt electricity surging through my body. Next thing I noticed was his handsome face inching towards me; I closed my eyes and felt his warm harsh tongue invading my mouth with the courage that I would never have in my life. The muscular older man’s hands ran up towards my chest and gently rested around my chest area, carefully cupping my very sensitive nipples. The kiss was delicate and yet so determined, not very long but it lasted long enough to say all the things we needed but words would just make it too complicated. “I’ve talked a lot with Bruce about the triggering, and he told me it is actually something the trigger induces the SMM to do rather than doing for him. Almost like you are sponsoring the change.” Uncle Steve said as he caressed my hair. “There’s nothing I want in my life, Uncle…I just want you to be huge like them. Fuck…you already are the sexiest man on Earth. If you grow that huge…” “When I grow that huge, boy. You are my trigger, it will happen. In fact, it has already started.” He cut me before I ruined that special moment. His hands sneaked down my butt and lifted me from the ground. I actually ignored the reason of my surprise upon noticing the easiness in which he lifted me, because I knew my incredibly strong Uncle could lift much heavier weights than my own; my legs instinctively wrapped around his thin waist and I moaned feeling my body resting supported by his manly strength. “It has started already…” I said with a true excitement found in my heart. I no longer theorized and considered situations, I knew that my Uncle was a muscle geezer, he had always been, all I needed was reminding him of that. “I feel it too, my boy.” Uncle Steve grinned as he carried me easily inside the house, taking enough care to avoid bumping at the objects. I could feel his muscles were actually dealing with my weight with increasing nimbleness, even shifting me higher while fondling with the globes of my butt underneath my jeans. Uncle Steve swiftly carried us to the bedroom; he sat on the bed still kissing my mouth as he carried me so easily. The moans and groans coming from my mouth indicated the level of my pleasure. Then, he laid down in the mattress and I felt my arms running through his chiseled sculptural ageless muscular body. “Worship me, boy. Give your muscle daddy the value he deserves. Fuck…if all these younger guys would already kill to have muscles like mine, now they will have to wait until much longer, because they’ll never be as huge as I’ll be…” Uncle Steve said in a deep, guttural tone that I never from him, something husky and sexy, and that new revelation only fed the furnace of my lust. I kissed every crevice, belly and valley of those huge veined arms, paying special attention to his rugged biceps, which he flexed proudly. At that very moment, I realized we were still fully clothed, but our cocks were so hard they ached for release, like the worst case of blue balls in the history. “Get naked…” He instructed me and I obliged, trying to get rid of my clothes as if they were suddenly on fire. Once I stood completely in the buff of my own 175 muscular pounds, with my throbbing 6 inches long cock, panting of anticipation, desire burning through my eyes as I finally envisioned my own Uncle as the muscular alpha male he truly was. “Now, take my clothes off, and feel how tight they are already…” Steve performed his role perfectly, guiding and helping to overcome any inhibitions I still had. My eager hands actually needed his help to yank those tight clothes from his marvelous veined muscles, starting at his shirt, which seemed painted over these bulging ripped muscles. I attempted to remove the pants faster, but the thickness of the thighs and the muscularity of the butt just made it a much harder task than I could anticipate. At last, Uncle Steve just smirked and collaborated with my yanking, and soon I saw his glorious 8.5 inches hard, uncut cock, totally shaven along with his ball sack, which made him look a perfect porn actor. My mouth opened and the next moment I had that precious tube of man-meat down my throat, which made Uncle Steve gasp of pleasure, I’ve always been proud of my deep throating skills, so when I looked at his marveled expression to discover his nephew was a damn hot young cocksucker. A kinky smile was the tip he needed to press the back of my neck to encourage even longer, deeper movements, connecting his huge schlong to the back of my throat and trying to slide further into my esophagus, only to return with a furious gag reflex that made both of us groan with excitement. “Damn, John…You’re so fucking hot…” Uncle Steve said as he grabbed my face and kissed me so hard that I felt the world spinning after he broke the kiss, the grin in his manly face was just priceless. I needed no words to express my lust, so I just laid on my back and Uncle Steve just mounted me, taking his time to carefully rest his muscular weight over my much thinner frame and feel his dominance over my muscular, but still much smaller physique. “Oh, shit… I never thought you were so heavy!” I said, trying to accommodate my body under his muscular frame, which made my Uncle immensely happy. “Enjoy while you can, boy. I’ll never be this light ever again! From now on, I am only going to get bigger, harder, thicker, stronger and heavier, much more muscular just to make you feel tiny and crushed like a little bug. But don’t worry; soon we’ll learn new ways to fuck…” Uncle Steve hugged me and rolled us over, gently making me rest on top of his amazing muscular frame. I was still two whole inches taller, but that muscle man was so wide and thick, his veined muscles feeling so hard supporting the pressure of my weight without denting, keeping their glorious form. I just kissed the hard nipples and licked the amazing cleavage of that incredible fortress that was his shaven chest. “Will you keep that hairy beast look like most of SMM’s Uncle Steve?” To be honest, I asked such question because I didn’t know which I preferred best, the scruffy, ultra manly hairy muscle monsters or the divine like smooth behemoth muscle masters. “Well…if you want me me to be smooth, you’ll have to shave me and take care of that yourself. I only care about growing bigger for you. Besides, this will give you lots of fun deciding which version of me you prefer, hairy or smooth.” Uncle Steve chuckled as he groped my butt and squeezed it so hard that I saw stars. “Uncle Steve…” I whispered. “Damn, sorry boy…it’s just…I am feeling so great, and having you here, finally in the way I’ve dreamt for so many years…” I just kissed my older massive muscular man and rubbed my naked butt against his cock in a very sensual movement. “I need you so badly, Uncle Steve…” At that point I finally realized that the fact we were related was in fact one of the sexiest and kinkiest part of being fucked by that gorgeous muscle stud. All of a sudden, his bounced from the mattress and sent me flying into the air. With an incredible agility, Uncle Steve easily managed to turn the tables once again, pinning me back on the bed as he held my arms together with just one hand. “Boy, you really have no idea how much I need you…” His voice was even deeper, huskier, and manlier. I suddenly realized he easily hoisted my legs on his wide thick shoulders and kissed me harshly while his hard cock entered me without any kind of warning. “Oh, shit…you’re such a stud! So manly, so strong!” “Yeah, babe, and only getting bigger!” He said as his teeth toyed with my very sensitive nipple. Then, he just engulfed my throbbing cock in his mouth and I gasped out loud. He sucked me so hard, so intensely, so powerfully that it didn’t take him more than a few minutes to bring me to the edge. “Uncle Steve…I’m gonna cum…please stop!” I urged him, not wanting to break such a beautiful moment so soon. “Heh, don’t worry boy…I am in charge, just relax and enjoy the ride!” He said while holding my cock with such a tight grip I could swear it would explode. His mouth went back to my sensitive head and I felt his own throat going deeper while the suction increased which caused me to buck and cuss like a sailor while Uncle Steve drank my juices eagerly. He kept sucking me until I was completely dry, feeling the incredibly pleasing pain of being milked right after such huge load. “Oh…Uncle Steve that was amazing!” I said still panting, but his thick finger silenced my lips. “It has barely started, boy. You kids need to learn a lot about sex.” Uncle Steve said as he flexed his two arms, hitting his glorious double biceps, my all-time favorite pose. It was then my cock sprung back into life, harder than ever. “Fuck…you’re a monster…you even look bigger!” I didn’t know if I was right, but from my privileged point of view I really felt that he seemed bigger all over, but maybe it was just because all that talk about triggering his transformation into a Senior Muscle Man. I attacked the marvelous hard rugged biceps, taking a good bite at them just to feel their hardness, their rugged textures against my teeth and the thickness of the tissue filling my worshipping mouth. “Yeah, you bite these guns, boy. Soon they will be so freaking huge that you’ll be hugging them with your arms open wide!” Uncle Steve teased me as he massaged my butt firmly, indulging himself in the passion of our moment. Up to that day, I had never actually imagined Uncle Steve in the sack, but as I felt his gloved cock pushing through my sphincter with masterful skills, I realized right then he was a smooth, experienced top because he let me bask in the bliss while he took care of every detail. “Oh, Uncle Steeeeeeeeve.” I groaned lustfully as he pushed slowly, yet increasingly deeper into my tight hole, making the pain on my ring turn into a warm pleasing sensation, rubbing closer to my prostate. “Oh, damn boy…being inside you for the first time. Feels cozy and tight, but we need to stretch you a whole lot more because I’m only gonna grow bigger like the SMM you triggered inside me.” He said while kissing my back and slowly pumping his cock inside my butt, which made us both hiss and moan. “Well, you’re already so big; soon we’ll have to buy you those ultra large condoms…” I chuckled, rolling my eyes because of the incredible pleasure he gave me with each pump of his cock inside me. “Hehe…maybe not, I believe we won’t need those for much longer. Soon, I’ll be immune to all diseases and have impervious health! Always bigger, always stronger and better, much better than any youngling you’ll ever met. In fact…the first real men of your life, boy…” Uncle Steve grunted as he retrieved his cock for a single moment, only to instantly reclaim my ass with his aching hard spear in a long continuous thrust that made me scream as I came for the second time. “You’re such a hot screamer…I love making you cum just to see you turning into this wild little muscle whore inside the uptight brainiac shrink.” He hugged me tight as he continued to fuck me harder and harder, feeling the tightness of my butt around his cock, while I just produced guttural sounds of ecstasy. “Damn…I feel hornier than ever!” Uncle Steve continued to fuck me harder and harder, pounding my butt with increasing speed and rhythm, loud sounds of his hard muscular body hitting against mine. At some point, I just went quiet, already engulfed by yet another cloud of intense pleasure, unable to focus in anything rather than enjoying my body totally dominated by such powerful top. However, Uncle Steve felt his sex drive increasing as he continued to pound me. He actually stood up and carried my weight, hoisting my legs and supporting my weight as he bounced my body against his hardening cock. In the heat of that moment, we exchanged looks, I was so happy, panting and groaning louder, and Uncle Steve seemed so fulfilled, throwing his head back and pounding inside me even harder, like he would never stop. In fact, at some point, we were both shocked and excited – Uncle Steve held me for over 30 minutes, fucking my chute with an incredible tempo, and he never felt tired at all, his abdominal muscles crunching and flexing. He just found renewed strength and continued exploring that living fantasy while my own body join orgasm after orgasm, I was pretty much exhausted, but as my powerhouse top continued fucking me, all I could was holding onto his muscular neck and hold on before entering into another unexplainable orgasm routine. His sweat and my cum pouring from our bodies, making us both hornier and more connected than ever. Uncle Steve kissed my forehead and held me steady for a second. “We should stop now, you’re a mess, boy.” He casually commented still thusting his cock inside me. “D-did you come?” I asked still pacing. He waved his head with a grin. “I never felt this would actually happen this way. I thought he was bullshitting me.” “Huh?” “Bruce told me that when Brad triggered him, they fucked like maniacs, Brad came over and over, while he continued to pound his ass getting harder and stronger, and he took forever to cum, the harder he fucked his boy, the longer the could fuck him.” “Uncle Steve…” “Yeah boy?” “You’re still fucking me…” “Yeah, and I can keep going…I was just worried about you.” “Please don’t…if that is what I need to trigger you…please go all the way!” “Are you sure?” “Fuck me…fuck me until you can’t hold back and just explode inside me!” I threw my head back and helped him to fuck me harder. Uncle Steve needed no further encouragement. He did just as told and fucked me until he is orgasm finally happened. Nearly three hours later. I shit you not; it took him almost three whole hours of non-stop pounding action to reach orgasm, not that he didn’t enjoy the path, he was always hard and filling the condom with his own pre. In fact, we used over a case of condoms – I simply held onto his neck and he supported my weight while setting another glove down his ever hard cock and reinserted it into my warm hole. “This is not human…” I whispered as he got ready for what would be his final round. “I feel more than human already boy…” He said as he got back inside me and this time he just kissed me hard and resumed his epic upstanding fucking, lifting my body in midair. At that point, I had lost count of my orgasms; the bliss overcame my body without ejaculation since my balls were dry long ago. “Thank you boy…You’ve made me the happiest man on Earth! I’m your master now! Feel my power!” Uncle Steve’s deep voice was suddenly so powerful and thunderous that all the windows of the house shattered as he finally came inside me! He held my butt and plunged so deeply inside me that I felt he melted his cock with my hole. The strength of his ejaculation felt like someone turned a fire hose attached to my bowels, my whole body shook constantly as he shook me gently, groaning and hissing, thrusting even deeper as he tried to relax, but the way his muscles flexed at each passing second he was feeling the strongest pleasure possible. It actually took him over 15 minutes to stop shaking and groaning, each time he breathed it seemed that he was going a little further into his orgasm frenzy, but he never eased his grip on my body, seeming to support my weight with increasing easiness. Finally, he gently laid on his back and relaxed a bit. “John…you realized what just happened to us huh?” “T-t-t-ttriggering?” I said pacing, still not able to feel my own butt with his massive cock impaled inside me. “Triggering…” He said as he kissed my forehead. “You’re still so hard inside me…” “I feel I’ll never go soft again…” He chuckled, gently lifting me from his body and holding my weight as he finally unplugged from my butt. We both moaned and relaxed, the passion still covered our bodies with all its juices and emotions, our hearts pounding inside our chests. Kisses and hugs shared with utmost honesty. “I feel like I was hit by a truck…” “Well, I am sure that I will soon be even bigger than a truck! But you should rest now…” He said putting me on the side and gently slapping my butt before he astoundingly jumped out of the bed. “Where are you going?” I asked realizing my body completely drained while Uncle Steve looked completely refreshed. “First I’ll weigh myself to check how much bigger I’ve got!” “What? Uncle Steve…” I called him but he just held his finger and went up on the scale which was conveniently right at his side. “305 pounds…yeah 75 pounds of hard muscle in just a few hours!” He flexed his muscles, which were so massive. I finally noticed that my senses were not playing tricks on me, Uncle Steve was indeed much, thicker and powerful. He had been growing all the time he was fucking me! “Uncle Steve, you’re enormous! I was not hallucinating at all!” “Of course I was growing, boy. I was actually wondering when you would come around, Johnny.” He said in a natural tone. I was indeed in shock and excitement, but a smile came onto my face. “What will you do now?” It was all I could ask while my head conjured thousands of possible consequences over the fact my 68 year old Uncle now was a massively muscular beast. I’m starving, I’ll have my post-triggering food and then use this extra energy to work out and induce further growth…” Uncle Steve said casually. “What? You just fucked me for three hours and…you’re simply gonna grab a bite and go lift weights? How is that even possible?” It was then I realized Uncle Steve knew much more SMM’s than I imagined. “It’s okay, boy…Triggering is supposed to do that. I’ll never feel tired or weak again, and my muscles now are growing bigger each passing second, they’re triggered after all!” He finally said. “Please, Uncle Steve, take me with you…I want to help you.” I asked, feeling so fucking tired and exhausted, my whole body filled with cramps. “You already did more than enough, my boy. My triggering lasted twice as long as Bruce’s, but let’s keep that just between us ok?” He jumped back in bed, his increased weight nearly sending me against the wall. “Uncle Steve…what is exactly going to happen to you now?” I muttered the courage to ask. “Growth…and much more! You’ve seen those SMM’s, I’ll soon overcome them! They were lucky to be the first ones, but they weren’t prepared for their change like I did. Been in my greatest form, made sure I could fuck you for a long time without only to make the testosterone levels in my organism reach their apex.” “So, you knew it would happen with me…how could you be so sure?” “Because Brad told me so, he said you would be my trigger and I got ready for you. He also told me something else…something that made me trust him completely. “And what was that?” “He told me that I’ll overgrow even Bruce!” He told me so excitedly, kissing my lips with such passion and strength that I felt my own brain blacking out. “Uncle Steve…” “Relax, Johnny… I need to take care of my growth now. When you wake up I’ll be even bigger already, but don’t worry, you ‘ll feel better in a few hours. Just sleep tight now. Your muscle daddy is here.” My eyes felt so heavy, that I could no longer keep them opened. I slept like a log. To be continued.

"I think I took more than fifteen pounds," he said, taking in my physique. I joined him in taking an inventory of my body. Without a mirror, I couldn't tell entirely how much I had changed, but it didn't look too bad. Everything was smaller, for sure, less pumped than it had been. I'd started out as an incontrovertibly muscular guy, and now I was more athletic in build, like a wrestler or a big swimmer. A couple of minutes of contact had set me back months in the gym. "Yeah," I said. "You know me, sometimes I take things too far," he said. That was for sure. And that should have bothered me, but it didn't. The only things occupying my mind right then were how incredibly horny I was, and how amazing Kyle looked. His nonexistent body fat highlighted every inch, every pound of his purloined gains. His abs contorted with every shallow breath he took. Veins tangled down his still-slender arms, blue vines over the hard, tight muscle that now graced his limbs. I reached out and grabbed his biceps. He flexed his arm involuntarily. Damn, it was like granite. Still touching him despite the numbing tingle that started spreading up my arm, I copped a feel of my own gun. It was still way bigger than Kyle's, but not quite as defined. "Mike. Your muscles," he protested. "Don't worry. They'll grow back," I found myself saying, even as a part of me rebelled at taking the situation so calmly. I'd worked hard for those gains! "Stop, man. I--" Kyle tried to tug away from me. I was still stronger. I held him in place, but the swaying motion of his body freed his erect cock from his boxers. It poked out the hole in the front, looking big, red, and angry. Like I mentioned, his dick had always been pretty impressive. Less than an inch smaller than mine, and I was a big boy. It had never looked this large before. "Wait a second," I said, finally letting go of his arm. The brief contact had given him another jolt of size, sending him past a runner's build and on his way to looking like a swimmer. His shoulders actually had some breadth to them now, his chest a bit of roundness. I wasn't really paying attention to his muscles, though, because his cock had my full attention. Curious, almost fearful of what I might find, I hauled my own meaty dick out of my shorts. It drooled a bit of precum. I was as boned as I'd ever been, but it felt a little less impressive in my hands. That had to be because I felt a bit unmanned by how good Kyle's looked, I rationalized. His wasn't as big as mine, was it? Ignoring his protestations, I pressed our cocks together. The tingle came back, the strongest I'd felt yet. For all his murmured 'no's and 'stop's, Kyle didn't protest as I compared our dicks. He was almost as long as I was. Mine was thicker, but the decent length advantage I thought I possessed had evaporated. I could barely tell mine was longer. His dick surged in my hand. It was just a quick pulse, almost like he'd flexed it. His tool stretched wider and longer, but when it unflexed, it retained its new size. Now we were dead even. As I held it there, trying to confirm the transformation, it surged again. The head pushed forward, swelled wider. Its engorged tip pressed painfully into the meat of my groin. Just like that, Kyle's dick was clearly a little longer than mine now. "Dude, your dick," I said, looking up at him. And that's when I got my next surprise. We were eye to eye. I'd been a good inch taller than Kyle for as long as I could remember. Neither of us were wearing shoes, but we were unquestionably the same height now. "Please, you've got to stop," he said. There was no force in the plea. "Fuck, man, you're changing. You're getting so hot," I said. His cock throbbed. It was huge and angry. I reached out to stroke the shaft, fending off the voice of warning in my head. My fingers could barely touch around the shaft, and as that draining tingle returned, they started being forced apart by its growth. Kyle moaned under my ministrations. His voice sounded deeper, sexier. He brought his arm up in a solid flex and let his other hand roam the new-minted muscle sprouting there. The biceps was definitely bigger than a goose's egg now, on its way toward becoming a solid orb of power. The thought of his purloined strength increasing drove me into a desperate haze. I fell to my knees, took his cock in my mouth, and began to suck the salty precum away. "Oh, Mike," said Kyle. The last of his resistance crumbled. I could tell you the exact instant it happened. His protests cut off. He ceased trying to push me away. Instead, an enlarging hand pressed against the back of my head, massaging my scalp as it forced me down harder on the lengthening pole. I wheezed as its hot flesh invaded my throat. But Kyle had stopped caring. "Yeah, take it." His tenor voice had taken on a baritone rumble. I gazed up at him. His abs were in the process of reshaping themselves into a defined set of six cobbled bricks. They settled, tightened, and the grooves between them began to deepen into valleys. Above the corrugated landscape of his abdomen, two sizable pecs thrust forward, filling with striated new mass by the second. My dick throbbed uncontrollably, and I reached down to jerk it. My cock was as hard as I could imagine it being, but it barely filled my hand any more. Usually it could fit both. That was when I knew things had gone way out of control. I struggled against his grip, managed to pull off of his dick. It seemed endless. I finally got it out of my mouth, and it stared me eye to eye, thick as one of my diminished wrists and nine inches long at least. Kyle, lost to his lust, pivoted his hips and slapped me across the cheek with the massive tool. "Come on, Mike. Suck it. Get me off," he said. "Kyle, wait," I said. I struggled to my feet, shaking off his treacherous touch. God, he had grown. Kyle was bigger and longer everywhere. His limbs had stretched out. His bright green eyes were now several inches above mine. Rounded deltoids capped his shoulders, broadening his body so that I could no longer see to either side of him. Crap. How much had I given him? I felt small and weak. "What?" he panted. His hands kept snatching at my body, ignoring my attempts to rebuff his touch. "Come on, suck me." I pushed his hand away from one of my pecs. The muscle was barely there. "We have to stop, dude. Look at how small I am now! And you, you're almost six feet!" He looked, but he wasn't seeing me. I was sure he only saw the strength I still had to offer, the muscle he could still take. "Gotta get bigger. Just a little more." His arms wrapped me in an embrace, pulled me closer. The tingling erupted between us, so strong that it was almost paralyzing. His flesh scraped against mine as the transfer accelerated. The arms around me pumped and firmed. "No more," I said. My voice was shrill with panic. More than that, it was higher in pitch. It broke like a teenager's. He ground his adamantine muscles against my inferior ones. "Should've... unh. Should've listened to me before," he said, his voice not cruel, just not caring. His desire was too great. I struggled in earnest. My thrashing almost got me free, but then Kyle redoubled his grip. The next time I had enough energy to fight him, he fended off my struggles with ease. He was a full head taller than I was, and the transfer did not show any signs of stopping. He could have held me there and drained me down to nothing. But he had other ideas. Warning sirens blared in my brain the moment I felt him spinning me around. He bent me over. His massive dick, now almost a foot long, pressed against my back. He pushed me forward. The head prodded my butt, trying to find entry. "You've still got a hot ass," he slurred, drunk on his own power. "Kyle, no, don't!" I cried. The tip of his cock pressed against my hole. My cry turned into a shriek as it started pushing past my defenses. I hadn't bottomed for Kyle in a long time, and the last time, his dick had been about half its current size. Heedless, he just kept easing in, not caring how I writhed in his grip. All the while, the transfer continued. By the time he was all the way in, I had to stand on my tiptoes. I'd never been with a guy that much taller than I was. But that wasn't a problem for Kyle. Two great hands closed on my sides and lifted. My feet left the ground. He let out a grunt of effort at supporting my weight, and a tremble went through him. But as the seconds passed, it got easier, whether because I was growing lighter or he was getting stronger. At last, he seemed to stabilize. Then he started pumping into me. No, not even that. He used me like a rag doll, pushing and tugging on my diminishing body. His cock kept growing in me the whole time, until I felt like I was being shrink-wrapped on the gargantuan pole. It swelled suddenly. I felt every ridge and bend of it as it grew. I thought it was a surge of growth, but no. He let out a bass groan that rumbled in my chest as he started to cum. A hot geyser filled me, spurt after spurt. I was cumming, too. He came more in a single shot than most guys would have in an entire night of sex. The entire way through his rollercoaster of pleasure, he held me tight in arms that felt like steel girders around me. And then it was done. The tingling faded away. Kyle was gentle as he withdrew from me. I felt impossibly empty without his dick in side of me, like I'd collapse in on myself without it there to support me. He eased me back onto my feet. I couldn't even stand on my own two legs, so he helped me to bed. He was massive. My brain could barely do the math, but he was well past six feet, ripped and huge like a competition bodybuilder. Massive, veined muscles fought for space on a frame that had been built like a stick not an hour beforehand. If he was around 6'3, that put me right around the five foot mark. No wonder he looked so massive. He sat next to me on the bed. It creaked beneath his weight. I reached out and touched his arm. He flexed involuntarily. The muscle didn't rise up. It exploded, a peak that would make Everest jealous. "Sorry," Kyle said. His voice sounded like a subwoofer. The absurdity of the massive beast I'd helped create, looking so cowed, so disappointed in himself, made me almost want to laugh. Almost. "Yeah," I said, now exploring my own tiny physique. I was muscled like a little bird. I wasn't even the 98-pound weakling. I was his little brother. "Maybe we can fix it." "Got another ten grand?" I asked. "No. You?" I shook my head weakly. "Uh uh. So. Stuck like this." "I don't think I'll be needing you to spot me any more," Kyle said. "Nope," I said. We sat there in silence. After a few moments, the bed started to rock. It took me a second to realize that Kyle's titanic new body was shaking with laughter. "It's a good thing I got two vials for that price, right?" Kyle winked at me, holding something up. It was glass and full of greyish fluid. So that was how I lost all of my size and gained it back in just over an hour. Kyle hadn't been entirely honest about the price of the stuff, either. He's never tipped me in to who his supplier is, says he likes being the big man between us, but he's still taking the stuff. That became obvious the day he showed up at my place, two inches taller than I was and better hung. I didn't ask who his donor was this time. I didn't want to know. But I've been saving up, and I'm going to find Kyle's guy. It's harder than you'd think. Not something you just post on the Craigslist personals about: "Looking for Muscle Theft Potion." Trust me, I tried. As for Kyle, he's almost at the immense size he was at on that fateful day. All that beef is a lot more fun to play with when it didn't come from you, let me tell you. And Kyle doesn't seem to want to stop. I asked him the other day how big he wanted to get, and he just gave a shrug of those awesome, boulder-sized delts of his. Maybe he'll never stop. Oh well, what can you do? He always did take things too far.

Well, it's safe to say I'm using a lot of new things in this story. Never used the italic button so much in a story. Also, have never had someone grow at this speed. Thought I'd make enough parts today to reach a real growth spurt before I take a breather. Nick is starting to be a really interesting factor for me as I normally don't have someone with so much influence hanging around in a story (not to mention such a strong personality). Don't be afraid to correct me on him as this is my first time actually attempting a character like him. Comments and feedback please. Belly Down Part 3 The competition was going rather smoothly as the team arrived at their college gym. Kenny sat at the end of his own team's line of chairs as he sat and watched those of the class below fight it out on the mat. Isaiah was doing well to keep himself on his toes, almost being pinned down but squirming out with some quick readjustment. All the team knew that, if Isaiah wanted, he could be the perfect professional wrestler if he truly wanted to build himself big enough. Problem was Isaiah loved being the smallest and yet he was so good at what he did. In almost 10 seconds flat, he had the other guy on the floor and pinned, his skinny frame failing under the pure beef on Isaiah's arms and legs. Tapping out, the other guy walked off defeated and Isaiah came towards our side with an intense look. “What's wrong?” Kenny asked him. “It took me too long to get him. I need to work harder.” Isaiah sat down with a stern expression on his face. Kenny couldn't see Isaiah loved wrestling far more than he realized. Then again, Kenny wasnt aware of how much he loved wrestling deep down either. Someone else in his head knew, though. “Calling the next weight class!” came the voice of the intercom. Kenny felt his body pump with adrenaline as he felt his fears come alive. Casey arrived in time to wrap his hands around Kenny's thin shoulders and then his head gear. “You got it, Kenny. Put it all on the mat” he said own to him, his eyes focused on only Kenny. Kenny felt himself squirm in Casey's grasp before shaking himself out of it. He couldn't afford to grow a boner in the fabric of his tight singlet. Speaking of which, it was suddenly starting to chaff as he escaped his friend's grasp. “Right.” he said. Kenny saw the other guy he was up against and felt like he was going to cry. He was 142 pounds of lean muscle. Veins were running down his arms like spider webs. His muscles werent big but they were definitely below 5% body fat. Kenny was practically wetting himself before the referee even blew the whistle. Circling in the same direction as his opponent, Kenny ran scared when he threw a hand out and nearly got him by the neck. Kenny felt every thought of fear crossed his mind. I can't do this, he thought. I can't defeat a guy who's that strong looking. Kenny was proven to be up against someone strong, not just strong looking, as he was grabbed and slowly pulled into the opponent's grasp. He's too strong. I can't do it. I'm not big enough. I'm not strong enough. I can't win. Before long, Kenny was pinned on the ground in a rough grab and losing air faster than a balloon with a hole. That's one more loss on the chalk bored. Great job, Kenny. Not like you'd win against a lean ball of muscle like this when you got to this class with nothing but fat. Kenny was about to tap out when he heard Nick's voice. And that's where you're wrong. How could I make you any stronger with fat? At that, Kenny felt burning that he thought was the air leaving his brain. I'm not strong enough for this, I can't be. And you're wrong again. See how this works? Assumptions, assumptions. All you have to do is want to more. You want more strength, take it! You want more size, take it. I'm supposed to be in this box you call a head. How about you do yourself a favor and think outside of it. Kenny heard the words ring in his head. Time seemed to slow as he came to a realization. I fucking want to win. Oh really? Then win. Stop making fucking excuses. At that, Kenny felt his body tense. The guy wrapped around him, pinning in down, was glad to have gotten such an easy target to go up against. He'd lost the last match and couldn't afford to let himself get down in the dumps because of some loss. When he saw Kenny, he knew he'd win. There was nothing stopping him from taking a free win. Nothing except he could feel something wrong in his hold. He struggled hard to hold himself in place but he knew something was wrong. The guy he was holding was really fighting his grip now. His arms were tensed as he fought with the little guy's grip on his tensed arm. His arm was tightly fastened around Kenny's neck but, little by little, he was losing the fight and Kenny's face was becoming a lot less red and sweaty as he slowly pulled off his arm. Kenny had a wicked smile as he pulled with more and more strength on the guy he was up against. Everything was burning and..... it all felt so good. With a quick roll, Kenny was back on his feet again. Kenny didn't know what came over him but he felt every muscle tighten in his body, including his 2 inch cock in his singlet, the short stub suddenly chubbing to its hard 4 inches. Of course, as the two circled around each other, the opponent Kenny was up against felt his eyes hurt as the atmosphere around the boy he was up against got wavy and hard to see. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought the guy was a little bigger than he remembered. Also, he looked down and saw that his cock was hard and starting to go down his leg. He was used to seeing it as, in the heat of wrestling, its average for the blood to pump a bunch and cause a spontaneous boner. What he wasn't used to seeing was watching it grow hard to a measly 4 inches and then seem to slowly lengthen. The guy thought he was seeing things at first but, as he continued, he was sure. This kid wasn't in his weight class anymore. Before he knew, Kenny had made a grab for and, though he fought, the opponent was on his back and struggling against a wave of new strength he didnt expect from a previously little guy. The opposing teams and their coaches were cheering as Kenny turned the tables unexpectedly. He struggled but he could hear what sounded like a grumble as the kid held his grip over him and locked him. He was trapped like a bird in an iron cage. Reluctantly, the opponent tapped his hand against the mat with his free arm. He held his head in shame as he returned to his team with another defeat. He couldn't figure out what happened but he remembered the last thing he saw. That red headed little guy who suddenly wasnt so little...... with red eyes. Kenny returned to his team and looked across their shocked faces. Even Hans's big mug was gaping open at the sight of Kenny and his win. Casey had a big arm on Kenny's shoulders and a big, shit eating grin on his face. “Fuck yeah! Told you you'd kill it!” he said as he threw his other arm tightly around Kenny and pulled him in for a big hug. Kenny felt himself melt in Casey's grasp as he felt the big muscles wrap around him and give a new kind of warmth to his cold, sweaty body. Kenny pulled on a weak smile as he felt the on his face. “ You know we're going to fucking celebrate, right?” Casey said as he released Kenny. He stealthily looked down and smiled as he caught sight of his roommate's crotch and smiled. Kenny's cock was hard and very noticeable at its 6 inches. Casey quickly looked back int Kenny's eyes. He knew Kenny wasn't ready to admit he liked Casey. That was fine for him though Kenny didn't know it. Kenny himself couldn't figure out what was up with himself. He felt the new power coursing through his body and deeply felt happy about it and yet he knew where the source was. As long as I'm with you, you'll never be “weak” or “pathetic” again, came the echo of a voice within him. “ Slow down, killer! You're going to get sick eating that fast!” Casey said as he patted Kenny's back. Kenny was having trouble stopping himself from eating as he chowed down another large double cheese burger topped with fries on the patty. Kenny didn't know why but his stomach had been gurgling all the way to the fast food joint as he rode in Casey's car. Kenny stopped scarfing down fries to look up embarrassed as he looked at Casey. He couldn't figure out why Casey was looking at him with such a happy look on his face. Casey's were so beautiful as they looked into Kenny's. Kenny was redder than a tomato as he realized he'd just scarfed down 3 double cheese burgers like an animal in front of his roommate like a glutton and sat up straight. “Sorry, I'm just so fucking hungry. I don't know what's come over me.” “I see what you mean, man. I don't know what it was but, somewhere in that match, you were just changed and you were coming at him like a fucking demon!” Kenny cringed at the sound of the word demon. Oh please, you can't react to every time someone throws that word at you, came Nick's voice. I don't start shaking in boots every time someone shouts 'Jesus Christ' or 'God dammit'. Kenny ignored the voice as he looked down at his food. He still had 2 more burgers to finish and the one he was eating was just about destroyed. Casey saw the look in Kenny's eyes and smiled. “Don't be so shy, champ. A winning man needs lots of food if he's gonna keep winning, right?” he said as he lifted a handful of fries and started eating. He couldn't loose to his roommate in such a competition as eating. Kenny only smiled as he looked at his food again. “Hey........ can we go to the gym? I really need to see myself in profile” he felt brave enough to say. Casey looked shocked at what he just heard but nodded his head. “Uh, sure, man. We can work out a little too if you want” he joked. “That'd be great, man” Kenny said. Casey stopped eating and looked at Kenny. What part of him had started calling him 'man'. That wasn't something Kenny would say. “155.” Kenny's jaw dropped as he heard that number. Casey wasn't far off as he looked at the number at disbelief. “ Well that's impossible. We just weighed you yesterday. You're 134. That's 20 pounds....” Casey looked at Kenny and began to ponder that as he looked him over. Kenny didn't look quite the same in his uniform now. The singlet he'd worn under his clothes at the fast food restaurant was a lot tighter than he remembered as he looked him over. His arms were starting to look kind of rounded now that Casey looked at them. His shoulders and traps were a little bit more full than they were before. As he looked further downward, Casey could see that a bit muscle was showing in his friend's chest area. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought they were pecs. As he looked further down, he saw that the muscle in the waist, the singlet was struggling against Kenny's 6 pack. What was most noticeable was Kenny's lower body. Casey was shocked at the new definition in Kenny's legs. They were actually fighting against the singlet with a real push, making the flesh remain constantly flexed against the constraints of the leg holes. Casey had looked at the waist of his friend's body and gasped as he saw something he didn't remember in Kenny's crotch. A cock about 4 inches in length was starting to grow and elongate down Kenny's leg. He'd accidentally caught Kenny naked in their dorm and knew without a doubt Kenny wasn't all that big if not ridiculously small. That was no longer the case as Casey saw Kenny's cock bounce and push through the fabric of the singlet leg. Before long, Kenny was sporting a thick 7 incher in his crotch now. One that was starting to form a wet spot at the angry tip. Casey licked his lips before shaking his head clear and looking back up at Kenny. “ Scale must be fucking broken.” Kenny looked up with his big blue eyes at Casey. “Yeah, definitely.” Casey put his big hand on Kenny's shoulder. It was kind of hard now. “ Ready for a workout, kid?” he asked Kenny face to face. That was when he realized it. Kenny was taller than he remembered. He looked down and realized he'd never been so close to Kenny standing on the scale. Kenny took the invitation to work out as permission to leave the scale. “Sure, Casey” he said up to him. Casey took the response but he still looked shocked. Casey remembered for sure. He was 6'1. Kenny was 5'6. He remembered being able to look at the top of his head. Now, he had to stand completely straight to see the top of his hair. Must be my imagination, he thought as he began the walk to the other part of the gym. He wasn't aware of what was growing inside Kenny. And per usual, neither did Kenny. To Be Continued.

Part three of our tale wherein wider concerns come to light. Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2012 - 2014 by [email protected] Growing Too Big: Part 1 Growing Too Big: Part 2 Growing Too Big: Part 4 Growing Too Big Part 3 The ringing of the phone woke him. Not his cell which he had turned off a couple days previously but his landline which he never used. He was too asleep to consider ignoring it, to think about all the reasons he shouldn’t answer, and fumbled around before finally grabbing the handset and putting it to his ear. “Yeah, hello,” he rumbled. “Uh, hello. Dan?” It took a moment for him to recognize the tinny voice in his ear. “Yeah, that’s me. Who’s - Phillip?” “Yeah. Damn, you’re still asleep? I didn’t think I’d catch you. Why aren’t you at work?” “Vacation, I took some vacation.” He sat up, the bed creaking under his weight. Looking down almost all he could see was the rounded mass of his smooth pecs, the valley between them showcasing the shaft of his dick before it disappeared under the covers. “I thought you were going home in a couple weeks.” “I just had a change of plans, that’s all. Sorry, Phil, I’m still half asleep.” “OK. Well I was worried. You didn’t return any of my calls, not even at work, so I was afraid something happened.” Dan couldn’t help snorting at that. Yeah, you could say something happened. Well gee, Phil, I kinda got dosed with something at the lab and turned into this gay muscle fantasy. I’d tell ya to come over to talk about it except I’d prolly end up fucking you and that would just add to the problem. “Nah, nothing happened,” Dan said instead. “Just gonna take it easy for a few days. I’ll probably go back to Texas in the fall or something.” There was a long pause before Phillip spoke again. “Hey, Danny, this isn’t because, ya know, because you’ve been doing anything…” “God no, I’m not using. I can’t change my vacation without it being drug related?” “Of course you can, I just wondered. I’m sorry, Danny, that was stupid.” “Nah, don’t worry about it, just be cool. Everything’s OK. I’ll catch you later.” “Later man.” He wanted to be mad at Phillip for waking him in the first place and for even suggesting that he’d fallen off the wagon but after a few seconds abandoned the attempt. If there was anyone who stood by him when he was drugged out mess it was Phillip. His concern now was annoying but only because Dan didn’t know how he was going to handle any of the issues that he was starting to face, not least of which was his inability to prevent himself from packing on yet more muscle. Oh wait, he could prevent it by never having sex again for as long as he lived. Problem solved. Fuck. A little later he stood frowning in front of his open refrigerator. It was barer than it had been in a long time. Even the pickles and that old bottle of black olives were gone. Almost everything that was edible had been consumed over the last few days. The cupboards were no better. When his parents last visited his mom left some Melba Toast behind but now that was gone and he hated Melba Toast. Still, the dull ache in his stomach had to be appeased but given his latest growth spurt he was leery about being seen in public. He wasn’t even sure what clothes he could wear. Having food delivered seemed like the best option. It was too early in the morning for Chinese and he really wasn’t in the mood for takeout. Instead he went on his computer and ordered from an online grocery store. If he went a little crazy with the amount of food ordered that was understandable – he’d read you weren’t supposed to food shop when you were hungry. For an extra fee the store promised delivery within a few hours. He considered putting something in the notes section about requiring a female delivery person but after a moment’s thought decided that would probably be misconstrued. A couple hours later he watched through a slit in the blinds as the delivery truck pulled up in front of his house. It was just after lunchtime for most people and his suburban street wasn’t very crowded. The man that came around the back of the truck and started unloading cardboard boxes looked average enough, but he had a baseball cap pulled down low and a brown jacket to match his brown work pants so it was hard to tell. As he pushed a hand truck up the walk towards the front door Dan watched closely, one hand lazily rubbing his empty stomach. Better make this handoff short and sweet. He had already put on another pair of once-bulky workout shorts which were not very bulky at the moment. He’s also found a bathrobe in the back of his closet with Sunriver stenciled on the front. It was a souvenir from a mountain vacation last winter. It covered everything but the valley at the very top of his pecs so he figured it would do. When he opened the door the first thing he noticed was the food. The uppermost of the three boxes stacked on the hand truck was open and displayed all the meat and carbs his body was craving. It was only after staring at this for a few seconds that he looked up to the delivery man. The name tag on his jacket read “Luis”. The pulled down baseball cap was trying to cover a shock of thick black hair that spilled over his forehead and over one eye. As Dan watched he lifted his free hand to brush back the hair so that both his deep dark brown eyes were visible. Clear caramel skin, a strong jaw and full red lips completed the package. Dan felt a sinking feeling in his gut as he realized how beautiful the man was. Luis, however, was all business. “Mr. Shoemaker? Here’s your FoodOnline delivery. I just need your signature right here if you could.” He signed and handed back Luis’ clipboard. “You want me to bring it in or leave it on the porch?” “Sure, bring it in.” He stepped back and Luis walked by, pausing for a moment in the foyer and then heading off when he spotted the kitchen down the hall. Dan took a deep breath and followed trying unsuccessfully to keep his eyes from tracking the back and forth movement of the man’s ass. Luis took the boxes off of the hand truck, placing them next to each other on the floor in front of the sink. As he bent down Dan watched the brown polyester pants stretch tight over his thighs and wondered if his legs were smooth or hairy. For a moment the image of Vet’s outstretched legs came to mind and he had to shake his head to dispel it. “Do you want to run through the order list and make sure we got everything?” Luis asked. “Nah, that’s ok. I’m sure it’s fine.” Dan reached for his wallet on the kitchen counter and took out some money for a tip. When he handed it over he could feel the smooth skin of Luis’ palm before they both pulled back their hands. Luis gave him a puzzled look then thanked him and reached for his hand truck. Dan followed him to the front door and closed it behind him. He watched through the peephole as the delivery guy closed up the truck, climbed in and drove away. It wasn’t until the truck had disappeared from view that he realized he was holding his breath. That evening he lay on the couch thinking about his dilemma. His stomach was full now and had been since his binge after the food delivery. He thought his hunger would return with a vengeance as the afternoon wore on but it had not. Maybe it had something to do with his lack of growth opportunities today in which case his huge appetite earlier was a holdover from what had occurred with Vet the evening before. The physics of all this muscle expansion seemed a little off but he didn’t really have the facilities or the equipment to test things. Besides, he was ignoring his bigger problem of, well, getting bigger. If sex was the catalyst for the growth he’d experienced so far then what the hell was he going to turn into after a few more days of fucking around? It was hot thinking about it and he had the slowly hardening evidence in his shorts to prove it but fantasizing about the biggest body this side of the Incredible Hulk didn’t do much to help him figure out his next steps. At least he’d managed to control himself with the delivery man. That seemed like a good sign since so far he’d pretty much fucked everything hot that crossed his path. Still, it seemed unfair to be given such an amazing physique and then find out he’d have to choose between becoming a monk or a circus freak. The doorbell rang. He sat bolt upright, imagining the police or some sort of bio squad on his porch ready to take him in. Except they wouldn’t ring the doorbell, would they? He looked out the window but only saw an unrecognizable SUV parked at the curb. He had to go to the peephole in the door, moving on tiptoe and making the floor creak regardless, to see who was there. It was Luis without a baseball cap and dressed in a t-shirt instead of his delivery uniform. Dan debated ignoring him and pretending he wasn’t home but his hand seemed to move of his own accord to the door handle. He swung open the door and Luis stepped back on the welcome mat as if surprised. His eyes went from Dan’s face down to his body which was mostly visible now that he was only wearing the tight shorts. Luis’ mouth fell open and his eyes widened as he took in the mass and curves of the physique before him. Never before had he seen a man so hugely built. “Hey man,” he finally said when Dan didn’t offer a greeting. “I was here earlier today, delivering the groceries from FoodOnline. Remember?” “Yeah, I know. Luis, right?” “Yeah, I’m Luis. I just, um, stopped by on my way home because…” His voice trailed off, a look of confusion on his face. “I don’t really know why I stopped, to tell the truth.” He gave Dan a sheepish grin before continuing. “I uh, I’m sorry, this is weird. I should get home, my wife is waiting…” He reached out with one big hand and grabbed Luis by the shoulder, pulling him inside. Though not as large as him the delivery man was still well built with broad shoulders and thick arms filling the sleeves of his white t-shirt. His body showed the affects of physical labor and probably some gym time on the side but at 200 pounds he was small compared to Dan. Dan stepped forward forcing Luis back until the smaller man was sandwiched between the wall of the foyer and the bigger man’s massive chest. He pressed his lips into Luis’ and wrapped his big arms around the delivery man’s torso, squeezing him tight. For a moment Luis stood there stiffly, not responding, but suddenly he gave in, opening his mouth wide to accept Dan’s tongue, pressing his body in the mass of muscle that held him. They made out by the front door, Dan’s hands massaging Luis’ back and ass while the smaller man simply tried to get his arms around the other’s huge torso. When Dan found that Luis’ jeans were too tight to slip his hand down to his bare crack he simply forced his way in, splitting the waistband in the process. He pressed a finger into the smooth moistness of Luis’ hole causing the deliveryman to go up on his toes, gasping for air. “You like that? You like that, baby?” Dan asked wrapping one arm around Luis’ waist and picking him up off the floor. He carried him down the hallway to his bedroom, Luis’ work boots wedged into the small of his back. He dropped him onto the bed and then pulled off those boots followed by the torn jeans. Luis looked up at him with both fear and lust written large across his face. “Man, I’ve never,” he gasped, “I don’t do this, never with a guy.” “I don’t give a fuck,” Dan rumbled and fell on top of him causing the bed to creak loudly. He pulled Luis’ shirt up over his head and bent down to suck on one of the large brown nipples that were exposed. Luis moaned and thrashed beneath him, half-heartedly pushing on his shoulders at first but then grabbing at the thickness of his deltoids and traps. For a fleeting moment a voice in Dan’s head tried to shout a warning, knowing what would come of all this, but it was drowned out by the roaring in his ears, the need to hold down this man with the strength of his arms, kick open his legs and take possession of him. This is why he had grown so big and so strong. This is what he was meant to do, not cower in the dark afraid that his clothes wouldn’t fit in the morning. Fuck clothes, he’d go around naked if had to and let anyone try and stop him. Within seconds their remaining clothes were tossed aside as they continued to grapple on the bed, Luis’ legs clamped around Dan’s waist with the bigger man’s dick wedging apart the globes of his smooth ass. Luis would try to resist from time to time as if suddenly remembering that this wasn’t the kind of thing he did but just as quickly he’d lose it again, doing all he could to pull Dan closer, to draw his tongue deeper into his mouth. The weight and strength of the big man was like an aphrodisiac, making him feel more charged and sexual than any woman had made him feel in the past. When Dan reared back and lifted Luis’ legs up and apart he could only pant as he own achingly hard dick came into view, suspended over his face. Then Dan’s mouth was on his ass, his teeth grinding against the sensitive flesh, his tongue pushing into his tight virgin hole. Luis reached up and latched both hands around the back of Dan’s head, pulling his face even more tightly into his crack, amazed that something so crazy could feel so good. Despite his grip Luis felt Dan’s head come up and he opened his eyes to see the bigger man staring down at him. The almost feral look he saw on the huge man’s face should have struck fear into the new bottom but it only made his blood boil even more. Dan shook his hands off and leaned back so his dick could once more home in on his crack but this time with his big head centered on the wet, pulsating hole. “Tell me to fuck you,” Dan growled as he teased Luis’ ass with his dick. “Fuck me,” Luis answered in a high, strained voice. “Fuck me you fuckin’ bastard.” And Dan did. He hunched forward, driving his dick into the wet confines of Luis’ ass making them both howl out loud. The big man’s huge chest came down on Luis pushing him down into the mattress and forcing the air out of his lungs. Their mouths connected as Dan’s arms closed around Luis’ torso like a vise, pinning the smaller man’s arms to his side. Luis could only move his hands which grabbed onto Dan’s corded obliques, doing what he could to pull him in harder and deeper. Outside the evening darkened into night. Luis’ car remained parked out front when the sun rose Monday morning. ----- Mark Prentiss scowled at the older woman across the desk but to little effect. She simply stared back with a slightly bored expression on her face. He might have tried using the sexy, smoldering look that got him so much pussy but his instincts told him that this woman wouldn’t fall for his considerable physical charms which was why he was playing annoyed young executive. It irritated him that she didn’t seem to care one way or the other. Dr. Martha Leeway had been a research scientist with the company since before he went to high school and obviously cared little for the opinions and concerns of some director of product development. He was fairly sure he hated her but was completely sure he needed her if what she was saying was true. At least he could silently enjoy the fact that she was ugly. “But how can you be positive we’ve been compromised?” he asked. “There wasn’t anything in last week’s security report or the HazMat log. I’ve seen them.” “If we’d been compromised by an external organization Security would have already locked down this site,” Dr. Leeway said not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice. “It appears the breach was internal and accidental. With Dr. Foy out of the picture and me as chief researcher on the project I have some discretion as to how the contamination is categorized. I’ve decided it’s only a Level 1 breach which means it will not appear on the site wide HazMat or Bio Remediation logs. At least not for now.” It was much better than Mark could have hoped for and that made him suspicious. He had a lot riding on the testing of Dr. Huran Foy’s medical compound. If it was as successful as initial reports indicated then there were at least four major drugs that could be moved into applied development and testing. That sort of production line would cement his standing in the product division and almost guarantee that he’d be promoted to VP of Product Development when Wonsley retired next year. Foy’s disappearance a month ago had almost thrown everything off track but Leeway had taken over on the research side and shepherded the compound through initial testing. In a sense they were partners since both Product and Research needed each other for the successful transition to development, full testing and eventual government approval but it was a partnership born of necessity, not desire. And it did little to explain why Dr. Leeway, a 27 year veteran of the firm, was so willing to sidestep contamination protocols that would get her canned if her actions were discovered. Mark tried to believe she was saving both their butts simply because she wanted to be the hero after Foy’s disappearance but it all seemed a little too pat. His spider sense was tingling and he wasn’t sure why. God, this was all too much to deal with on a Monday morning. “So then we have no problem and everything is on schedule. At least I assume that’s what you’re telling me.” Dr. Leeway paused a moment before saying, “Not quite.” Here it comes he thought to himself. “We’ve tamped down any suspicions about the breach and we’ve sterilized the lab,” she continued. “We’ve tested almost everyone who was in the area and might have come in contact with the compound and they’re all clean. There are two exceptions, however.” “Two people have been contaminated? That doesn’t sound good.” “No, two people are question marks. If we had verified human contamination this would already be out of both of our hands.” “Christ Leeway, just tell me what the fucking problem is.” He was tired of playing word games with this bitch. Her upper lip curled but she remained as calm as ever. “Two people who were in the lab during the window of possible contagion have not been available for testing. One’s a lab technician who’s been on vacation since the middle of last week. The other is a security guard who was admitted to the hospital on Friday.” “Hospital?” “Yes,” she answered with a tight smile. “We’re told he had a heart attack. He’s sixty-four so it’s possible it’s just a coincidence.” “God, it better be. I suppose you want me to check these two out.” “You suppose correctly.” She pulled an envelope from the pocket of her lab coat, opened it and let a slip of paper slide out onto the desk. He glanced at it and saw two names written in clean block letters. He was willing to bet this was not her normal handwriting. “This is all you’ve got?” “You’re a smart man, Mr. Prentiss,” Leeway said rising from her chair. “I’m sure you can find whatever information you need. I’m told you have access to numerous company files. “ His eyes narrowed as he watched her turn and walk from his office. She was right; he had management level access to the Human Resources file server which was a huge breach of company security. It had taken money and a little blackmail to achieve but the information such access provided was invaluable. The fact that she knew about it made him more suspicious than ever. He’d have to figure out how to fuck over Leeway some other time. Right now he needed to check out the two names he’d been given. Shoemaker and Dalton. Neither rang a bell so he began some HR research.

Here's chapter 3. Tomorrow is release day for Berkeley Daze #4: The Summer of Our Disconnect. U.M. Lassiter It was Hamish Conner’s nature to be nervous. All of his life, he felt like he was on the outside looking in, and that suited him just fine. Avoiding human interaction meant avoiding bullies, avoiding ridicule, avoiding risk. Whatever relationships he had with other human beings was either accidental or completely unavoidable. The relationship Ham had with his roommate Paul was closer than any outside of his own family, which really wasn’t saying much. Still, when you’re required to share a dorm room with another individual, a certain intimacy simply can’t be avoided. At least Paul had been friendly and kind, but he was most definitely the only one. Without exception, every other time he’d ever shared anything personal with anyone, he’d come to regret it. When he was nine, he made the mistake of admitting to a classmate that he’d like to be a dancer when he grew up. Even at that young age, he was widely considered effeminate, and the news traveled through the school at lightning speed, and the resulting ridicule was merciless. The lesson Ham learned was to be cold and distant, and never share anything. When he finally admitted to himself that he was gay, it felt like it was the final blow and ultimately sealed the transformation of his soul to a cold, hard, lifeless piece of stone. Still, he’d had crushes before; plenty of them. But in all those instances, he recognized them for what they were– purely biological responses to erotic stimuli. He went home and satisfied those responses in private and told himself that his needs were met. Sadly, they were. But now, something new had happened. The faintest spark of passion had manifested deep inside his otherwise lifeless soul, and it both excited and terrified him. Somewhere in the farthest recesses of his mind the tiny germ of a thought was hiding– the idea that perhaps he was capable of a small measure of happiness. Lee Prentice had ignited that tiny spark. No one had ever tried to come on to him before, and it boggled Ham’s mind. He still didn’t know why he didn’t run away in horror, considering what a flaming fag Lee was. Hard-won experience had told him to stay far, far away. Yet, Ham’s feet stayed rooted to the spot, at least for a brief, excruciating period of time. It didn’t help that Lee was damned cute. Blond, blue eyes, dimples; all on a slender, well proportioned frame. Why was this situation different? Ham wrestled with that question as he got dressed. Perhaps it was because they had something in common. It wasn’t something as simple as their sexual orientation. Ham knew the answer to that question, but he wouldn’t admit it to himself. Ham had just awakened from the most vivid dream of his life. He’d had muscle growth dreams before, and he’d certainly had lots of dreams about Paul. What really creeped him out about this one was the fact that he woke up naked, and all of his clothes were torn to shreds exactly the way he’d seen in his dream. He finished putting on a fresh set of clothes and slipped out of the dorm. Paul was due back from lacrosse practice any minute, and he didn’t want to deal with seeing him just then. It was getting cold as Ham hurried across the darkened campus, and he pulled his hoodie up over his head. He had to learn more about Professor Lofgren’s experiment. The cones and yellow caution tape had been cleared away from in front of the Science Building, and he hurried inside and down the stairs to the basement. As he scurried through the office area on his way to the lab, several heads popped up from cubicles like some bizarre prairie dog town. Once the grad students saw that it was simply a lowly underclassman, they quickly withdrew back into their private warrens. Unlike the night before, there were several people in the quantum lab that evening, and he studiously avoided all of them as he hurried down to the lower level. The area around Professor Lofgren’s apparatus seemed surprisingly tidy. There was no residue of any kind in the vicinity, and the electronic monitoring equipment seemed perfectly intact, and powered up. The stainless steel chamber seemed intact with the exception of a slight bulge around the middle. The one detail that indicated any trouble was the chamber door. The oval door was bent and hanging from a single bolt. Ham recognized immediately that the lone fastener had likely saved his life. Had all of the bolts broken when the door failed, it would have become a lethal projectile. Ham stepped forward and ran his finger along the chamber’s twisted mounting flange as he absorbed the unsettling realization. “Mr. Conner, what brings you here tonight?” Ham pulled his hand back with a startled jerk. “Uh, Professor, hello,” Ham said once he caught his breath. “I heard about your incident.” Professor Lofgren was a tall, slim man in his fifties. He was wearing his usual white lab coat and holding a plastic spray bottle and a white, fluffy rag. “Who hasn’t, by now,” he said with a half-smile. “You must have just missed it.” “What happened?” “That’s a very good question. For some reason, the reaction chamber suffered an intense over-pressure event. It was much more than the safety systems could handle. More than should be possible, as a matter of fact.” “What was the experiment for?” Ham asked. The professor put down the rag and sprayer and started to pull off his rubber gloves. “We’re trying to come up with a completely new way to construct extremely complex molecular structures,” he said. “We start with fairly complex carbon molecules, and under intense heat and pressure and a variety of different kinds of radiation, we build an extremely reactive compound. Kind of a super-nanite.” “Nanotechnology?” “Yes, but on a much finer level than anything yet achieved,” Lofgren explained. “Nanites that are being developed today are similar in size to a human cell, or larger, and since they’re really just tiny robots, they’re limited to a single task or two.” “Like what?” “The main thing that those researchers want to do is build what amounts to an artificial antibody. It’ll travel around the body on seek-and-destroy missions against damaged or diseased cells, like cancer. Our super-nanites are much smaller, and will be able to enter the diseased cells and repair them instead of destroy them. This would open up a whole new range of possibilities,.up to and including tissue and organ regeneration. We could actually program the super-nanites to rebuild or replace diseased, damaged, or even missing organs.” “That’s amazing,” Ham said. “It is, isn’t it?” Lofgren said. “But that’s years off. At this point, I’d just settle for a nanite that was stable outside the reaction chamber. Clearly it’s not even stable inside.” The professor looked at his damaged equipment with mild disgust. Ham looked at the apparatus appraisingly. “It looks like you got things pretty well cleaned up,” Ham said. “Actually, there wasn’t that much to do,” Lofgren answered. “The nanites break down almost instantly once they’re outside the rarefied environment. At least it makes them harmless.” Ham breathed a huge inward sigh of relief at the utterance of the word ‘harmless.’ “Good luck, professor,” he said. Ham’s heart was considerably lightened as he hurried back upstairs and out of the building. So a few questions were answered at least, Ham thought as he climbed the stairs of the dormitory building. The black sparkly material was a new kind of nanite that didn’t yet do anything, and dissolved almost instantly. That fit what he saw when he shook out his ragged clothes. The shock of the explosion must have dazed him, and he wandered back to the dorm, took off all his clothes and got in bed. Ham recalled stories of people being in car crashes and not remembering what happened. It all made perfect sense. Except, not quite. How did his clothes get shredded while he was napping? Maybe he’d been sleepwalking. Maybe he’d developed a sleep disorder. That was all he needed to add to his list of neuroses. Ham felt his stomach rumble as he opened the door to his room. “Hey, Hammie,” Paul said without looking up. He was sitting at his side of the desk, the soft, cool glow of his laptop screen illuminating his face. “Hey,” Ham said softly, and closed the door behind him. Paul was wearing an old pair of sweat pants and a school tee with the sleeves cut off and the openings cut back to expose his firm lats and rippled serratus muscles running down the side of his powerful torso. Ham swallowed hard at the sight, felt a tingle run up his spine and wondered if he’d ever get used to his roommate’s virile good looks. “Feeling better?” Paul asked. “Yeah, I guess.” Ham breathed deeply the fresh, clean scent of deodorant soap, noting that Paul’s hair was still slightly wet. “How was practice?” Paul turned away from his computer screen for the first time and raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” he answered. Ham didn’t usually ask about Paul’s activities, not even in passing. “Good,” Ham said awkwardly. He always sucked at small talk. “Nothing, um, unusual?” Paul looked down and stuck out his lower lip. “Nope, not really.” “Good, I mean, is that so?” “Yeah,” Paul said after a short pause. Ham was relieved to learn that his dream didn’t really happen, regardless of how ridiculously unlikely it was. As he stood there in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do next, his stomach growled again, only louder. “Whoa, buddy, you must be pretty hungry,” Paul said. Ham hoped his angry gut wouldn’t betray him again. “I should go grab some dinner,” he said. “I haven’t eaten either,” Paul said. “You want to order pizza?” “Well... okay,” Ham said as he sat down on his bed. His stomach gave another growl, causing Paul to chuckle. “I guess we’d better hurry,” he said as he picked up his phone and dialed. While Paul was ordering, Ham became more and more entranced by his studly roommates’ body. He sat slackjawed as he watched Paul’s delicious torso ripple and twist through the extra-large openings in the flimsy fabric, sometimes allowing a glimpse of a wondrously well-formed pec. When Paul put the phone to his ear and his shredded, veiny bicep popped out, Ham had to struggle not to blow his load for an unprecedented third time that day. How could he suddenly be so horny? “They said about forty minutes,” Paul said as he set down the phone. “I’ll be right back,” Ham said nervously, trying to hide his boner as he stood to flee. As he was reaching for the doorknob, something extraordinary happened. Ham stopped dead in his tracks, and all the anxiety drained away in an instant. It was as if someone had pulled the drainplug of an over-filled sink. He suddenly knew that he could will his rampant erection to relax, and so it did. He took a deep breath and turned back around. “I should get some homework out of the way,” he said. “Huh?” Paul looked up at Ham with a furrowed brow. “I thought you had to run to the little boy’s room or something.” “It can wait.” Ham said. Paul shook his head and went back to his computer, while Ham sat down and pulled out his calculus homework. Ham didn’t know where this sudden feeling of well-being came from, but he felt so relaxed and comfortable that he decided not to question it. As he went about solving the problems on his worksheet, he couldn’t help noticing that Paul kept stealing little looks across the desk from behind his computer screen. Instead of feeling self-conscious, Ham felt like it was natural that Paul would be responding this way. As they waited for their pizza to be delivered and played this odd little game of hide-and-seek, every once and a while a tiny particle of doubt would surface in Ham’s mind. This isn’t right, the little particle would say, it doesn’t work this way; but just as quickly, the odd feeling of ease would rise like some underwater creature and pull the doubt back down beneath the surface. Ham was sitting closer to the door, so when the knock came, he rose to answer. Another chill ran up his spine when he opened the door. The pizza guy was a bonafide hunk, and Ham was suddenly once more in danger of losing control. Then, just as quickly, the well-being washed back over him. “You order pizza?” the man asked. He must have been a football player, because he was wearing a letterman jacket over his pizzeria tee shirt and was built like a linebacker. “I, uh...” “How much is it?” Paul called from behind. “Fourteen-fifty,” the hunk answered. Ham thought his knees would buckle at the sound of the magnificent stud’s voice, but then, almost like someone had thrown a switch, Ham was solidly back in control. He cleared his throat and looked the big man squarely in the eye. “You have change for a twenty?” Ham asked. The studly delivery guy started to open his mouth to reply, but then for a moment, his expression went oddly blank. After a few seconds, he came out of his trance-like state. “This one’s on me,” he said, and slowly held out the pizza box. “Thanks,” Ham answered, like this sort of thing happened to him all the time. The man broke into a grin like a child receiving a compliment for a much-admired parent. Ham smiled, took the pizza and gently closed the door. He wasn’t sure, but Ham thought the man leaned over slightly as the door was closing, as if to get the last possible glimpse. “Let’s hope they got it right this time,” Paul said as Ham set the box between them. “What do I owe you?” “It was... free...” Ham said as he realized how bizarre the transaction had been. “You’re shittin’ me,” Paul said. Ham sat down as he tried to figure out what just happened. “I’m not,” he said with disbelief. “He said it was on him.” “Huh. Must of been a contest or something.” “Yeah,” Ham answered, still feeling confused. “A contest.” The pair was just finishing the last of the pizza before either spoke again. “You got a hollow leg or something?” Paul asked as he wiped his fingers. Whenever they’d split a jumbo pizza in the past, Paul had eaten the lion’s share. Ham didn’t mind because he usually ate like a bird. Even so, there was usually a slice or two to stash in their mini-fridge. This time, Ham had wolfed down nearly two-thirds of the pie before he finally came up for air. “I was hungry,” he replied with his mouth still full. There would be no leftovers that night. “Yeah, boy!” Paul said with a smirk. In fact, Ham was still hungry. “I had a huge lunch, too,” he said. “Maybe you can finally put some meat on those bones,” Paul said playfully. “You might even attract one of those muscle men you’re always drooling over.” Normally, that would have been enough to make Ham turn three shades of red and bolt from the room. This time, however, he found himself oddly agreeing with his roommate. “I wish,” he answered. Paul leaned over, put his elbow on the desk and propped his head in his hand. “You never know,” he said, raising his eyebrows. The pair locked eyes and Ham felt that strange tingle in his spine again. Ham realized that all this time he’d spent ogling his roommate’s body, he’d never noticed what a handsome face he had; his bone structure was simply exquisite. “I guess you don’t,” Ham said, mesmerized by Paul’s handsome face. The tingling in Ham’s spine grew as Paul slowly started to rise from his chair and leaned across the desk. Ham could feel Paul’s warm breath on his face when they were just inches apart. “No, never,” Paul murmured. Ham’s heart was racing as their lips came together and he closed his eyes as he savored their touch. This was better than he’d ever dared hope. As they broke their kiss, Ham reached up and placed a gentle hand alongside Paul’s face. He smiled as he slowly opened his eyes, but instead of seeing Paul smiling back as he expected, he saw a face wide-eyed with surprise. “Jesus Christ!” Paul blurted as he jumped back. Ham panicked and leaped to his feet, becoming entangled in his polymer molecule model that hung over the desk from the ceiling from a string. “Oh, man!” Paul said as he was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Ham was verging on a full-blown panic attack and turned, opened the door and dashed from the room, cracking his head on the door frame as he went. Holding his head, he ran down the stairs as fast as he could and out into the night. “God damn it all to hell,” Ham swore as he sat on a bench on the far side of campus. Not only couldn’t he go back to the library, he couldn’t go back to his room. At least his head had stopped bleeding. As he clutched his bloody handkerchief, he started to wonder if throwing himself off a bridge was a viable option, after all. “Hey sailor.” Ham looked up to see Lee leaning against the nearby lamppost with his arms across his chest. “Oh. Hi.” Lee sat down on the bench next to Ham. “Are you okay?” Lee asked. “Yeah. I just hit my head, that’s all.” “You sure that’s all? I mean, did someone do this to you?” “Nah, I was just clumsy.” Lee wasn’t completely convinced, but he decided not to push it. “Let me see,” he said. Ham tilted his head forward. “That doesn’t look too bad. You don’t look like you’ll need any stitches or anything.” “I’ll be okay.” Lee rose to his feet and held out his hand. “C’mon. You need to get that cleaned up.” Ham took Lee’s hand and allowed himself to be led away to safety. “I’ve got a little nephew that I swear is accident prone,” Lee said as he dabbed at the cut on Ham’s scalp. “They’re forever patching him up. Three weeks ago, he got himself hit in the head with a baseball.” Ham was sitting in a chair in Lee’s dorm room with the young man clucking over him like a mother hen. “I see,” Ham said. “It stopped bleeding, so I’m not going to try to put any kind of a bandage on it. It’d just get all stuck up in your beautiful hair,” Lee continued. “Thank you for doing this,” Ham said. “No problemo,” Lee answered. “I’ll just put a little Neosporin on it. How did you say you did this happened again?” “On the doorway in my room.” Lee wiped the last of the ointment off his finger tip with a tissue, then stepped back. He crossed his arms and tapped one finger against his lips as he looked at Ham with a puzzled expression. “Stand up,” he said. Ham was expecting his head to throb as he stood, but strangely, it didn’t. “The top of the doorway?” “Yeah.” Lee furrowed his brow. “It must be a pretty small door.” “Well, no, it’s just like...” Ham started to point toward the nearby door, when he realized the impossibility of his statement. Lee sat down on the bed and gestured to Ham to sit next to him. “Why don’t you tell Uncle Lee what really happened,” he said. Ham turned and looked in Lee’s eyes, and the strange calmness started to once again wash over him. “I’m not sure where to begin,” he said. “The beginning is nice,” Lee answered. He scooted ever so slightly closer to Ham and cocked his head to one side as he looked into Ham’s eyes. Ham told him about the explosion, not knowing how he got back to his bed, waking up naked– twice– his weird dream (although he didn’t go into all the kinky detail), everything short of blasting his man-juice all over the dorm in unprecedented quantities. Then– and he didn’t know where he got the courage to reveal it– The Kiss. “So you’re saying, he kissed you?” Lee asked. “I couldn’t believe it,” Ham said. “He just leaned right over.” “You mean, like this?” Lee tilted his head a little bit further, leaned in and delivered a gentle kiss. “Um, yeah.” Ham flushed slightly and couldn’t help grinning just a little. Ham wondered why didn’t he bolt from the room. The kiss earlier, as much as he had yearned for it, was a disaster. This one felt natural; comfortable, even. Maybe it was the fact Lee already knew so much about him through the muscle growth chat room. Lee took Ham’s hand. “I think you’re totally hot, and I’m surprised there aren’t more boys that want to kiss you.” Ham started to feel the tingle. It ran from the base of his spine up to his head, but this time it was much stronger. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” Ham said softly. Lee kissed Ham again, but much deeper, much longer this time. Ham had never experienced anything like this. It was like an orgasm, but more in his head and in his heart than in his groin. Lee broke the kiss and leaned back slightly and gave a coy little grin. “Is it working?” he asked. “Um... kinda...” Before he could say anymore, Ham felt a stabbing pain through his midsection. “Arrrg...” he said as he doubled over and fell to the floor. “Ham!” Lee dropped to his knees next to Ham’s writhing form. He’d seen someone have a seizure, and this looked far worse. Ham had rolled himself into a ball and was shaking violently while Lee desperately tried to remember his first aid training. Lee was about to dial 911 when Ham suddenly straightened his body out, his arms and legs stretched out like some bizarre gingerbread man. Lee jumped back, dropping his phone. Trying not to panic, Lee groped under the bed for the phone, while Ham’s back arched slightly and he stared at the ceiling, his teeth clenched and his face in a painful grimace. As he was turned away from Ham reaching for the phone, Lee heard an unexpected sound. The tearing of fabric. Lee turned back and couldn’t believe his eyes. Ham was growing. His legs and arms were getting longer. Sleeves were tearing from Ham’s shirt as his shoulders broadened. Buttons started popping as the shirt split down his expanding chest. Ham’s neck thickened and his lats grew until the top seams of the shirt split. Meanwhile, the seams of Ham’s jeans popped open along the side as his thighs and calves started blowing up like balloons. His shoes split open as his feet outgrew them. Lee had to pinch himself as he watched, spellbound by the impossible growth of the figure in front of him. As quickly as it started, it stopped. The giant figure on the floor suddenly relaxed, and its great chest started heaving and drawing in air. Lee was frozen to the spot as the figure slowly sat up and got to its feet. It had to be nearly seven and a half feet tall and four feet wide. As it stood, scraps of remaining cloth fell away. Still breathing heavily, the creature that used to be Hamish Conner held up it’s huge hands and slowly turned them over to examine them. It’s face still resembled Ham, but now it was strong and angular and incredibly masculine. The creature was Lee’s wildest muscle fantasy made real; from the impossibly wide shoulders, to the massive chest, to the gigantic arms, to the oak tree legs to the incredibly narrow, powerful waist. But most impressive of all was the giant that grew from the creature’s loins. It’s cock was at least sixteen inches long, and nearly as thick as Lee’s forearm. It jutted upward above a pair of balls the size of small oranges. Still on his knees, Lee looked up at the creature in wonder and amazement. “My god,” he whispered. In the blink of an eye, the creature reached down with one massive hand and hoisted Lee in the air by his throat. “Yes,” it said with a deep rumble, “I am.”

Part two of our ongoing saga. Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2012 - 2014 by [email protected] Growing Too Big: Part 1 Growing Too Big: Part 3 Growing Too Big: Part 4 Growing Too Big Part 2 It turned out he was worried over nothing. The next day he spent at home doing calisthenics and eating all the food in the back of his cupboards that he thought he’d never be desperate enough to eat. In between exercises and stuffing his face he lay on his bed watching himself in the bathroom door mirror that he had taken down and propped up in front of the TV. His body was still almost too amazing to believe and he spent hours massaging the massive pillows of his chest and running his hands across the rills of his stomach while slowly jerking his dick. He felt no urge to cum, content to ride the edge of orgasm while flexing the muscles of his body, watching the veins writhe underneath the paper thin skin. It was two in the afternoon before he finally forced himself to step on the scale again. He gave himself a sheepish grin when he saw that even with all he’d eaten he was just 247 pounds. It looked like things weren’t so crazy after all, though he had to admit that living life this big was still a greater gift than he could have ever hoped for. And if there was a small part of himself that was disappointed that the number hadn’t gone up it was overwhelmed by the thought that he wouldn’t be turning into a total freak even if he was already a pretty big one. Of course this was still too big to go back to work. They’d figure out that something had happened and if this really was due to one of the protocols he’d been testing – and really, what else could it be? – then there’d be hell to pay. He’d have to quit before his vacation was over which would make things tight for a while, at least until he came up with a new source of income. Still, he had a few new options, that was for sure. It seemed odd buckling down and concentrating on mundane issues like finances but he forced himself, figuring a day off from all the muscle sex wasn’t such a bad idea if only to prove he could do it. He also spent some time looking up personal training certification. Given how he looked that seemed like it could be a money maker. When he went to bed he automatically prepared to jerk off but was surprised to realize he still didn’t feel like cumming. He fell asleep with his dick in his hand, his mind filled with the images of massive men like himself fucking each other into oblivion. In the morning, big and ripped as ever, he got ready for a different kind of day. Saturdays he usually spent with friends at the movies or out shopping for useless things. Today would be different. He wished he lived near the ocean but that was a couple hours drive away. There was a river beach a lot closer that he’d heard about. He’d never been there but from what people said there was a section where guys could get some action and that was definitely what he wanted right now. He managed to pull on some athletic shorts with enough elastic in them that they could stretch up over his thighs. Even so they were like a second skin on his legs and ass. He didn’t bother with underwear or a shirt. He drove with the windows down, one big arm outside the door feeling that internal thrill once again when people noticed, a few of them even honking to get his attention. By the time he got to the spot on the river, about a half hour outside the city, his dick was half hard in his shorts and made an obvious bulge down one leg as he walked through the brush to the gay end of the beach. It was a mild, sunny day and the boys were out in force. He recognized some people and even saw a few casual acquaintances but no one connected him with the schlub he’d been before. Instead they were all in awe of the handsome mass of muscle that had appeared in their midst. He walked up and down the beach drinking in the attention, consciously trying not to spring a full woodie. Most guys were too intimidated to approach him but a few made the attempt and though he wasn’t rude he didn’t choose anyone then and there. He was enjoying the overall admiration too much to stop now. That changed around 3 PM when he saw a dark, hairy man with a beard, probably in his late forties, come down from the tree line by the road and onto the beach. The newcomer was undoubtedly the best built guy on the shore, save Dan of course. His physique was a little thicker in the middle and his body hair obscured the fine details of the muscle but there was no disguising the power of his wide shoulders and oversized chest, the sweep of his biceps and triceps, and the bulk of his squatter’s legs and ass. He looked up as Dan approached and then stepped away from the group of men he was with, reaching out with his right hand. They both squeezed hard when they shook hands, testing the other and smiling when they realized they each measured up. “Afternoon, son,” said the man after openly looking down and back up Dan’s body. “Oh, you think so?” Dan replied. “Funny, I thought my dad was back in Texas.” “Nah, he’s right here and he’s pretty impressed by how his boy turned out.” “If you were my dad I’d be pretty impressed on how you’ve kept yourself together.” “Glad to hear that. What’s your name?” “Dan.” “I’m Everett but you can call me Vet.” By now they had settled in close, pecs and bulges touching, oblivious to the crowd of men watching with jealousy and lust. “You live in the city?” Vet asked and Dan nodded. “Thought so. I have a place out here, not too far away. Got a pretty good gym set-up. You wanna see it?” Vet lived in a farm house but one that had been renovated and upgraded since it was part of a working spread. Dan parked behind the older man’s truck outside a barn with an immaculate coat of red paint. When he climbed out of his car, slightly less tight now that he had moved the seat as far back as possible, he ran right into Vet who pulled him into a bear hug and an open-mouthed kiss. Dan grabbed him back, using all his newfound strength for the first time and relishing the feel as Vet did the same. When they pulled back from the kiss Dan said, “I’m a top you know.” “So am I,” Vet grunted. “Guess we gotta work that out.” But first they visited the gym which was on the ground floor of the barn. Vet had been too modest – he had more equipment than some sports clubs Dan had seen. They both worked out in shorts and tennis shoes and used towels to wipe down the benches when the sweat started to flow. It was a tough workout, by far the toughest Dan had ever been through, but it seemed Vet was just making him do what the older man did himself with maybe a bit more thrown in the spirit of competitiveness. They did chest and arms, almost two hours of exercises that had them both pumped and glistening, their muscles glowing under the barn lights as they flexed before the wall of mirrors between sets. As they traded positions on a bench or machine one of them would slap the other on the ass or punch their workout partner the chest. Now and then they would kiss again, hard and aggressive while pawing at each others’ bodies, before Vet would lightly slap Dan on the face or Dan would push the other man back towards the next exercise. And in each of their tight shorts their hard dicks arced over towards a hip, Vet showing he had just as much there as his younger protégé. Dan did his last set of tricep pushdowns with Vet standing close behind him adding verbal encouragement. After his ninth rep he let the weight slam down, his arms burning with a deep inner fire. A second later Vet’s big arms wrapped around his torso pinning his arms to the side. Pivoting on his right foot the older man spun Dan’s almost 250 pounds around and facedown onto the padded stretching mat the covered a large section of the floor between the weights and the barn wall. Dan exhaled as all of Vet’s weight, probably about the same as his own, fell on top of him. For a moment he could only strain against the other man’s grip as Vet tucked his head into Dan’s upper back and began grinding his hard dick against the younger man’s ass. Then Dan broke the hold and flipped over, throwing Vet to the side. He quickly climbed up into a crouch while his would-be father did the same. It was like the wrestling matches he had with his brother when he was a kid only they both were masses of sweaty adult muscle instead of skinny juveniles. Vet had obviously done this before which gave him an initial advantage but Dan was younger and stronger even if his strength was the unnatural result of some experiment gone awry. Even so it took a good twenty minutes for him to finally pin Vet down with one huge arm clasped around the man’s neck and the other hand clamped on the older man’s wrist which he’d pulled around his back. Vet was on his stomach now and it was Dan’s hard dick wedged into the crack of his sweaty ass with only their shorts between them. “Damn son,” Vet gasped, “guess you’ve been training behind your old man’s back.” “You know it, dad,” Dan grunted back and then stepped on the hem of Vet’s shorts with one foot while pushing the older guy a few feet across the sweaty and slick mat. Vet’s pale furry ass slid into view. “I don’t get fucked!” he shouted struggling again. “You wanna bet?” Dan retorted wiggled his own shorts down as he kept up the pressure on the man beneath him. His hard dick sprang out and into Vet’s waiting crevice, slick and moist after their extended workout. For a moment he hesitated even as Vet’s squirming somehow put the bulbous head of his dick at the older man’s asshole. As if sensing his indecision Vet calmed for a moment and turned his head so that Dan was looking down at his profile, Vet’s one visible eye catching his. “Damn punk, you’ve always wanted to fuck your dad, haven’t you?” he grunted as he pushed his ass up and back. “And you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Dan shot back as his dick head forced its way through the tight ring and deep into the warm wet hole beyond. It was an animalistic fuck, all muscle and sweat, fur and smooth skin. Dan slid both hands under Vet’s arms and around his neck putting the older man in a full nelson and using the strength of his arms to pull him back onto his dick. Vet took it like a man, swearing up a storm and exhorting Dan to ram him harder. “You fuckin’ little fairy, is that all you got for me!” Dan redoubled his effort, each thrust pushing them further across the mat until Vet’s head rammed into the wall. He took that moment grab Vet’s leg and spin him over onto his back. Their arms wrapped around each other as their mouths met, each trying to steal the breath from the other’s lungs. Vet’s thick thighs clamped around him and squeezed their bodies together, the air caught between their big pecs making farting sounds as it was forced out to the side. He didn’t bother holding anything back and it was clear Vet didn’t want him to. The man on the bottom kept egging him on as if intent on making Dan punish his ass even more. They ended up forehead to forehead, eyes locked, while Dan pistoned his aching dick in and out of Vet’s hole, both grimacing as their muscles locked each other into a clenched embrace. Just as Vet started gasping, his ass squeezing Dan’s dick even tighter, Dan felt that all over tingle again like the pump from their workout magnified tenfold. His orgasm radiated out from his groin, enveloping his entire body like a storm. His muscles seemed to spasm, clenching and releasing over and over. A distant corner of his mind was thankful that he was with Vet for this one and not one of the boys from before. It was doubtful any of them could have handled this. Vet seemed be in similar straits, shouting hoarsely through the length of his climax before sliding from Dan’s grip and slumping back flat onto the mat. He had shot all over his hairy chest and stomach and the cum pooled amongst the hair in silver clumps. Dan pulled out of his ass and managed to climb to his feet feeling distinctly wobbly. There was a bathroom next to the gym and he staggered into it, bending down over the sink to drink from the faucet. When he looked up into the mirror he had a hard time recognizing the exhausted looking man there. Virile, strong, sexy, sure but exhausted nonetheless. Back in the gym Vet had raised himself up on his elbows but and was watching him with hooded eyes. “You done your old man proud, son,” he finally said in a ragged voice. “Thanks, pop,” Dan replied with a tired grin. “I’d make you some food to get your strength back but I’m beat. How about a protein shake instead?” Vet made them protein smoothies in the kitchen of the farmhouse. They drank them down and then made out in the shower before falling into his bed. The sun had just set and it was quiet out here beyond the hustle of the city. Dan fell asleep with Vet’s head cradled on his chest. Dan guessed it was several hours later when he woke and confirmed it when he located the glowing face of an old fashioned clock on the bedside table. He felt a nagging worry in the back of his head. He had been dreaming about work, something about a test that had gone wrong and numbers he was trying to fake before his supervisor discovered his error. Vet was now on the other side of the bed snoring softly. He rose and padded from the bedroom, trying hard not to shake the floor as he walked. A part of his foggy brain purposefully passed up the master bathroom and headed for the common bath on the first floor. He looked around without consciously knowing what he was looking for but knowing it wasn’t there. The home gym suddenly came to mind and he left the farmhouse by a side door and entered the barn. The gym was bright and stark when he turned on the lights and he quickly scanned the barn, his eyes shying away from the reflective walls, and finally saw what he needed. There was a scale on the other side of the gym set up against the mirrors. He slowly walked towards it, his eyes focused upon it, doing his best to ignore the exaggerated rolling gate of his heavy body. He knew that if he looked up, just glanced in the mirror, he’d either confirm or deny the sense of fear that he’d held over from the dream. He didn’t look up, just stepped to the scale and after a moment’s hesitation stepped up on it. It was electronic and the numbers when they appeared displayed as bright blue digits. It read 271.4 pounds. He slowly raised his gaze to that of the behemoth in the mirror. His face was as handsome as before, maybe more so. His body was simply huge, with a massive, overwhelming torso that slimmed down to a miniscule waist and then flared out into rhino sized legs. He had grown again and it didn’t take a lab technician to figure out what had caused it. He went back to the house and retrieved his shorts and shoes without waking Vet. He managed to wedge himself into his now much too small car and started the engine. It was possible that the sound of the car woke his host but by then he was heading down the drive towards the road back to the city. Vet was fun but right now it seemed dangerous to be around anyone, at least anyone male. He needed some time alone to think.

I couldn't find this anywhere on the new forum so I thought I'd upload it again. More parts are in the works (Part 2 is already done and was posted on the last site). Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2009 - 2014 by [email protected] Part 2 - The Bug: Lenny Part 3 - The Bug: Mehmet Part 1 The Bug: Rory On Tuesday I was supposed to have lunch with Rory but I blew him off. I felt a little guilty but the cute guy from my gym, the one I thought was Italian but who turned out to be Turkish, gave me a come hither smile as we were alternating on the pec deck machine. One thing led to another and I ended up spending lunch on my back at his place, Turkish music competing with the traffic noise from 7th Avenue that filtered through the open window. I called and left a message for Rory that evening, inventing a crisis at work and asking if we could reschedule for Thursday. He sent a text after I went to sleep agreeing, so Wednesday morning I suggested we meet at Little Eddie’s downtown around 1 PM. He sent back a quick, “see u there”. True to form I was late and he was waiting when I finally got to Little Eddie’s. He was sitting by the wall in the back, far away from the large windows that looked out on the street. Rory was always shy and usually sought out the quietest corner, furthest away from the crowds. In other words we’re nothing alike but somehow back in 9th grade we became friends and we’ve stuck with each other since. Do I love him? Yeah, like the little brother I never had, even though he’s four months older than me. Still, he’s annoying as fuck, a fact I remind him of every chance I get. “Jesus, Ror, couldn’t you find a table in the kitchen?” He looked confused for a moment, shooting a glance at the swinging doors that lead off to the back, and then words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, I thought–, I mean, we can change, but this was free–, I don’t care if we–.” “Relax, relax, I kid,” I said looking heavenward and sliding into my chair. He had wavy brown hair that fell over his ears and framed a boyish face. That he had glasses was no surprise, since no self-respecting geek went without, but he was wearing the same style that he’d worn when we met 12 years before. I had not been successful in convincing him to modernize. “I just meant that most people come here to see the action and maybe take a little home with them. You’re not going to get lucky back here in Siberia.” “Oh, I get it,” he said and smiled an embarrassed smile, a really killer smile, actually, that if properly utilized could have gotten him more action that afternoon than he’d seen in the last year. He may not have been the hottest thing in town but Rory had a lot going for him. What he did not have was even an iota of self-confidence. It had been thus for years and though I doted on my little friend I’d pretty much given up on trying to nudge him into the slow lane (currently he was parked on the side of the road). He was as predictable as mud which is why I was surprised at the question he sprang on me. “Do you think I should join a gym?” “Well, uh, yeah, of course,” I stuttered, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. “I mean you should have joined first thing after graduating high school but it’s never too late.” “Yeah,” he agreed, looking off into the distance, “I was thinking the same thing.” “Great, but why now? You’ve never been interested in anything physical before.” His eyes slid away and I realized he was embarrassed. My spider sense began to tingle. “Oh my god, something happened, didn’t it? What happened, Rory? What tawdry, disgusting little thing happened that’s convinced you to start working out?” He grimaced but didn’t bother trying to deny it. “It wasn’t tawdry or disgusting, it was just…. I don’t know, just kind of odd.” He paused but saw that I was ready to jump in and went on before I could. “I was on the subway yesterday, on my way home from work, and this guy got on at Collins Square. I don’t even know why I looked up, it wasn’t my stop, but I saw him come through the doors and Lenny, he was just huge. I think he was the biggest guy I’ve ever seen.” Rory’s eyes were shining like he’d seen Madonna at a spring or something. “He walked funny, he was so big. He was in this red t-shirt and it was so tight… There was only one seat open, right next to me, and he took it so I was kind of smashed up next to him and his big arm was all on me. I didn’t want to stare, I thought he might get mad or something, but I looked down at his thigh next to mine and it was like you could have fit three of my legs into one leg of his jeans. I couldn’t believe it….” Rory trailed off, reliving this magnificent moment. I was impressed – I’d never seen him half as excited about a guy before. “So what happened, dork? You’re leavin’ me hangin’ here.” He cleared his throat before going on. “Well, not much. I mean we just sat there until Richland Avenue where he got off.” It was my turn to grimace. “Of course you didn’t say hello or nice day or what huge legs you have, I’m sure. But what about him, did he give you any sign?” “No, not really. He just sat there and breathed. So did I. He had a really nice smell.” I couldn’t help but sigh. Leave it to Rory to make a mountain out of a molehill. Still, if it pushed him to get up and out of his apartment with any regularity then it was to be supported. “I never knew you were into big muscle or smells, but hey, whatever works for you.” He began to dispute this description of his predilections but ignored him. “I think it’s a good idea, joining the gym, that is. You might as well join City Athletics, there’s one a couple blocks from your place. You can talk to my friend Kurt there, he can probably give you a deal.” “Sure, sure, City Athletics, Kurt.” “I think they give you a free training session when you start plus I can show you a few things. I know my way around.” I did know my way around the gym, though I wasn’t huge or anything. I was tight, though, and my abs were almost excellent. I could teach Rory a thing or two. “Thanks, Lenny. I’ll go this afternoon.” And that’s exactly what he did. My friend Kurt mentioned it to me when I ran into him that weekend at Gold Dust Lounge. He yelled in my ear over the dance music that my friend Rory had joined and hired a personal trainer. I was happy for the little dork though I was a bit distracted from Kurt’s news by the blonde guy a little further down the bar who kept throwing me half-smiles over the shoulder of what I assumed was a boyfriend. The blonde guy was named Randy, the boyfriend was actually a cousin newly out of the closet, and the night ended with Randy and I fucking like rabbits back at my place. In a nice bit of symmetry the cousin ended up with Kurt. For eighteen days we continued to fuck like rabbits. It was a lot of fun until a simple question about the life-size photo of he and his ex-boyfriend that hung over his bed caused a hysterical crying jag (on his part) that was not sexy. The last time I saw him he was leaving an embarrassingly long message on the ex’s voicemail begging to be taken back. Honestly, I hope it works out for them. Back amongst the non-hysterical I started checking in with my friends, shooting messages to Rory among others. His text reply was a short, seemingly terse, ‘hitting the weights. later’. It looked like he was sticking with that gym thing, at least for a few weeks. It was another week before I found myself at loose ends in his neighborhood and decided to actually give him a call this time. “Yeah?” He sounded a little groggy, like the phone woke him up. “Ror, baby, I’m on your block. Invite me up.” There was a delay as if he was trying to decide whether or not to offer the invite but before I could get offended he simply replied, “Yeah, OK. Come up.” I took the elevator to his floor, found his apartment door was open a crack and let myself in. Just inside the door I saw a gym bag on the floor and wondered if he’d dropped it there after he last worked out or if he’d already prepared for the next one. Knowing Rory it was probably the latter. The living room was empty, as was the kitchen, but he came out of the bathroom before I could look any further. His hair was messy and he was rubbing his eyes so I guess I was right about him being asleep, but that thought was immediately pushed aside. He was dressed in just a tank top and some boxer briefs so it was very easy to see that Rory was bigger. I’m pretty good at math when I need to be, i.e. when it’s somehow connected to getting laid. Rory was about my height, say 5’ 10” (though I almost always claimed 6’). I’d seen him dressed down enough to know that he was one of those guys who ran to skinny rather than fat, let’s say around 145 pounds, smooth without any sort of definition. The guy in standing in front of me now wasn’t anything like that. We were still eye-to-eye but my gut told me this Rory was more like 170, maybe 175, and there was no missing the shape of the exposed biceps and shoulders or the weight of his thighs. It had been four weeks and somehow he’d put on about 25 pounds which I knew to be impossible, no matter what he was taking. “What the fuck happened to you?” I asked, my voice sounding strange, even to me. He frowned, yawned and then moved past me towards the kitchen. “I took the day off,” he said over his shoulder, then added. “Off from work, I mean.” “What do I look like, HR? I mean what happened to you. You’re bigger.” He was undoing the top of a large tub of protein powder and proceeded to pour two scoops into a shaker. Standing in profile to me I could see the curve of his pecs up front and his ass in back. This definitely was not the same Rory. “I’m getting there,” was all he said as he filled the shaker with tap water and then shook it violently. He chugged the mixture quickly and then rinsed the shaker before setting it back on the counter next to the protein. When he looked back at me his stare was direct and unconcerned, nothing like the shifty, side-eyed looks I usually got from Rory. I took a deep breath and tried again. “You look great, it’s obvious the gym is working out for you. But Ror, you must have put on 20 pounds and that’s not –.” “Twenty-seven,” he said calmly, interrupting. “Fine, twenty-seven then, but that’s crazy. No one gains weight like that.” He shrugged, displaying his newly rounded shoulders and the sweep of his traps, and I suddenly felt a rush of desire, a first for me with Rory. I tried to follow what he was saying. “It’s easy Lenny, you just have to lift and eat and sleep, and that’s what I’ve been doing, all month, nonstop.” He smiled a bit after this and I saw a glimmer of my old friend but he was hard to spot in this new body. Things seemed out of whack and I suddenly felt very uneasy. He ambled over to the sofa and dropped down on it, heaving out a big sigh. “I mean it’s not like I’m anywhere close to that guy on the train.” For a second I had no idea what he was talking about but then I remembered the big guy who had prompted his gym initiation. “Come on Ror, you said he was massive. You’re bigger but not that big.” “That’s what I’m saying,” was his steady reply. “I’m not massive… yet.” He stared up at where I stood standing in the middle of his living room and I realized he was slowly rubbing the bulge in his boxers. His other hand was on his chest, cupping the new mass of his right pec. It was too much for me – I made a lame excuse and left his apartment. If nothing else seeing Rory’s progress made me workout harder, as if I somehow needed to stop from falling behind. I was still confused at how he could have made so much progress so quickly – even steroids don’t work that fast – but over the next few weeks I managed to convince myself that he hadn’t really gotten as big as I’d assumed. Sure, everyone puts on some quick muscle when they first start at the gym and on a skinny guy like him it was going to be particularly noticeable. But 27 pounds? No way, he was just yanking my chain. I went on thinking that until one Thursday when I ran into my friend Kurt from City Athletics once again. This was at a place called Splinter (don’t ask me – dumbest club name I’ve ever heard), which was down in Dockside in some converted warehouse. The place was kind of dark so I almost walked right past him, but we caught each other’s eye at the same moment and I stopped. “What’s up, Kurt?” “Hey Lenny, I’m good,” he said. “You here alone?” He was looking over my shoulder as he asked it and I had to laugh. “Oh, you mean blondie? That didn’t work out – he had issues.” “No, I thought Rory might be with you.” “Rory? Here? No way, he wouldn’t be caught dead.” “Yeah? He said at the gym that he was thinking about…” Kurt’s voice trailed off and I could see his eyes lock on something behind me. I turned to see this big guy rolling up on us, his wide torso displayed in a very tight, barely-there tank top. The flashing disco lights caught on his big arms and shoulders, making the overbuilt muscle seem to flex in time to the music. He was my height but must have outweighed me by a good 50 pounds. He was handsome too. His head was shaved close, like a Marine, and it wasn’t until he shot me a raised eyebrow and a cocky grin that I realized I knew him. It took a couple more seconds, seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, before I somehow realized it was Rory. At least the face was Rory’s, though only in a similar way. The jaw was stronger and there was no trace of the shy passivity that had served as an everyday mask for my childhood buddy. This man looked ready to conquer the world. The body was beyond comprehension. He would have stood out anyway, even if I wasn’t rooted there making wordless, mental objections to the impossibility of it all. He was simply huge, like a competition bodybuilder. I’d never really been turned on by the big guys before, by the ones whose only goal was to get as big and massive as possible. I tended to go for the gym cuties that could workout and then drink all night at the club. But I couldn’t deny that Rory, this big, muscular behemoth that had replaced the skinny kid I used to know, had a magnetism I hadn’t experienced before. While I was trying to process all this Kurt was not wasting any time. He brushed by me and gave Rory a big hug that went on long enough to go from a come-on to a blatant invitation. Rory stood there, one big arm around Kurt’s waist, and smiled at me. After a couple seconds he whispered something in Kurt’s ear and then pushed him away, his eyes never leaving mine. He swaggered up to me and it was all I could do to not step back as that big chest approached. “Hey Lenny.” The voice, like the face, was only similar. It had changed, gotten deeper and rougher as if in compliment to his changed physique. “So we’ve never fucked,” he continued, stating something obvious to us both, “but we should. You’ve always had a nice ass.” It was about as Neanderthal an approach as I’d ever heard and normally I would have shot it down with something witty and slightly vicious. I didn’t do that this time. Instead I found myself nodding in agreement and following him out of the club. When we hit the street he turned and pulled me into the mass of his torso, his lips crushing mine, his tongue shooting into my mouth. His strength and size were overpowering. I found myself grabbing at his arms, his wide back, his minuscule waist, frantically exploring the contours of his muscle, oblivious to anyone watching us. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes, our faces only inches apart. “I’m still getting bigger,” was all he said, and then he turned and pulled me by the arm down the street in the direction of my apartment. He fucked me all night long. Literally. Every time he came, roaring like a bull in heat, I was sure it was over but scant minutes later he’d pull me to him again, his strength surprising me each time. And me, who was normally so in control whether on top or bottom, gave it all up to him, without restraint. I couldn’t get enough of his mass, the way he positioned me at his whim, the smell of his sweat and muscle. At some point I fell into darkness, came awake later to feel him behind me, his arms clamped around my chest, still sliding up deep inside. Finally I passed out for good. In the morning he was gone and I could barely move. I painfully climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. The man in the mirror, his eyes wild, his lips bruised, was a stranger. I splashed some water on my face and felt a bit more real. A long, hot shower helped me gain a sliver of normalcy. Even so I called in to work, not even bothering to invent a lie, just telling my boss I’d had a hard night and couldn’t come in. After the night’s marathon session I was ravenous so I went down to the corner deli and picked up a couple breakfast sandwiches and a carton of orange juice. After eating I finally felt enough like myself that I wondered what I was going to do with my free day. Lying on the bed, I idly smoothed out the sheets then pressed my face into them, reliving his smell. Suddenly I felt the urge to go workout.

Part 2 of this story. Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2010 - 2014 by [email protected] Part 1 - The Bug: Rory Part 3 - The Bug: Mehmet Part 2 The Bug: Lenny My father always expected me to take over his store someday. He started working there when he was only seven, stocking shelves and carrying vegetables up from the basement while my grandfather manned the front counter, selling milk, eggs and cigarettes while talking to the men from the block about baseball and politics. Outside the store, in the Turkish and Lebanese neighborhood where we lived, the old women in black shawls would walk arm-in-arm down the sidewalk, telling stories about their neighbors and casting critical eyes on the children playing in the street. My family had a store back in Turkey before my great-grandfather came to America. I never learned why he left there but I think it was because he married my great-grandmother, Nasia, who was Greek. I barely remember her, she died when I was six, but she scared me. In my memories she’s always staring at me with dark eyes sunk in a wrinkled face as if she knows I’ve done something wrong. Sometime early on I vowed to escape, across the river and into the city that I could see in the distance, tall towers climbing into the sky. I wanted to leave the store, the neighborhood and the insular group of Turkish families that traded sons and daughters in an Old-World game of marriage and alliance. I wasn’t ready to admit what I really wanted but I knew I couldn’t marry any of those girls, that I had to leave before my life was anchored in the same tenements that had already captured my father and brothers, uncles and cousins. When I was fourteen I rode the subway into the city with my mother, my aunt and two cousins to visit my Uncle Berker who was in the hospital for an operation. The city was so busy with so many people, all going somewhere important. We ate lunch at a corner diner where my mother and aunt talked in hushed tones about my uncle while my cousins and I kicked at each other under the table. I got bored with the foot game after a while so I looked around and saw a man clearing tables, stacking dishes in a plastic tub to be taken to the kitchen. He might have been 25 or 30, dark like me but certainly not Turkish. When he lifted the tub his arms flexed, filling the rolled up sleeves of his t-shirt, a tattooed eagle on his facing arm undulating with the motion of the muscle underneath. I suddenly felt a kick to my stomach as if one of my cousins had managed a well-placed blow with their sneaker. For the rest of lunch I watched him, whenever he was out front, hoping to see him flex his arms again. I was so distracted I didn’t notice my family getting up from the table and my mother had to grab me by the head to get my attention. “Mehmet, what’s wrong with you?” I couldn’t say, wouldn’t say, knew that she’d never understand. That night in bed, my younger brother asleep in the bunk above me, I lay thinking about that arm and its eagle, dreaming what it would feel like to be strong like that. On my eighteenth birthday, a few weeks after I graduated high school, I told my father I had been accepted to City University. He was silent for a moment, pursing his lips and looking away from me in a recognizable sign that he was unhappy. I knew he was trying to decide how this would affect the store and the ever increasing hours he had me chained there. But I also knew that he couldn’t disagree with me going to college, that education was as important as milk and cigarettes, maybe more so. He finally, painfully, agreed that I could work evenings and weekends, was almost angry when I said I’d need at least a couple nights off to do homework. A month later I found a cheap apartment share in the city and a job at a restaurant. By Christmas I was only going home every other weekend to see my younger brother Omer glaring from the door of the family store as I walked by, father’s angry replacement for me. At the restaurant where I bussed tables, stacking dishes in a tub before taking them to the back to be cleaned, there was a bartender named Rolo. He was couple years older than me, originally from Spain but so long ago he sounded and acted more American than I did. He joked with me as we worked, throwing ice at me as I passed by or stealing food from my plate as I ate in the break room. They made him wear all black, a black buttoned down shirt and black slacks, but you could still tell he was in great shape. His shoulders seemed overly broad, his waist almost too small, and I couldn’t help noticing his ass molding the rear of his pants. I’d listen to the female waiters whispering about him when he left the room, my heart beat pounding in my ears as I thought the things they said aloud. Once Rolo caught me as I was leaving work on a warm August night when the city seemed busier at 2 AM then it had all day long. He walked with me down the sidewalk, cracking jokes about the people at the restaurant, making me laugh even though my stomach was queasy and my palms sweaty. At the corner of Empire Avenue and 28th Street he motioned with his head in mid-sentence and I found myself walking to his apartment, a 3rd floor walkup in a shabby building. I sat silently on his futon, afraid my voice would quaver and broadcast my fear if I spoke. He must have known because he kept up an easy patter as he unbuttoned and shrugged off his shirt, displaying a tight white tank top seemingly sprayed onto his wide, hairless torso. When he put his hand on my knee I felt my heart stop but it must have kept beating because moments later our arms were locked around each other and we were kissing. He felt amazing, all smooth and muscle under velvet skin. We broke the kiss and then his lips were on my neck and ears, making me gasp at the touch. I licked his traps and on down to his swelling biceps, which flexed and writhed as we grappled. I was afraid he’d be disappointed – I was slim and tight but not nearly as muscular as him – but his passion showed that he was as turned on as me. When he rolled over onto his stomach and raised his perfect ass it seemed so natural for me to take him, like it was what I’d been missing all my life. He couldn’t understand the words I moaned in his ear, curses and praise in my father’s tongue, but he could feel my excitement as I drove into him with the strength of years of pent-up lust. I felt his tight hole spasm as he came, triggering my own climax in turn Rolo and I became lovers. Not that night but five years later, long after we’d both left the restaurant. I ran into him at a house party shortly after he got back from Los Angeles where he had moved for couple years in hopes of becoming an actor. We fucked at my place in Kensington, the apartment I’d moved into after graduating college and getting my first real job. He kept going on about how much bigger I was and I just smiled down at him, his legs wrapped around my waist and my hands pinning his wrists to the bed above his head. I was bigger and more muscular but it was all because of him, because of what I loved so much that night he first took his shirt off. We were only together eight months but we parted friends when he hopped a plane to Miami and the next chapter in his life. I settled down into my routine of work and the gym, and the occasional visits back home to the family where I endured a parade of young Turkish women who needed a husband just as it was assumed I needed a wife. After each visit I’d run for the subway and escape back to civilization for a frenzied workout and a casual fling with some tight young stud. That’s how I met Lenny, a guy from the gym that I sometimes saw out at night or at the piers on summer afternoons. He was sexy enough, blondish brown hair and a beautiful ass, but with a bitchy streak that thankfully I could ignore when we were fucking. I’d seen him looking at the gym a couple times and smiled in response, not in any hurry since he seemed like just one of the many interchangeable guys you meet in the gay ghetto. One day things came together and we started talking during a late morning chest workout when I was supposed to be working from home, my cell phone being my only real connection to the office that day. I took him to my place and fucked him twice before lunch was over. We exchanged numbers and I forgot about him. Not long after my older brother Selim announced to the family he was leaving his wife and daughters for a Puerto Rican woman from the auto supply company where he worked. You’d have thought the world was coming to an end. I did my best to stay out of the whole thing though my mother managed to guilt me into one meeting with him. I didn’t attempt to change his mind – given my family secret it seemed hypocritical to even try. I met his new inamorata that Sunday after Selim and I finished lunch at a tapas place near Collins Square. She seemed very nice, much nicer than the woman my father had previously convinced him to marry. I said goodbye and watched them disappear into the midday crowd, Selim’s arm tight around her waist. I was sorry for my nieces, I knew this wouldn’t be easy on them, but I hoped for the best for my brother. I also decided the best antidote to family stress was the gym. I headed home, cutting over towards 7th Avenue on 16th Street. Halfway down the block my family ruminations were kicked to the curb when I saw this big guy walking towards me. He was dressed in standard Kensington fashion – sunglasses, sleeveless t-shirt, knee length shorts and sandals – but normality stopped there. He was really big, huge in fact. Massive torso, tiny waist and back out to gigantic legs that seemed to struggle to get around each other as he walked. There were plenty of gym boys in this part of town, including me, but this guy looked like a professional bodybuilder and was easily the biggest person I’d ever seen in real life. I realized my mouth was open and I snapped it shut as we approached each other, him taking up a good portion of the sidewalk. He slowed as we neared and a cocky smile appeared on his face, taking me by surprise. “Hey man, how ya been?” He seemed to be speaking to me but I had no idea why. I looked around but as was often the case the street was nearly empty despite the crowds that thronged the avenues this block ran between. “Uh, I - I’m good,” I stuttered, positive that he had mistaken me for someone else. He reached up to his glasses and my eyes latched onto his forearm, probably as big around as my bicep, the muscle fibers clear and distinct under the skin. When his eyes appeared I did a double-take; he did look familiar, sort of, though I couldn’t imagine why. There was no way I could ever have forgotten that body. “So here we are and it’s lunchtime again,” he said with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah it is. I just ate with my brother…” Inwardly I kicked myself for sounding so inane. Who the hell was this big fucker? He moved towards me and I couldn’t help stepping back a half-step, intimidated as that enormous chest neared mine. “I liked your music, I wanna hear it again,” he said in a low voice and somehow that did it. “Lenny,” I breathed as I felt one of his big hands slide around my waist. “Who’d ya think?” he asked as he leaned in and kissed me there on 16th Street. I think I resisted, or tried, but it was like pushing against a building. He only tightened his grip in response. His tongue pushed into my mouth like he owned it, as forceful a kiss as I’d ever received. When he finally pulled back, his eyes staring deep into mine, I could see the outlines of the guy I had picked up at the gym and fucked those few months ago but that was all that was similar. Everything else had changed, impossibly changed. I suddenly felt the urge to run. As if sensing my half-formed intention he turned me back the way I was headed, walked me to 7th and then down the avenue towards my apartment. It was weird feeling such a huge presence at my shoulder, watching people step aside as we approach, some in surprise, some with burgeoning lust on their faces. I guess I’m a good-looking enough guy that I’m used to some attention when I walk through my part of the city, but this was something altogether different. People were as awestruck with him as I was, some stopping to stare, a few even taking pictures with their phones. Lenny ignored them all, walking along as if he owned the sidewalk. No one seemed to be in the mood to contest his ownership. A very quiet and logical corner of my brain was running down a list of reasons why this couldn’t be happening. The first item on the list was that Lenny was smaller than me – I knew this for a fact having been naked with him only eight or nine weeks earlier. Therefore, the behemoth next to me could not be Lenny. I found some momentary comfort in this as if it were evidence my brain was still functioning but then Lenny’s over-sized arm bumped into and pushed aside my own and the point was lost. A bit further down the list was the fact that I was a strict top – I’d only ever considered switching positions once after a drunken New Year’s party. My desire to experiment ended at the moment of first contact when I suddenly decided there were some things I didn’t need to experience. Now I found myself nearing home with a man who was very obviously in charge, despite the roles we’d played last time we met. I avoided the eyes of my doorman as Lenny walked me across the lobby of my building to the elevator. We shared the ride up with an older woman who lived somewhere on a floor above me. I imagined her disapproval of the big man’s hand cradling my ass as we got off on my floor. I fumbled with the key to my door, Lenny’s torso pressed into the back of mine, his hands gripping my hips. When the door finally opened he thrust me into the apartment, kicking it shut behind us, and then whipped me around, pressing his lips into mine once again. To say that he was overpowering was an understatement – his arms were like a vice around my torso while his mouth and tongue stole the breath from my lungs. I could barely think as he hefted me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and thudded through my open bedroom door. It was only when he tossed me on the bed that I had a moment to think, to try and clear the thought and feel and smell of him from my brain. It was only a short moment because standing next to the bed he gripped the bottom of his shirt and tore it over his head. As his impossibly wide torso came into view my mouth fell open once again and the logical part of my brain gave up the fight, giving into the lust that overcame me. I didn’t resist as he pulled off my shoes and then opened my pants before pulling them off as well. Seeing all that muscle bunching and moving under the skin, the roll of his chest and shoulders as moved me around like a toy, made me so hot I started grabbing at him, trying to pull him onto me. He kicked off his sandals and managed to push his shorts down over his thick thighs and straining erection, and then he climbed up on to the bed and over me, his arms like thick columns on either side of my head. “Whadya want?” he asked in a husky voice, his eyes burning into mine. “You,” I gasped, completely lost in his strength. “I want you.” Then his arms collapsed and he was on me, his over-sized muscle covering me completely as his hips forced my legs wide apart. Whatever my previous trepidation or concern it was gone now, completely subsumed in my need for him and his body. I didn’t know what time it was but it was twilight outside my apartment windows. There was a bedside clock on the other side of Lenny but it was obscured by the height of his slowly rising and falling torso. He lay on his stomach, his far arm lying on the bed above his head, his face turned towards me so I could see one of his now closed eyes. It was so strange, I could still see the shade of the gym twink I’d met before, like the imprint of a child in the features of the man he would later become. I’d never been a muscle whore, never been attracted to the big steroid boys who grunted and groaned their way around the gym. Lenny, the old Lenny, was my type, in part because I always wanted to be the one on top, calling the shots, directing the action. Now, coming down from this recent sexual high, my mind was just starting to try to deal with finding myself on the opposite side of things. Only half thinking I ran a finger from his shoulder down the curve of his tricep, marveling at his human landscape. “Like what you see?” he asked, surprising me. “You know I do,” I replied in a whisper. He opened the one eye, looking at me for a few seconds before pushing himself up on his immense arms and then swinging his legs onto the floor. “Good,” he continued as he stood and headed for my bathroom, “cuz this is gonna be you in a little while.” I stared after him, a puzzled look spreading across my face, trying to figure out what he meant.

Here's part one of a new idea I had. The growth starts small but I plan on having the morphing continue as our hero(?) deals with the results of his actions. Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2014 by [email protected] Tit for Tat Mickey was dead tired but arguing did that to him. That was one of the reasons he never argued with girls – it was exhausting and you were never gonna convince them of anything, so why bother? He unlocked the door to his apartment, stepped inside and kicked the door shut with his foot. His arms were full with his briefcase, tennis bag and dry cleaning but he just tossed them in a heap on the sofa. Glancing at the clock he saw it was almost 10 PM already – fuck, a whole evening wasted. He hadn’t even had time for the gym. The girl’s name was Amy and when he saw her standing outside a coffee shop in Oldtown a month ago he had whistled to himself and pulled his car over into an advantageous parking spot. It was summer and she wasn’t wearing much – a beautiful girl with long hair, long legs and an amazing rack. She was just his type as long as it didn’t take a huge investment to get her in the sack. It usually didn’t take Mickey long to score. He’d graduated from Notre Dame two years earlier having coasted through school on a baseball scholarship. He never kidded himself that he was good enough to make it in the majors but baseball got him a degree and more tail than even he could shake his dick at. Girls at school were already primed to go for baseball jocks but with his blue eyes and the dirty blonde hair on his head and chest he hit a homerun every time. He was all smooth muscle everywhere else with broad shoulders, thick arms and a tight waist, not to mention his own long, strong legs and a fat dick between them to complete the package. He wasn’t exactly huge down there but definitely bigger than average. He got the job done. And he was nice too, or seemed so when he was trying to get their panties off. He was very nice to Amy that July afternoon, nice and polite and didn’t mention her tits once even if he stole a glance or two when she was looking down bashfully. They ended up going into the coffee shop and he had her number before the barista finished making their lattes. Turned out that for all her blushing and shy looks Amy was a kick in bed. It took two dinners to get her there and Mickey was justifiably proud when he was able to sidle into her apartment after the second date, a smooth move that ended up with them naked on the hallway floor outside her bedroom. And those tits – they were everything he knew they’d be. After the hallway they managed to make it to her bed for the second fuck and then he kissed her goodnight and went home. It was a school night after all. The truth was he didn’t like staying over. He was convinced that girls spent the time when a guy was asleep next to them in bed planning out weddings and marriage and all the other shit he had no time for. Better to keep things a bit more casual by ending up back in his bed at night. It was part of the reason he preferred to fuck at the girl’s place since it was easier to escape than it was to convince her to leave his apartment. They fucked around for three or four weeks and it was all fun, at least the sex part. It didn’t take long for the dinners and earnest conversations to get boring. Amy was a beautiful girl but God could she talk. He couldn’t remember half of what came out of her mouth; a mixture of romantic idiocy, liberal crap and uninteresting details about the thesis she was writing on American folklore. Pretty soon their dates turned into hookups with minimal interaction prior to jumping in bed. But girls like Amy couldn’t be happy without all the stuff advertising and romantic comedies told them should go along with great sex. After a month he realized the sex wasn’t gonna make up for all the hoops she wanted him to jump through to get to her tits. Still, there was no reason to be a complete dick about it. He handed her a story about not being over his last relationship and needing time to himself to sort things out – that kind of bullshit. Problem was her university wasn’t far from his office so when she appeared at the side of his car in the parking garage one evening after he’d left the office he had no choice but to agree to a latte to discuss what had happened. She did her best to talk him into working things out but not even her rack could convince him to keep going. He spent most of the time mentally going over his fantasy football team. “You never really wanted this to work, did you?” she asked and that got through to him. Maybe it was the tone of voice, which was much colder than usual. “Babe, that’s not true,” he said with a sad note in his own voice. “I really thought I was ready but I guess I’m not. And I know that sucks, I really do, but I’ve got to be honest with myself. I just need space right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest and they rested there on those two big mounds of support. For just a moment he was tempted to… but no, he’d regret it. “I think it was just about the sex, that’s what I think. You just wanted to fuck.” She wasn’t trying to be quiet now and a couple nearby heads in the café swiveled in their direction. OK, Mickey thought, time to shut this down. “I’m sorry you think that, Amy,” he said standing up from their table. “It’s really sad that your mind works that way. I thought so much more of you.” He gave her a sad shrug before heading towards the door to the street. She followed him outside. “Just fucking admit it, Mick. For once just be honest. It was just about sex wasn’t it?” He stopped on the sidewalk and turned back to her. She wasn’t cute anymore, she was just annoying. He hated girls who couldn’t accept the facts of life. He was man, she was a woman, they had some fun – that’s all there was to it. He decided to give her the honesty she asked for. That was his big mistake. “OK, fine, you’re right. I wanted to fuck so we fucked. I thought you were cute and had amazing tits so we fucked. Are you happy now?” From the look on Amy’s face she was anything but happy. Even Mickey could see that she was hurt but overlaying that was very obvious anger. He was suddenly glad that she had never been to his apartment. “Yeah, I’m great,” she said in a low quiet voice that was almost lost in the evening murmur of city traffic. “I’m just dandy, Mickey.” “Glad to hear it,” he replied though by now he didn’t care in the least. “So then we’re all done here.” Her eyes glinted in the fading twilight and for a moment he thought she was about to cry but then she smiled a rueful smile and seemed to get herself under control. “Yeah, I think we’re pretty much done,” she answered and then stepped forward, going up on her tiptoes. It looked like she was going to give him a goodbye kiss but at the last second she averted her face so that her lips slid up next to his right ear. She whispered something then, something long and complicated that he was never able to recall, and he stood there frozen until she was done. Then she stepped back and he caught a glimpse of her now triumphant smile before she turned and walked off down the sidewalk, never once turning back. “Crazy chick,” he muttered to himself and then glanced at his watch. Damn, he was running late. Now he was finally home trying to forget everything that had happened. She was just one more girl who couldn’t handle a grown up relationship. Life sucked for guys like him who knew what they wanted and, more importantly, what they didn’t want. Sure, someday he’d settle down with some beautiful, young lady and start a family out in the suburbs but that wouldn’t be until he was at least thirty. Maybe even forty. By then he’d be making big money and there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t snap up some young coed looking for a handsome father figure. But right now he was beat and it was all he could do to drink a quick protein shake before crawling into bed more than an hour before his normal time. Stupid, exhausting girls he managed to think before falling into a deep slumber. He felt better in the morning. Much better as a matter of fact. He whistled as he got ready for work and tried out a selection of dazzling smiles in the mirror while shaving. He felt happy, giddy even, and the events of the previous evening only lightly touched at the periphery of his mind. Life was good and he was going to go out and enjoy it. After wiping the shaving cream off his face he stopped and looked at himself once more. There was no denying he was one hot motherfucker. Yep, everything was just about perfect. Just about. Then an idea came out of left field, something he’d never considered for himself and had always thought was pretty ridiculous on other guys. Despite the strange nature of the impulse he didn’t hesitate and picked up his shaving cream again, releasing a large dollop of cream onto his hand and then rubbing into the hair on his left pec. It only took ten seconds to completely cover his chest and the treasure trail of hair that led down his abs to his groin. It was a couple minutes more work to completely denude his torso leaving it as smooth as, well, as a baby’s butt so the saying goes. He wiped off the cream and stood there a little nonplussed. Never in his life had he considered doing the manscaping thing. It certainly made is chest stand out more, made it more sensitive he thought as he ran his left hand over the smooth skin. The hand stopped on top of his right nipple and he couldn’t help tweaking the hard nub which had grown erect in the cool air of the bathroom. He shivered then but more from the sensation coming from his nipple than the air. He exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and quickly stepped into the shower. Enough playing around or he’d be late for work. On his drive to the office he couldn’t help noticing how his undershirt felt sliding across the smooth expanse of his torso. It was erotic in a strange way, enough that he had a chubby most of the way into work. Truth was his suit pants and dress shirt seemed to be rubbing him in a lot of strange places too. He wondered if the dry cleaner had shrunk them both. Mickey worked in sales at an advertising firm. It was good job for someone with self-confidence and a winning personality, and he wasn’t lacking in either. He shared an office with a fellow jock named Doug who had played football for Michigan and had graduated a couple years before Mickey finished school. They got along pretty well except for the couple weeks before the Notre Dame – Michigan game. As soon as he got into the office Mickey had to hustle to make it to his boss’ weekly sales meeting. He slipped into the conference room just as Mr. Wilhite was getting started, sharing a nod with Doug who was sitting in a chair near the end of the conference table. Mickey took a seat across from him and flashed an apologetic smile to Wilhite who droned on without noticing. The meeting was as boring as ever and didn’t take long for Mickey’s mind to wander. He began to daydream about how the rest of his day would go. Work, of course, but afterwards he’d hit the gym hard to make up for missing last night. He had a feeling that today’s work out would be killer. Might even start that mass building program he’d be thinking about, put on some real muscle like Doug on the other side of the table. It was easy to see that the linebacker back had kept up with his workouts after leaving school. His arms filled his sleeves and when he stretched, like just now, the buttons on his dress shirt looked like they had a tough time keeping his chest contained. It was difficult to say whether his chest was smooth or hairy but maybe if he–. “You have something on your mind, Mr. Rose?” a voice said cutting through his thoughts and Mickey literally jumped in response. He caught a glimpse of Doug giving him a puzzled stare before whipping around to see Mr. Wilhite with a much less friendly expression on his wrinkled face. “Uh, I’m sorry, what sir? What was that?” He felt warm and flustered like he’d be caught with his pants down. Shit that might actually be a good thing; they felt so fucking tight in the butt and thighs. “I was hoping you could fill us in on your sales progress this week,” Wilhite said in a very cold and measured voice. Mickey did his best though he still felt out of sorts. After he’d gone over his account book they continued around the table, Doug calling out two major wins he’d pulled off in just the last few days. Mickey listened but kept his eyes on the table, trying to concentrate but finding it difficult. His mind suddenly seemed to be floating a bit, wandering in and out of focus. What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he coming down with something? Doug asked the same thing when they were back in their office after the meeting ended. Mickey shook his head and told him he was just a little tired, inventing a late night with some girl in his apartment complex to explain his spacy attitude. Apparently that made perfect sense to Doug who launched into a more detailed story about a hook up he’d had with a woman on the client side, something that was strongly discouraged at their company though all of the guys flouted the rule whenever they had the chance. Mickey listened to his hunky officemate describe the torrid scene in the empty coat check room of a downtown restaurant and couldn’t help slipping away into another dream state as he imagined Doug going to town on some faceless broad. She truly was faceless, a mere shadow in his mind though Doug was displayed in intimate detail; so much so that when dream Doug dropped his pants Mickey’s mouth fell open and he leaned forward to get glimpse of his huge–. “What the fuck, dude?” Doug said and Mickey once again had to shake himself awake. Mickey found himself pitched forward in his chair staring up at the former football player who was leaning back against the edge of the desk on the other wall of the small office. He gulped and quickly sat back, trying to say something, anything, to explain his odd behavior. “Quit staring at my junk,” Doug laughed and then dropped down into his office chair to get back to work. After a silent moment Mickey swiveled around and did the same. By the time lunch rolled around it seemed his missteps had been forgotten so he and Doug went out to grab something to eat at a food court in a nearby building. Mickey’s head was clearer now and as he stepped out onto the sidewalk he took a deep breath of the clean, summer air. It felt amazing. Lunchtime in the city was always crazy so they weaved their way through the crowd, dodging tourists and other office workers also out enjoying the weather. They crossed the street and walked across an open plaza before passing into another building. Just inside Mickey caught site of men’s room and waved Doug on ahead to the food court. “Gotta drain the main vein,” he joked and headed into the restroom. “Great idea, me too,” he heard Doug reply behind them and a moment later they were standing at neighboring urinals. Mickey unzipped and started taking a leak, his eyes looking off into the depths of the tile wall in front of him, following the grout between the square tiles and making invisible patterns. He could dimly hear Doug going on about something next to him but it didn’t seem important and soon his head lolled around, his eyes glancing down at his own dick and then sliding over to his neighbor’s. Doug was big, just like he imagined. It also looked like he trimmed down there so maybe that’s why he looked so large, cuz it wasn’t covered up at all. He was cut too, just like Mickey, which was good. It’d be easier to work on a dick like his own, at least the first time. “Guess you like what you see,” Doug said in a low voice and Mickey’s looked up to see his work buddy staring right into his eyes, grinning slightly. No, not grinning. Sneering. A part of him quailed at that look which signified that Doug wasn’t looking at him as another dude but as something much less. Some sort of pervert, a fairy. He opened his mouth to object, to deny such a sick thing, but he couldn’t say a word. Instead he just stuck out his tongue and ran it around his lips, moistening them, making them shining and inviting. Doug just shook his head in disgust and zipped up, exiting the restroom without washing up. It took a moment for Mickey to get control of himself but when he did he slowly zipped up as well and staggered to a sink. God, he really was sick. Something was wrong and he had to get out of here before it got worse. Outside the restroom he saw Doug waiting but with his eyes on his cell phone. Mickey made a break for the doors back to the street. It was still sunny and beautiful out on the plaza but he ignored all that and made a beeline back to the office. In the elevator on the way up he found himself sandwiched behind a delivery guy in a brown polyester uniform. He looked down at the guy’s large thighs which were only half covered by the shorts he was wearing. The calves below looked strong too and he could imagine fondling them, kneeling down and running his cheek over them, the coarse hair scratching the soft skin of his face. When the elevator doors opened on his floor he shoved his way past people towards the front to escape but couldn’t stop himself from turning his head to catch the profile of the delivery guy, from his strong chin down past his thick chest to the bulge in his shorts. He thought he might have seen the guy’s eyes flick his direction but then he’d escaped into the reception area of his office and made a dash for his office, ignoring the looks he got from the receptionists and the people on the office floor. Alone in his office he took a moment to collect himself. He had no idea where all these crazy thoughts were coming from but he knew he had to get home where he could clear his head and get everything back on track. That whole weird thing with Doug would be hard to explain but he’d take care of it somehow. He was good at coming up with explanations for the shit he did – he could manage this one too. Doug might be back at any moment and he knew he had to avoid that so he gathered his stuff and casually went back out onto the office floor. He told reception he’d be out for the rest of the day on sales calls but to email him if anything important came up, then he took a mercifully empty elevator down to the parking garage and his car. The drive home was uneventful. He woke up several hours later sprawled out on his bed, a bit groggy but otherwise OK. He stumbled to the bathroom and took a piss but on his way out glanced in the mirror and did a double take. He stared for a moment then quickly stepped to the full length mirror on his closet door. “What the fuck?” he muttered. His body had changed. He knew the body he washed and clothed and worked out and this wasn’t it, not quite. At first he thought it might just be because the hair was gone on his torso which was really the only hair he had except for that on his head, pits and groin. And yeah, his chest did definitely look different, looked larger, but his waist looked smaller. And his ass – it had been uncomfortable all morning in his suite and he could see that somehow it was fuller and rounder. It stretched the fabric of his boxers to the limit. His chest was… well, it was amazing. He’d never been one of those big body dudes like Doug but then it was never a look he wanted or needed, not for baseball. Now his pecs looked bigger, like he’d gotten some sort of super pump at the gym. Just as earlier that morning he slid his hands over the smooth mass of them and ended up on both nipples, nipples that looked much more pronounced than normal. It seemed so natural to grab them between his thumb and forefinger, to twist them hard and hear the low, sensual moan that escaped from his mouth as the sensation hit home. The doorbell rang at that moment. Mickey’s eyes widened and a guilty look washed across his face as if he’d been interrupted doing something not quite right. He stood there frozen, hoping that whoever it was would just go away. He couldn’t see anyone right now, not before he figured out what was going on, what virus or hormonal issue had caused all this. He needed to get to a doctor, some kind of specialist–. The bell rang again and was followed a few seconds later by a heavy knocking on the front door. It sounded like whoever it was wasn’t in the mood to come back. He slowly walked to the door and peered through the peephole to see Doug’s distorted image. Jesus, what was he doing here? “I can hear you, asshole,” Doug called through the door and Mickey knew he was caught. He took a deep breath and then cracked the door, hiding most of himself behind it. “Hey man, what’s up?” he asked trying to sound normal. “You tell me – why’d you ditch me?” “I’m really sorry, I felt like I was gonna heave or something. I just needed to get home and get some rest, so I’ve been-.” “Dude, what the fuck? “ Doug interrupted looking annoyed. “I came here to check on you and I gotta stand on the fuckin’ porch?” Mickey hesitated and then stepped back from the door, letting Doug come inside. His visitor looked him up and down making Mickey feel very vulnerable in his too-tight boxers in contrast to Doug’s business suit. He mumbled an apology and headed to the bedroom to grab some clothes, his mind once again whirling. Something about his coworker’s presence had once again put him off kilter, like he was half-drunk or something. Maybe this all had something to do with Doug and not some sort of hormonal thing. Things had been kinda strange since this morning when he woke up but they definitely got worse at work when… His thoughts trailed off as he realized that Doug was watching him from the bedroom doorway, the same smile from earlier on his lips. Mickey was still in his boxers and still felt vulnerable but somehow it wasn’t a completely bad feeling. Part of his mind was confused and jumbled but another deeper part almost liked the feeling that came over him when he saw his officemate stand there, so strong and commanding. He couldn’t help the coy, inviting look that stole over his face, which seemed to be just what the other man was waiting for. Doug stepped into the room and crossed over to him, his big body coming to rest mere inches away. “So what really made you run away?” he asked in a low voice as one oversized hand slid up the side of Mickey’s torso. Mickey could only sigh in response as Doug’s touch made his skin come alive. He arched his back, throwing his chest forward in stark relief. The big man chuckled and placed his other hand on the smooth expanse of Mickey’s pecs, kneading the muscle in his strong grip and setting off fireworks in the baseball player’s brain. Suddenly he was in cradled in Doug’s arms and the big man’s lips came down hard on his own. Mickey couldn’t fight it anymore and didn’t want to, grabbing the other man around the neck and kissing him back. He felt Doug’s leg come between his own and instinctively he began riding the other’s muscled thigh, grinding his crotch in wild abandon. Doug’s hands slid down into Mickey’s already strained boxers and cupped the globes of his ass. When a thick finger moved between them and rubbed at his asshole Mickey felt a charge shoot through him that he’d never felt before. How was it even possible for something to feel so good, so completely right? He didn’t know or care and when Doug slid the boxers down his legs and past his knees Mickey hopped out of them to stand nude in his coworker’s arms, at least for a moment. Doug pushed him back until Mickey was forced to drop down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He looked up at the big man, mouth open and eyes wide with lust. One of Doug’s hands cupped the side of his face. “Damn, baby,” he growled, “you shoulda told me you were down for some fun.” Doug slid his thumb in to Mickey’s mouth and watched him suck it, the lower man’s eyes still glued to those of the man above him. After a moment he pulled his thumb out and gripped Mickey’s head tightly with both hands, forcing his face into his crotch and against the thick tube that arched to the left under his suit pants. Mickey moaned again as he felt the heat of that throbbing dick through the fabric, aching to feel it free and rubbing him skin to skin. If there was any part of him that objected to Doug’s rough treatment it was hidden away, screaming in some dark corner of his mind. Something new had taken over, something that commanded him to give himself to Doug, to do whatever the other man demanded of him. It was what he needed more than anything, to submit to the bigger man’s desire. Whatever he wanted Mickey knew he would do. Doug shrugged off his suit coat and threw it on a nearby chair. His tie and dress shirt quickly followed leaving just a tight t-shirt covering his upper body. He pulled this up over his head and Mickey drank in the sight of Doug’s corrugated stomach and expansive chest as they were displayed. Apparently there had been no new grooming habits for Doug this morning because his torso was covered with a short carpet of dark hair that swirled in a pattern around his nipples and then led down to the packed mound of his groin. He leered down at Mickey as he unbuckled his pants and let them drop to the floor revealing a pair of red boxer briefs that were molded to mass of his erection. Mickey dove for the other man’s dick, mouthing the thick tool through the briefs while his arms circled around Doug’s big thighs. The bigger man threw his head back and reveled in the sensation. God he loved desperate little pigs like this. He’d never have guess that Mickey was one but it was a damn good thing he’d finally found out. He looked back down at Mickey just as the other man slipped off the bed and onto his knees. Mick attacked Doug’s dick with renewed ardor, slobbering through the cloth that covered the huge pole as if hoping to actually eat through the briefs. Doug decided to help him out by pulling down his waistband and letting it swing free to slap the face of the subservient slut. A moment later Mickey opened wide and slid his mouth down Doug’s dick, gagging himself as he attempted to take it all in. “That’s it baby,” Doug growled grabbing the back of Mick’s head and forcing him to take another inch. “You’re gonna take it all on both ends.” An hour later Doug pulled on his and pants then stood up from the bed and slipped into his loafers. He looked down at Mickey who lay on his stomach, his ass still raised as if in invitation. With a grin the big man slapped it hard, the sound ringing out in the bedroom and mixing with a deep moan from Mickey. “Fuck me again,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on Doug’s crotch. “Damn, you’re a little slut aren’t you,” Doug laughed in response. “Sure, I’ll fuck you again but right now I got work to do.” “You can come back. Anytime you want you can have it, I swear.” “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be back,” he assured the eager bottom while his hand went to Mickey’s ass again, this time to grab and fondle it. Doug turned away to continue dressing and Mickey watched him while unconsciously pulling at one of his sore, distended nipples. His body hurt in ways it had never hurt before but he still felt a deep need and craving to get fucked again. It made no sense but he didn’t care – he just knew he’d have to get it again and soon, if not from Doug then from some other man. “Don’t get it twisted though,” Doug said from the bedroom doorway, completely dressed now and ready to leave. “I’ve already got a girlfriend and I’m not looking for another one.” “I don’t care,” Mickey replied with a lazy smile, “I just wanna fuck. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Here's another series I've been working on that I don't think I've added to the new site. Please let me know what you think. -------------------- The following work of fiction portrays men in sexual situations. Please do not read if you are not interested in stories written for erotic purposes, if you are not of legal age, or if it is illegal for you to read sexually explicit material in this format or through this medium. All characters in this work are fictional. As such, they are immune to any and all types of infectious diseases, including the AIDS virus. You are not fictional and therefore you are not immune. Follow safer sex guidelines or risk having some brainless disease write the ending of your life story for you. Copyright 2012 - 2014 by [email protected] Growing Too Big: Part 2 Growing Too Big: Part 3 Growing Too Big: Part 4 Growing Too Big Part 1 Dan rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. Despite the early hour and the lack of sleep he felt strong and alive; better than he had felt in years. He crossed to the bathroom and pulled closed the door so he could see himself in the full length mirror that hung there. As he took in the view he couldn’t help the almost childlike grin that appeared on his face. God knew how but it hadn’t been a dream, it was all real. The grinning idiot in the mirror was a handsome man. No, he was a beautiful man, beyond handsome. Dark hair buzzed short, piercing brown eyes, clean straight teeth. Damn, he looked like a toothpaste ad, above the neck at least. That neck, that’s where it really started. It was broad and thick, a column of muscle that only led to bigger and better things. Shoulders almost too wide to be seen in the mirror were capped by rounded and striated delts. The torso was wide, made more so by the tightness of the waist. Huge hanging pecs with distended nipples pointed southward. Massive biceps and triceps hung down like horseshoes when he swung up his arms to flex. Eight cobblestones for abs that led down to trim pubic hair clustered around the base of his soft yet lengthy dick. He palmed his dick with one oversized hand and felt it respond immediately, lengthening and thickening, fighting against gravity to raise the round head up to 90 degrees. As he hardened he tensed his legs, his quads jumping out in stark relief, all four heads easily visible, muscle fibers pushing up beneath the thin skin. They all joined together just above his knee before the bulbous mass of his calf muscle exploded out from the lower part of his leg. There was not a part of his body which wasn’t developed to symmetrical perfection. To quote countless stories he had read online he looked like a competitive bodybuilder. Maybe not a super-heavyweight but easily a top of the line light-heavy and light years beyond his appearance only a few days ago. He had been doggedly working out for years, intent on building one of those muscular physiques that had powered his fantasies since he came to terms with his sexuality back in college. Except for a few cherished and worn out memories he’d never been able to score with the athletic men that he worked out next to at the gym or lusted after in magazines and on blogs. Never quite handsome enough and always just a bit out of shape despite the diets and constantly revamped workouts. For whatever reason Mother Nature seemed intent on keeping him one of those run-of-the-mill guys that the sexy built studs overlooked. That all changed two days earlier. He still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what happened though he was fairly sure that it was something from the lab at work. Usually lab technicians like himself weren’t given full details on the compounds the company was developing, just the necessary information for the small part of the process they were testing. Dan’s guess was that somehow something had jumped quarantine and the face and body he saw in the mirror was the result. By rights he should be locked down in an isolation block somewhere but he had no intention of telling anyone what happened. All he planned on doing was having more of the type of fun he had the night before. First things first. He called into work and coughed a bit on the phone, inventing some very common cold symptoms that his supervisor agreed should keep him home. A few vague suggestions of tiredness and stress and his supervisor was soon agreeing that he might as well consider this the start of his annual vacation a few weeks early. Some bulky clothes once he went back to the office and he could claim a new haircut and some dental work had helped give him a new outlook on life. He had no doubt they’d buy it. The shower that followed was one of the most enjoyable ever. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of all the soapy muscle, the strength in his arms and legs. His dick was still hard but he resisted jerking off. It seemed criminal to keep all this sexy to himself. As he dressed in his workout clothes he grinned once more, remembering the events of the previous night. This new body required food, that was obvious, so he made a late night run to a nearby grocery store. The blonde surfer boy coming out as he walked in made clear his interest and desire. When he walked out with his groceries the young stud, all of 22 or 23, was waiting by Dan’s car with one hand casually hooked in the front of his board shorts showing off the pale, untanned skin just above his groin. “Evening,” Dan said with a smile. “Howdy,” was the reply as the kid’s eyes ran up and down Dan’s arms which his tank-top left bare to the cool night air. “You looking for me?” “Sure, if you’re looking for me.” “Why not? You live near here?” “Yeah, why doncha give me a ride?” His name was Allen and he had walked to the store from his nearby apartment. His roommate was out of town so they’d have the place to themselves. Once inside the kid ran his hands where his eyes wandered before, letting out a deep breath when Dan flexed his arm, his bicep expanding into a vein covered mound. “Fuck, I love your body,” the kid said and then they were in a clinch, their mouths mashed together and their tongues fighting for space. Dan’s won. In Allen’s bed it was natural for him to take charge of the younger man. The kid couldn’t get enough of Dan’s arms and chest, his thick legs and sculpted waist. It was the kind of worship he’d always dreamed of doing to others and now someone was doing it to him. It made him feel more sexy and powerful than ever before. He let Allen lick his way all over his body before shoving is achingly hard dick into the younger man’s mouth. Allen took it like a pro, taking all of it down his throat despite the increased size and thickness that Dan was still trying to get used to. With one hand on the kid’s head controlling the speed of the blow-job he leaned forward and kneaded the globes of his smooth hairless ass. He loved how the kid vibrated on his dick when he fingered the tight hole and said so out loud. Allen just grunted in response, his hands clasped tight around Dan’s thighs as if trying to pull him even further into his throat. The kid was good, almost too good. He pulled out and quickly flipped him over onto his stomach, kicking his legs apart with his knee. He spit on the kids pucker then pushed in a finger and before long another. Allen was moaning one long continuous moan, his head waving from side to side. Dan climbed on top of him and sunk his dick into the kid’s ass, lacing his fingers into the younger man’s and pinning his hands to the bed above his head. It was a great fuck, undoubtedly the greatest fuck he’d ever experienced. In the middle of it, as he did his level best to split the willing kid open, it suddenly came to him that it was only the beginning, that from now on he’d be having amazing encounters like this with a ton of sexy men. Life would never be the same. From the sounds coming from beneath him it seemed Allen came twice before he finally couldn’t hold back his own climax any longer. His orgasm was tremendous. Spiritual even. He felt it from the fuzz on his scalp to the tips of his toes and within every muscle fiber in between. And though he was exhausted afterwards on some level he felt stronger and more energized than before. He disengaged from Allen’s sweaty form, turning the kid’s head to verify that he was groggy but OK. He left without trading phone numbers. Back home at his condo he gorged himself on some food and then collapsed into bed, sleeping for over ten hours. If he dreamed he remembered nothing. Now it was a new day and he headed to the gym, more eager for his workout than usual. He was excited to test the strength of this body, to see the muscles when they were pumped. It was midmorning after the pre-work crowd and before anyone showed up on their lunch hour so the parking lot was almost empty. The same was true of the weight floor which had only a smattering of people, mostly older folk getting in their daily exercise. He did chest, conscientiously stretching first and then pyramiding up in weight to poundage he had never come close to before. He went from one exercise to the next, both free weights and machines. His body did it all without complaint, his chest flexing and pumping under his tight sleeveless t-shirt. It may have been his own physique but it was erotic enough to get his dick up again, half hard in his sweats. He was rearranging his erection when he glanced in the mirror and caught the eye of swarthy well-built man in his mid-thirties, probably Latino, who was eyeing him appreciatively. He turned away from the mirror and caught the man’s eyes directly, giving him a nod. The other guy nodded back and mouthed, “Hot,” before going back to his shoulder press. Dan just grinned. They circled each other through the rest of their workouts and when the Latino man headed to the locker room Dan followed. They ended up in the sauna together sitting on opposite benches with an old man in between humming a jazz tune. When the old guy finally left Dan rose, stepped over to the other guy and stood before him, his body taught and live. The Latino reached up and cradled Dan’s right pec as if testing the mass of it. “You like that?” Dan asked in a low voice. “Fuck yeah,” he replied in accented English and reached up with his other hand as well. Dan dropped his towel to reveal his growing dick. The Latino sucked it into his mouth, his eyes still raised upwards, barely visible over the mounds of Dan’s pecs. Dan got to work fucking his throat. They could have been caught by anyone passing by – hell, for all he knew they were but he wouldn’t have noticed. The man had some trouble handling Dan’s size at first but soon got into it, his mouth and throat massaging his dick like a vacuum. All the while his hands were all over Dan’s pecs and arms, eyes widening when Dan flexed. It felt amazing to be on the other end of this worship, to feel the lust and desire coming off the other man in waves. It made his dick harder, his muscles seemingly bigger. It was everything he had always wanted and never gotten. He came with a roar, literally choking the kneeling man as his dick expanded and shot straight into the other’s stomach. He left him there on the floor of the sauna hacking up snot and semen. On the way to his car Dan felt bigger than ever, his body moving in a rolling gait as his thighs fought to move past each other. Before heading home he stopped for more food, his hunger at a peak once again. That afternoon in front of the mirror once more he marveled at his body which seemed bigger than ever. He stepped on the scale for the first time in a week and saw that he weighed 218 pounds, but that was ripped contest weight on a guy just over 5’10”. Some pros didn’t come in that good. He spent the evening doing sit-ups and push-ups with no desire to catch his usual TV programs or to even put in a porno. If he never jerked off again it would be fine with him. It was Thursday night and he dressed to go out in a skin tight t-shirt that had once been loose. His formerly baggy jeans hung low and tight on his hips, the top button undone and the thighs filled to bursting. He drove into the city listening to dance music on the radio, his car feeling smaller than it used to – almost cramped. After he parked he walked down dark streets past clubs and hookers, a feral smile on his face in response to the catcalls that erupted when he passed by. Boyd’s was one of the oldest gay bars in the city but it still attracted a crowd. Thursday was its big night and Dan was assaulted by the sounds and sweat of the club when he walked through the door. Seconds later he peeled his shirt off and was wading through the mass of people, exhilarated by the appreciative glances and the lingering touches as he shouldered his way to the dance floor. He came across a youngish twink with an amazing ass jutting out in profile. The young man must have felt his gaze because he turned his head and did a double take, the bored expression disappearing from his face. Dan swaggered over and put his mouth next to the boy’s ear. “You wanna dance, sexy?” “Sure,” was the surprised and bewildered reply. They spent an hour on the dance floor during which Eddie, his new friend, quickly lost his inhibitions. They made out, Dan’s hands cupping his firm, tight ass, Eddie’s hands squeezing the mass of his biceps and triceps. They danced ass to groin, Dan massaging the smooth, hairless torso while Eddie pushed back as if wishing they could fuck right there, in time to the music. At some point Eddie climb aboard and wrapped his legs around Dan’s waist while they dueled with their tongues. It seem pointless to waste anymore time so Dan carried him off the floor and out of the club, dropping the boy to his feet outside but possessively wrapping an arm around his neck as they walked to his car. Eddie had two roommates but they were asleep elsewhere in the third floor apartment so they made their way to boy’s room. He switched on the lamp on the bedside table and watched Dan kick off his shoes then slowly slide his jeans down over the mass of his legs. When Dan straightened up Eddie’s mouth was open wide in wonder, his worshipful eyes sending a charge through the bigger man that was almost physical. He stepped to the boy and pressed Eddie’s face into the valley between his pecs, flexing the muscle into rigid mounds on either side and then forcing the kid’s mouth over to one distended nipple. Dan was rough and commanding during sex, moving Eddie from position to position, using the kid like a sex toy to get him off. Eddie was delirious with lust and passion, frantically grasping at Dan’s body, choking himself on his big dick and moaning with whorish abandon as his ass was stretched and pummeled. The first time Eddie came without touching himself, a high pitched squeal erupting from his mouth. Dan wasn’t done and kept fucking, rolling the younger man over onto his shoulders and pushing ever deeper into his ass. When his orgasm finally came he didn’t worry about waking roommates or neighbors or the pope if he was nearby. He let loose with a yell of his own feeling a tingle in every muscle of his body as his dick shot over and over. Like Allen before him Eddie seemed completely undone after sex. He lay on his bed in a fetal position mumbling incoherently while Dan gathered his clothes. He fingered the boy’s slick ass one last time before opening the bedroom door and stepping out into the main room. He felt pumped all over, the weight of his body even more evident than before. He felt supercharged like he’d just gotten up from a long nap. In the living room he found one of Eddie’s roommates, a black guy about Eddie’s age in boxer briefs with a concerned look on his face. His body was a work of art – not big and built like Dan’s but tight and fatless like a gymnast. “Is he OK?” the guy whispered trying unsuccessfully to keep his eyes on Dan’s face. “Yeah, just a little sore,” Dan replied and then dropped his balled up clothing on the sofa. He pointed to an open door that could be seen down a shadowy hallway on the opposite side of the room. “That your bedroom?” The roommate hesitated then nodded. Dan walked up to him until there were mere inches between them. The other man looked scared for a moment then slowly backed away towards his bedroom. Dan followed, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck, feeling a burn in his muscles like he never felt at the gym. The roommate stumbled backwards into his bedroom and Dan went in after him closing the door behind. It was 3 AM when he left the roommate’s room. He laughed at the thought of going three for three but decided to skip the last bedroom. In the living room he picked up his clothes but quickly discarded the thought of trying to put on his shirt. It had been difficult enough at home before he got all sweaty. Instead he just pulled on his jeans but found they only went part way up his thighs. He’d managed to force his way into them earlier but it was impossible now. That seemed sort of funny. He ended up fashioning a sort of loincloth out of his t-shirt for the quick dash to his car which thankfully was parked not too far away. It was strange running with this big new body, the muscles rising and falling with each stride. The street was deserted and he made it without seeing anyone. When he bent down to get in he narrowly missed slamming his head into the top of the door frame and it took some effort get himself completely behind the wheel. The car was more cramped than ever. He drove home hunched over wondering if he needed to get a bigger one. Once home he lumbered to his bedroom then over to the mirror on the bathroom door, tossing his loincloth to the ground. He didn’t look like a middleweight anymore. He looked like a super heavy, one of the really big guys who dominated the contests and the magazines. The scale agreed – he was 246 pounds, which seemed impossible. For the first time since this all began he felt the first faint stirrings of disquiet. The man he’d become couldn’t be disguised with baggy clothes and talk of a new haircut. There had to be a limit to all this muscle, right? It wasn’t like he could go on growing forever. Could he?

Colin led the team out onto the field, clad in Jackson’s incredibly tight baseball pants and tank top. His tryout for the team, at this point, was a mere formality. But if there were any doubts, he put them to rest with a stunning 90 minute performance: he tired out three of the team’s best pitchers with what Coach Conway calculated as a batting average of .695, and set a record first base run of 3.59 seconds. As if this wasn’t enough, just to prove his formidable power and endurance, he pitched for 45 minutes, clocking an average speed of 106 miles per hour, just shy of the Major League record of 107, set by Nolan Ryan. What really sealed his position of dominance though, came when the team’s top hitter came to bat. James stood about 6 1, and a solid 195. He was known as a powerful hitter, and often came through for the team with a clutch performance. Colin’s first two pitches went straight into the strike zone. James was very competitive and had a reputation for his intensity on the field. Coach Conway and I were standing on the sidelines watching intently. James’ eyes narrowed as Colin stretched out for the next pitch. But instead of winding up, Colin dropped his baseball glove. Coach Conway turned to me and said, “Greg, he can’t pitch without a glove. It’s against league rules, and he’ll break his hand if James hits the ball to him.” Coach started to trot out to the pitcher’s mound. Instinctively, I reached over and just grabbed his shoulder. Not realizing how my own grip strength had improved, I was surprised to see the Coach immobilized. “You’ll stay here, Coach, and leave Colin alone,” I said, feeling a surge of the power that Colin was so easily displaying. “He knows what he is doing.” I glanced over at Colin and he nodded to me approvingly. Coach took a step back; wisely realizing that resisting my iron grip was futile. I chuckled a bit, just imagining what thoughts were going through his head right now. The pitch to James went right down the middle, and his bat connected with the ball. The ball went like a bullet, right towards Colin. In that instant, I was terrified because he didn’t have a glove to catch it, but I also had confidence in his power and athletic instinct. In a play that is still talked about by those who witnessed it, Colin just extended his thick arm. I could see the ropy muscles of his forearm tighten up as his enormous hand opened up. And he stopped that ball dead in its tracks with his bare hand. I could see the power rocketing up his forearm to his enormous bicep and then to his cannonball deltoid, and even being absorbed down to his thick chest. In an instant, he had stopped what was quite literally a bullet with his bare hand, using the solid muscle of his entire upper body to absorb the impact. And he easily absorbed that impact. While the rest of us were stunned in silence, Colin seemed entirely unfazed. He just looked at James and said, “You’re out.” In a fury, James dropped his bat and charged at Colin. Colin just stood firm, his entire body clenched as he said “Let me see what you are made of James.” All 195lbs of James’ solid muscle crashed right into Colin, who didn’t even tip back an inch. He absorbed the body blow as easily as he absorbed the baseball. James seemed to bounce right off Colin, and landed flat on his back. Being a good sportsman, Colin reached down and hoisted him up to his feet with ease. “I like your energy James, I can work with that,” is all he said to the dazed powerhouse hitter. As he walked off the mound, Coach Conway said, “Colin, I’m sorry I doubted you. Third base is yours.” Colin just replied, “All the positions are mine now, Coach. Do you think I need your approval anymore?” And without waiting for a response, he walked towards me at the dugout. He stood facing me, and while I was still getting used to looking up at him, I felt very proud. The ball was still in his hand, and I gazed as moved it about, strengthening his grip. In fact, he was looking at my hands. “I’m impressed with you Greg, you sure did take care of the Coach just then.” His eyes still on my hands, he just nodded to me. I lifted one hand up, and placed it on his shoulder. “Go ahead Greg, let me feel that power I put into you.” I tightened my grip on his shoulder, which felt like solid steel to me. I could barely make a dent in him, but he sure was measuring me up. “All those years that you worshipped me, Colin. You were really just training me?” “I was learning from you, brother. You had so much potential, but I just knew how to bring you…both of us, to an entirely different level. And now, you sure feel much stronger Greg.” Then he lifted his empty hand and put in on my shoulder, and in an instant, I was in his death grip. But I was able to withstand it. I slid my hand down to his thick, powerful chest, and placed it right over his heart. Even with all the exertion, he was still, incredibly, very calm. Without saying a word, we both knew he was that although he was bringing me along on this incredible journey of surging power, he was clearly the dominant force now. The whole time we were practicing, Jackson was running up and down the stadium steps, clad in the 75lb weight vest. Brendan and Jeremy were pushing him, and they seemed utterly tireless. As he let his grip on me relax, I could see Colin’s big chest heave as he summoned them in a booming and commanding voice. We all gathered around Colin as Jackson trotted over to us. Jackson seemed completely spent, but at the same time I could tell he was activated by Colin’s attention. Brendan and Jeremy, much like Colin, seemed completely relaxed. Jackson stood upright, next to Colin, but he seemed like putty in Colin’s hands. Jackson started to peel off the weight vest. “That was some workout Colin,” he said. “The workout has just started Jackson. You need to strap that vest back on.” Even though Jackson’s size advantage over Colin was obvious, it was clear that Jackson would not be defiant. Brendan and Jeremy seemed to know what to do next without being asked. “500 push ups” said Jeremy. Jackson scoffed, until he saw Brendan holding two 45lb. plates. “You’ll do them with these on your back. It’s the only way you will grow Jackson. And then 500 pull ups, also with the plates attached to a weight belt” Just hearing the word grow seemed to motivate Jackson. He dropped and got into a perfect push up starting position. Colin stood over him as Brendan set the weights on his back. “Do some math Jackson. Show us all how smart you are. And what you didn’t even know you were capable of, until I came along.” Jackson, with his entire body tightened up, said, “I weigh 210. The 75lb vest brings it to 285. And now the two 45lb plates on my back bring the total to 375lbs.” “Give me 500 reps Jackson,” Colin said very coolly. “Brendan and Jeremy will push you through it. Then give me 500 pull-ups, same weight.” Then Colin squatted down and whispered into Jackson’s ear, “Do it, and you will grow.” And instantly, Jackson stared churning out the push-ups. Colin sent the rest of the team into the weight room, and told them to get started. I stayed behind, as did Coach Conway, and Marcus, who seemed to be quietly observant all afternoon. “Coach, I need housing for the team,” said Colin. “Over the next 14 days, we will eat, sleep and train as one, at my direction. You will stay with us, since the team needs a liaison to the university. But I am setting the direction for this team now, is that clear?” The Coach seemed to hesitate for just a second. “I’m not sure I can get housing at this point in the year Colin.” Colin just glanced over at me. I looked down at my hands, and had a sudden realization: I was, in many ways, as powerful and athletically fit as Colin, Brendan and Jeremy. Colin had been transforming me all along. And although I would never be as big or strong as Colin, I felt that surge of power that seemed to emanate from him. I gently placed a hand on the Coach’s fairly thick neck. As if in a trance, I heard Colin say, “Feel the power Greg. It’s yours.” As I slowly tightened my grip on the Coach, I could see his knees start to buckle. Instead of resisting me, the Coach seemed to just give in to my grip. I just heard him say “Oh shit Greg…take it easy, you are like a python.” But instead of relaxing, I tightened up a bit more; just to show him I was comfortable using my newfound power. “There’s an abandoned university house on Pearson Street, Coach. It’s ours now, right?” I said. “Yes Greg. But it was boarded up last month.” I tightened just a bit more, and the Coach relented and said, “I’m sure you can punch that door right open Greg.” “It’s ours now Coach,” said Colin. Then he turned to Marcus and said “You belong to Greg now. I will supervise your training, but you belong to him. Got it?” “Got it, Colin,” he replied dutifully. “Now let’s go see our new home.”

I don't have access to stable internet, so here's something really quick, and kinda experimental writing style. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Imagine, if you will, a female friend of yours, telling you she found out the secret of growth. Male or female, it works. It's permanent. And it's very simple. But it wasn't easy to explain. you had to see it to understand. She insists it works. And it'll be amazing. She's sharing it with you for whatever reason. She's going to perform this miracle on her and her boyfriend at her apartment. She had a webcam all set up for you to see the miracle happen, to learn the technique that you longed for since you first understood the concept of size. As her and her boyfriend get hot and heavy on the screen, something shakes, and the webcam shifts, and falls to the ground, lens down. All you see is blackness. but you hear the dialog completely. "Ha, told you it would work!" You hear her voice shout, excited. "This...is invigorating!" Her boyfriend says. "I can't believe how easy this was to do!" "Yes, it sucks it can only happen...once...oh man..." She says, her voice a bit shakey. "Does this feel as good for you as it does for me?" "Oh God yes...It's like...Oh man, look at my tits!" You hear her soft moan. "Even your touch feels a thousand times better." "Oh wow..." He said, panting between word. "Look at my hand...it's huge..." He laughed a bit. "Your breasts are still bigger though..." "Tits. My tits." "Come on, I don't like that word. It's not classy enough." "They are mine, so you call them what I want! Tits!" "Or what?" "Or...this..." "Ohh...oh man...I'm about....I'm about to...c..." "Come on baby, shoot that load." "I...I can't....It just keeps building...up..." "Oh...wow...look at how big you're getting. Can I even fit that in me?" He just moaned. She followed suite. "Looks like you have no trouble with it..." "God...it's doesn't even look human. I can't believe I fit ALL of it in me so easily..." You hear squeaking of the bed, and moans increasing in frequency. "We're...uh...we're growing faster..." He said. "AND IT FEELS SO MUCH BETTER...UHHHH" She shouted, more enthusiastically than you've ever heard from her before. "Oh god...this power. It's like the universe itself is pouring pure pleasure, power, and sexual energy into every fraction of my entire essence, amplifying this raw, primal emotion to levels never before seen on this planet! And even with this endlessly rising divinity coursing through every cell, more cells appear, with as much power as the most powerful cell! Pure life flows through us, amplifying the very core of what we are, what we were, and what will be, uniting us through threads of reality we can't even fathom and..." "oh my god shut the fuck uuuuupppppp OOHHHHH GOOOODDD FUCK MEE HARDER YOU GIANT BEAST!" You hear their combined shouts and screams, louder than any noise a human being could ever make, accompanied by the sound of walls and ceilings cracking, and debris sprinkling, before the noise finally comes to a stop, and you hear a thump. It didn't sound like everything collapsed...but you couldn't be sure. Mostly because the whole time, you were trying to call her, to get her to fix the camera. You could HEAR your phone ringing in the background. "Wow...I'm still having an orgasm..." His voice significantly deeper. "Ughh...Me too...It's like...a regular orgasm...but it feels so small now...." "wait...I think this is our default feeling now..." "A constant wave of pleasure coursing through our gigatic, amazingly sexy bodies?" "Bodies formed by the combined will and thoughts of all humanity, painted across the fabric of space-time, in..." "Oh my god shut up..." And you wept. So close to your dreams. Jealous of what your friend got to experience. A friend who was probably more powerful than you could ever be. "Oh, hey....28 missed calles?"

Okay, Campers! Here's chapter 2 of Misfit. Once again, this is a blatant attempt to get you-all to buy my books at Divine Destinies.If this sordid mercantilism actually works, I just might post more original stories (have no fear, I'll post all chapters of Misfit, regardless. Just remember-- I have that private island to support). The next book is due out October 1. U. M. Lassiter Chapter 2 “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” Ham was slowly roused to consciousness by someone gently shaking his shoulder. He was laying face down, and as he became more aware, he realized that he was very comfortable, like he was in his own bed.In fact, he was. “Mmmm...” he groaned as he tried to turn away from whoever was trying wake him. “Ham, you’re gonna be late for class.” Class... school... dorm... that’s where he was. Not the library. Not the quantum lab. The quantum lab! Ham snapped awake with a violent start and started to roll over on his back. Something was wrong– very, very wrong. The lab, the explosion, his gay stalker– all those thoughts came rushing back. But there was something else wrong– he was naked. Ham never slept in the buff. It just seemed wrong on so many levels. He’d slept in pajamas until he’d hit puberty and he started having wet dreams, and then kept his briefs on under them. Eventually, he just slept in his underwear. He scrambled to pull the covers up to his neck as he rolled over to see Paul standing over his bed. “There’s our sleepy head,” Paul said with a smile. Ham had another problem– he had an erection harder than he’d ever felt in his life. He looked down at his tented bedclothes in horror and quickly raised his knees to obscure his rogue member. “Wh-what time is it?” “About eight-thirty,” Paul answered. “Don’t you have a class at nine?” “Oh, my god, you’re right.” Ham started to sit up in bed and realized once again he was naked. He gave Paul a nervous look. “Okay, okay,” Paul said and rolled his eyes. “I was just leaving. By the way, what time did you get in last night?” Ham gave him a stunned look. “You don’t know?” he asked shakily. “Huh-uh. Sarah didn’t leave ‘til about twelve-thirty. She was feeling kinda frisky,” Paul said with a smirk. “I guess I fell asleep about one. You get lucky or something?” “I don’t... I... no. I just had a lot of homework.” Paul gave him a wry look. “Okay. ‘Nuff said.” Paul scooped up his backpack and opened the door. “Just be careful, okay?” As soon as Paul left the room, Ham vaulted from his bed and threw the deadbolt. He breathed a mild sigh of relief before his attention was drawn to his erect cock. It was almost excruciatingly hard and looked bigger and redder and angrier than it ever had. Tentatively, he reached down and put his hand around it. He felt like an electric current shot from his groin throughout his entire body. He yanked his hand away as if he’d touched something burning hot and gasped. This was all just way too weird. He should have been killed last night, or at least badly injured by the explosion. And how did he get back to his own bed? Ham turned to face the full length mirror on the wall.Except for his very turgid cock, he looked just fine; not a mark on him. His pale, scrawny body was just the same as always, with his narrow, boney shoulders, sunken chest and stick-like limbs. He was used to morning wood, but nothing this extreme. Even his balls looked bigger. Usually he could get his cock to deflate by getting his mind on something else, but his fearsome erection showed no sign of abating. Once again he put his hand around it. This time, he was met with the most blinding, toe-curling orgasm of his life. Angels sang, waves crashed and all the planets aligned as he screamed and shot the largest load of his life all over the mirror. Ham collapsed in an incoherent heap on the floor even as he continued to blast the last bits of his copious man-juice around the room. As he lay there gasping for breath, there came an insistent knocking at the door. “Hey! You okay in there?” the voice shouted. “Oh yeah,” Ham said between gulps of air. “I’m just fine.” He heard receding footsteps out side the door and sat up. At last his aching cock was starting to deflate. “Oh, my god,” Ham said as pungent smell of his own spunk met his nostrils. It was everywhere. There were even a few splatters on the ceiling. He retrieved a dirty bath towel from the corner and started wiping down the mirror. “I’m gonna need another,” he said as he dropped the soiled towel to the floor. As Ham retrieved his bath robe from the wardrobe, he noticed his clothes from the night before in a pile on the floor. He put on the robe and bent down to pick up the clothes. As he picked them up, something seemed to move within the pile, and he dropped them and jumped back with a yelp. Warily, he reached down a took hold of the shirt by the sleeve, ready to shake out whatever sort of creature might be hiding in the folds. The folds didn’t contain any kind of bug or rodent. Instead, in the areas where the cloth was hidden, he saw the same sparkly black material from last night. “It did happen!” he told himself as he held the shirt up between two hands to get a better look. Within seconds of being exposed to light, the black materials seemed to evaporate like fog on a mirror. In less than a minute, the shirt was completely devoid of the material. “What the fuck?” Ham held up the pants, and the same thing happened. He carefully examined his socks, his underwear, even the windbreaker he was wearing last night, but not a trace of the material could be seen. Seriously doubting his sanity, Ham hurried off and took his shower, returning of course, with extra towels. He wiped up the rest of his mess, put on fresh clothes and headed off to class, surreptitiously burying his soiled towels at the bottom of the laundry bag on his way out. Ham was only a few minutes late for his calculus class, and the instructor ignored him as he entered and sat in the back. He still wasn’t used to the fact that in college, most of the instructors didn’t care if you were late, or even if you came to class. You were an adult, and you lived with the consequences of your actions. High school it ain’t. After class, he decided to swing by the Science Building and check on the lab. As he got close, he noticed a lot of activity near the entrance. As he drew nearer, he saw that the entrance was blocked with cones and yellow tape, and a hand-lettered sign said “Building Closed Today.” There were several men standing outside the door in white hazmat bunny suits. One of them was a grad student that Ham recognized. “What happened?” he asked. The grad student turned and smiled slightly. “One of Lofgren’s nutty experiments exploded in the middle of the night. Made a real mess.” “What kind of experiment?” “I don’t know,” he answered. “But they told us it wasn’t radioactive.” Ham turned and walked away, trying to get his head around what happened. How did he live through that explosion? How did he get back to the dorm? What was the stuff in the chamber? The whole thing made his head hurt. He made his way back across campus to the Student Union. He realized he missed breakfast, and suddenly he was famished. He rounded the corner of the Performing Arts building and ran smack into Lee. “Hey, Ham,” Lee said. “About last night. I hope I didn’t come off all creepy or anything.” “Well, yeah,” Ham said. “You kinda did.” “I’m sorry. I’m really not a stalker.” “Okay. Good. Fine. I really gotta go...” Ham turned to walk away and Lee took a step to block his escape “Listen,” he said, “why don’t we try coffee one more time?” Lee tipped his head forward and looked at Ham with raised eyebrows. As he looked back into those blue eye, almost imperceptibly Ham felt one of the tiny gears in his mind slip a cog. Ham’s stomach gurgled loudly and he was reminded that he was famished. He needed to eat. “Um, okay.” Lee smiled broadly and Ham felt another tiny gear slip. Those perfect white teeth framed by the cutest dimples seemed to blot out everything else for just a moment. Ham felt a stirring in his loins. He forced himself to look straight ahead as the pair walked over to the Student Union. When they got to the cafeteria at the Student Union, Ham was ravenous. Normally, he ate like a rabbit, but this time he ordered a patty melt with chili fries, and made two trips to the salad bar, as well. He washed it down with a vanilla shake and finished off with apple pie. Lee watched the spectacle with a mixture of amusement and disbelief as he ate his club sandwich. As he was finishing the last bites of pie, Ham at last felt sated. “How do you do that?” Lee asked somewhat incredulously. “What do you mean?” Ham was finally catching his breath. “Stay that skinny when you pack it away like that.” The last bite of pie was on Ham’s fork as he suddenly put on the brakes and took in his surroundings. Before him were the empty dishes from enough food to ordinarily last him two days. “I don’t, normally,” he said quietly. “I was just... really hungry.” Lee flashed his brilliant smile again and Ham swallowed hard. “Listen, Ham,” he said, “I like you, and I just want to be your friend.” He reached across the table and lightly touched Ham’s forearm. A tingle ran up Ham’s spine, but for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, he didn’t jerk his hand away. Instead, he stared at the alien appendage touching his own. “I was hoping maybe we could get together and do something. Maybe see a movie.” Ham opened his mouth, and with considerable effort, forced out a single word. “Okay.” Lee’s face broke into a dazzling smile and Ham felt his cock get painfully hard. “Great!” Lee said. “Listen, I’ve got to head to class, but I’ll call you.” Lee gathered up his books, gave Ham a friendly pat on the shoulder and left. Ham was left behind, trying to will his hard-on to go away. A few minutes later, Ham was soft enough that he could grab his bag and hurry back to the dorm. On the way, he couldn’t shake the image of Lee’s smiling face from his mind. He felt like he was in one of those cartoons where he had a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. The devil seemed to be winning. By the time he got back to the dorm, his raging hard-on was back. He locked the door, dropped his backpack to the floor and pulled down his pants. His cock seemed even bigger. He must be imagining it, he thought. Ham knew that Paul had classes all afternoon and lacrosse practice after that, and he fell back onto his bed with his pants and shorts still down around his ankles. He started stroking his engorged member and he felt that same electric thrill from when he jacked off that morning. As he was stroking, it felt like his cock was getting even harder, if that was possible. It seemed– no, that couldn’t be right– it was. It was bigger. He had trouble closing his hand around it, and that never happened before. He looked down and was shocked to see the he now had both hands around his cock and there was still room to spare. It had to be approaching ten inches, and the fat mushroom head was bigger and darker than he’d ever seen it. Whatever concerns Ham might of had about the situation were momentarily stamped out by the most intensely erotic sensations he’d ever felt. For the second time that day, Ham’s eyes crossed and his toes curled and he experienced the most intense, powerful and copious orgasm of his life. Blast after blast of hot spunk splattered against the ceiling and started raining down on him. After shooting his load for what seemed an interminable length of time, Ham’s body relaxed and he lay on the bed panting. “Holy shit,” Ham said to himself between breaths. He lay there with his eyes closed until he felt a large blob of man-juice land on his cheek. “Ugh,” he said as he sat up and wiped the blob from his cheek with his finger. Ham didn’t have any towels left, not even dirty ones, so he was forced to wipe himself off with his bedclothes. He pulled his pants back up, stripped the sheets from his bed, and stood on it to wipe off the ceiling. Fortunately, he had one set of clean sheets left. He wadded up the soiled sheets, stuffed them in the dirty pillowcase and hid them under the bed. As Ham was finishing making his bed, he was suddenly so overcome with fatigue, he felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He figured his late night together with all the stress he was under was finally catching up with him. The enormous lunch didn’t help either, he concluded. He didn’t have any classes that afternoon and he knew that Paul wouldn’t disturb him, so Ham curled up on top of his freshly made bed and took a nap. The lacrosse team was just finishing practice, and Paul trotted over to a familiar face on the sidelines “Hey, Hammie, you finally made it,” he said. Paul had been trying to get Ham to come to a lacrosse game all season. This was just a practice, but he’d take it. “Yeah,” Ham said, looking down at his feet self-consciously. “I had some free time.” “Come on and help me with my gear.” Paul led Ham back to the locker room. The men’s locker room was the most intimidating environment that Ham could imagine, but for some reason, he followed Paul inside to his locker. “Hold these, okay?” Paul thrust his helmet and stick into Ham’s hands and turned to start twirling the dial on his locker. “What made you change your mind?” Paul asked. “To come to practice, I mean?” “Um... I don’t know.” It was true. Ham couldn’t even remember how he came to be standing on the sidelines of the lacrosse field. “Okay,” Paul said with a half-smile. He took the helmet and stick from Ham and put them in the locker and started taking off his pads. Soon, Paul was standing there in just his jock strap. “I hate these things,” Paul said, reaching in for his cup. He casually tossed the cup on the shelf in the locker, pulled off the jockstrap and threw it in his gym bag. Ham realized that he was surrounded by naked men and looked down at the floor. “You been working out?” Paul asked. “Why do... what...” Ham stammered. He looked down at his forearms, and couldn’t believe his eyes. The were covered with veins and bulging with muscle. “What the hell...” “Looking good, Hammie,” Paul said with a smirk. “You should think about trying out for the team. Look at this...” Paul grabbed Ham’s wrist and brought it up a little higher than his head. Ham looked down at his arm and was shocked to see a baseball-sized ball of muscle where scrawny bicep was supposed to be. “You’ve been holding out on me,” Paul said as he squeezed Ham’s bicep with his other hand. As he did that, Ham’s shirt suddenly felt tight across the chest and shoulders. “Come on over here and let’s compare.” Paul led Ham by the wrist over to the big mirror above the sinks. “You’re almost as big as me,” Paul said. Ham was stunned by the image looking back at him. He was indeed almost as big as Paul. His shirt was stretched tight over a moderate but shapely pair of pecs, and his broader shoulders were straining the shoulder seams. Meanwhile, Ham’s lower body was also showing signs of growth. His normally baggy jeans were stretched tight around his thighs. “Do this,” Paul said, making a double-biceps pose. Ham raised his arms and he immediately heard the sound of tearing fabric. He watched in disbelief as his body expanded further. His sleeves started to pull away from his shoulders and his jeans split down the sides of both thighs. “Oh my god,” Ham uttered. “I take that back,” Paul said. “I think you really are as big as me. Take off your shirt.” Ham didn’t know what astounded him more– the fact that he was spontaneously growing, or the fact that Paul didn’t seem to think it was unusual. He reached back to pull his shirt off over his head and was immediately struck by how his muscles now crowded each other. He pulled his collar up over his head and immediately ran into trouble. His skin-tight shirt didn’t want to stretch past his broad shoulders. Ham pulled harder and the shirt started to move. Before he could get it more than half way off, there was a loud tearing noise and the tattered shirt came away in his hands. He stood there staring at the remnants of his shirt hanging loosely from his hands. “Yeah, you should definitely try out.” Ham turned to look at Paul and got another shock. They were eye-to-eye. Paul used to be four inches taller than Ham, but now they were both the same height. He looked back at the mirror. From the neck down, they could have been twins. Same broad shoulders, same thick neck, same meaty chest, same powerful arms. “How...” Before he could finish asking himself that question, he noticed that the other men in the locker room were gathering around him, and they too, were naked. Many of the men started touching Ham’s muscles and making moaning noises. A few of the men were bigger than Paul, and so too, Ham. Paul put his hands on Ham’s back and gently turned him around to face the group. Now the men crowded in around Ham and started touching and stroking his body. Everywhere someone touched, Ham started to feel a tingle. The tingling sensation built and built, and Ham soon noticed that his jeans were again getting tighter, and he soon heard more tearing of fabric as he split out of them. Someone pulled his destroyed jeans free of his adonis-like body and he saw that he was now as big as the biggest man there, in fact, maybe a little bigger. Freed from his clothing, his massive cock sprung to attention, even bigger than before. It was now a foot if it was an inch, and was thicker than ever. Without a word, the group of men parted in front of him to reveal Paul standing in front of him. Ham gasped at the beauty of Paul’s naked form, and he felt his erection swell ever larger, ever harder. Paul was erect, too, and he took a step forward and knelt down before him. “You are a god,” Paul said as he looked up into Ham’s eyes. He took Ham’s mighty tool with both hands and started to vigorously suck him off. Ham’s entire body went rigid as unbearable waves of pleasure went coursing through his very being. The crowd of jocks around him started to murmur, slowly at first. “Ham, Ham, Ham...” As the ecstasy began to build up in his loins and started spreading through his body, the chanting got louder and faster. “Ham! Ham! Ham!” Paul was more and more aggressive in his ministrations and was beginning to grunt loudly. The chanting was reaching a crescendo as Ham approached climax. “HAM! HAM! HAM!” Lightning struck for the third time that day as Ham experienced an explosive orgasm. Paul was knocked back on his ass as he was enrobed with Ham’s pearly essence. Ham threw his head back and roared like the alpha-male beast he knew he was, just before everything went blank. For the second time that day, Ham woke up naked. He sat up with a start in the darkened room and clutched at his throat. It was raw and painful, as if he’d been shouting at the top of his lungs for hours. He looked around the advancing gloom and spotted the familiar glowing red digits of his alarm clock on the night stand. It was a little after six in the evening. Ham knew immediately that he was hard again as he reached over and turned on the lamp. The dream had been so vivid that he half expected to find the same massive body he’d experienced in his subconscious, but it was not to be. He still had the same small, scrawny body he’d always had. Oh well; at least he hadn’t made a mess this time. How did he end up naked? Was he losing his mind? Ham swung his legs over on to the floor and sat up. He pondered this question as he waited for his cock to deflate. At least he woke up before Paul got in. Now where did his clothes go? He quickly spotted them in a pile on the floor at the foot of his bed. He reached over to pick the up, and got the shock of his life. They were torn to shreds.

It was never supposed to be like this. Things just went a little too far. Okay, way too far. The first thing you have to understand is that I'm not an idiot. I was just sympathetic to Kyle's plight. I remembered what it was like to be a little guy, just starting out at the gym, wondering why my muscles wouldn't grow when everyone else's gains seemed to be in overdrive. But I'd fixed all that. Got my diet in check, started really pushing myself hard, and after a few years of consistent work, I was sporting a good 180 pounds on my 5'9 frame. Not huge, but big. Big and hard. When I'd flex my arms, a solid, veiny orb like a softball would pop up, almost stretching my sleeves to the breaking point. You can bet that I showed those babies off when I went out to the clubs. Kyle, though, Kyle was a mess. My little buddy was only an inch shorter than I was, but he looked like he weighed half what I did. I was surprised when he told me he weighed about a buck thirty. In two years of working out, he'd gained precisely three pounds of muscle. Now, I know what you're thinking. He must have been making some sort of easy-to-fix rookie mistake, right? You'd be wrong. I'd been to his place countless times. His fridge was bursting with chicken breasts, healthy carbs, greens. You'd think he spent all of his time cooking, but that wouldn't have left him much time for the gym. And boy, did he put in his hours there. I'd gone with him a few times. He couldn't lift much, on account of being a twig, but he lifted hard and he never gave up. If I'd had half his dedication during my own transformation, I'd have been an Olympia competitor for sure. Not that I was into that. Hot guys, yes. Posing straps and fake tans, not so much. Anyway, my point is that Kyle was obsessed. He'd tried everything, from supplements to a bad round of steroids that had left him looking like a pimply teenager for a month or two. Then had come reiki, Eastern medicine, hypnosis. None of it had worked, but he kept trying. So it wasn't a huge surprise when he turned up at my place that day with his newest hare- brained scheme. "I've finally got it," he said, pushing past me and plopping down on my couch like he owned it. I didn't bother asking what he'd gotten. He had a little brown bag, the sort that you pack middle school lunches in. From the way he was cradling it in his hands, you'd think it was the fucking Precious. Kyle continued, as I'd expected he would. "So, what if I told you I'd been going about getting big the wrong way this whole time?" He was really cute when he got like this. I'd never tell him that. Beautiful green eyes, sharp features. That curly dark hair. But he wasn't my type. I liked my guys big and aggressive, and Kyle was small and--okay, I guess he could be a bit aggressive, but it was hard to take a guy that skinny seriously. "I'd say you're dumb," I said. "You do all the right stuff." His eyes lit up. "Exactly. I do everything right with my lifting and diet. But I'm like an architect trying to build the Taj Mahal with no marble." "I don't follow." "It's made out of marble. If he'd made it out of adobe, it wouldn't be--" "No, I get the metaphor, dummy, I just don't know what you mean," I said. He set the package down on my coffee table, fingers twitching as if they were loath to part with it. "What I'm saying is that my body's mud. It doesn't have the building blocks I need in order to get big." "Them's genetics," I said, not without sympathy. "I'd help you out if I could." "What a relief! I was hoping you'd say that." Kyle let out a whoosh of breath. Uh oh. "I've tried helping you lift, though, and your form is great. I just don't have that much time to--" He held up a hand. "This won't take any time at all, I promise. Just like a few minutes, if that." I sat down across from him, my skepticism not put off one bit by his promises. It wasn't that I didn't want to help him. I'd supported him over the years, encouraged him in the gym, given him new plans to try. At this point, I knew anything I did was just throwing good effort after bad. "What do you need?" I asked, trying to keep the resignation out of my voice. "I need to borrow a little of your muscle," he said. I blinked. "Borrow?" "Okay, take. But only a few pounds." "Are you feeling all right? I can call 911." "I'm serious." He snatched the bag from the table and pulled out a little test tube. Well, not a test tube. It was more ornate than that. A vial, I guess? Inside was a greyish sludge. It moved sluggishly as Kyle shook the glass container. "What's that?" I asked. "Grade-A weirdass shit," he said. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Try me." "So, there was this government test at Camp Pendleton back in the early 2000s, right? And--" "Nope. Stop. You're right. Don't believe you." He blushed. "What matters are the results. This shit changes you inside." "It looks like it's going to give you stomach cancer," I said. "It's not. The guy I got it from is reputable." "So there are reputable dealers of black market government test by- products, now?" He rolled his eyes. "Reputable-ish. Doesn't matter, though. You said you'd help." I sighed. "Help how?" "Like I said, this stuff changes you inside. I drink it. And then I have to... you know, touch you." "If you came over to hook up, you could've just said so," I said, jokingly undoing the knot securing my shorts. Yeah, we'd fucked a few times, but that was a long time ago. It wasn't like that between Kyle and me, really. He kept on going. "I don't know how it works, precisely. The guy who sold it to me had a lot of papers on the mechanics of it, but let's just say it's magic. I touch you, and it transfers some of your muscles to me." "That sounds pretty unbelievable. And kind of ridiculous. I mean, if it were true, no one would be able to have sex with you again, right?" "No, it only lasts for a little while. I checked," he said. He held up the vial to the light. Even when he wasn't moving it, the fluid inside kept moving, as if it was slightly alive. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?" I asked. "Dead serious." "It's not going to work. You know that, right?" "Then you have nothing to lose," he said. "Okay, maybe a few pounds." If there was one thing Kyle could do, it was sell his crazy. For just a moment, I actually considered what would happen if he was right, and the snake oil he was holding actually worked. "How much are you thinking? I just got my bench over 250." He shrugged. "A few pounds? Ten? Would ten be okay?" I considered it. Ten pounds would put him in the range of normal. And I'd still be pretty big. I could gain it back in a couple of months. There was also the fact that there was no way in hell that Kyle's sludge was going to do anything. "Make it fifteen," I said, getting up. Kyle's eyes lit up. "Wow, Mike, you're too generous!" He exploded from the couch and wrapped me in a hug, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Kyle, I don't want you to get your hopes up," I said, extricating myself from the embrace. A shadow of doubt passed over his face, but he forced a smile. "Hey, if it doesn't work, I'm only out ten grand, right?" "Ten grand!? Kyle! You have to return that shit and get your money--" It was too late. In the intervening heartbeats, he had uncapped the vial and taken a swig of its contents. There was not a drop left. "Tastes like shit," he said. "Feels funny." It had looked like shit, too. "You going to throw up?" I asked. His cheeks had a flush to them. It made his eyes seem unnaturally bright, like two cut emeralds. I reached for my cell, considered calling the hospital, just in case he keeled over from whatever he'd just drank. But he didn't look like the stuff was having any ill effects on him yet. "No, funny good. Like warm in my stomach." He let out a soft gasp. "I think I feel it working." "Okay," I said, putting my phone down. "So what do we do now?" Collecting his wits, he focused on me again. "Take your shirt off." I don't know why I went along with it. He probably could have touched me anywhere, like my wrist or my cheek. Without waiting to see if I had obeyed, he started stripping out of his own clothes, first his t-shirt and then his shorts, leaving him standing only in boxer briefs. I followed suit, but left my shorts on. Kyle's body struck me again with how totally unimpressive it was. He wasn't fat, not even skinny fat, but there just wasn't enough muscle tone to justify the hours he spent toiling in the gym. He had a smooth chest, flat as a pancake on both sides, with only the faintest divide to hint at where one pectoral ended and the other began. He had abs, but only the sort that small guys get because they don't have any body fat to hide the muscles. I guess the one thing you could say about Kyle's body was that he had a nice cock. At seven and a half inches, it was nearly as big as mine. Right then, it was tenting out his boxer briefs. "Maybe it's just black market Viagra," I said, flicking his cock gently. He moaned. "Oh, man, don't do that. Whatever it is, it's making me super horny." Seeing him so turned on was having a similar effect on me. My dick started waking up from its nap. I told Ol' One-Eye to go back to sleep, that there was nothing to see here. "So now you touch me?" I asked. My voice was suddenly hoarse. "Yeah," he said. "Like this." Kyle placed both of his hands gently on my chest. His palms were warm and damp, fingers trembling. Heedless of my commands, my dick kept lengthening, spurred on by the intimacy of the situation. I resigned myself to a full on boner. "What now?" I asked. "I think I feel something," he said. "Don't you?" "No, I--" But I did feel something. It was an electric tingle where his skin met mine, not precisely pleasant, but not painful either. As his hands lingered there, it grew in intensity. I felt a heady weariness piling up on me. All my limbs felt heavy, like I had just finished an incredible workout, or maybe like a few days of too little sleep were creeping up on me. I staggered. My arms reached out instinctually and I steadied myself by grabbing Kyle's skinny arms. What I felt made me pause. The electric buzz between us intensified. His biceps were small, but hard under my hands. I could feel the electricity buzzing through them, almost as if it was feeding them. The skin under my fingers shifted slightly, almost as if Kyle was flexing them, but he had barely moved. No, he was not tensing them at all. They were growing. It was a slow transformation. I would have missed it at a casual glance, but my eyes couldn't leave Kyle's swelling arm. It hardened as it grew, going from merely solid to feeling like rock in a matter of moments. Or minutes. I don't know how long I stared. As I watched, Kyle's abs started to reshape themselves. They tightened and drew in, slimming his already-thin waist. Or maybe it was just that his chest and back were growing broader. His lats started to flare out a little. The crease between his pecs deepened as the muscles themselves pushed outward slightly. Man, he was starting to look pretty good. Kyle pulled away. I stumbled, surprised by his sudden movement. At least he'd had the presence of mind. I'd found his transformation, however slight, to be hypnotic. Not to mention fucking hot. "Whoah," I said. "Whoah," said Kyle. He flexed his right arm. It had been a featureless noodle before, but a firm, goose-egg peak popped up. Kyle's fingers explored the hard muscle as if it was the only thing in the universe. I didn't blame him. It was easily thirteen or fourteen inches and shredded to the bone. "Looks good," I said. Kyle glanced up at me. His gaze took me in. His eyes widened. "Oh, shit," he said.