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  1. xythanshadow

    m/m Aaron And Tank

    Aaron and Tank had worked together for almost eight years. They both were in construction and good friends, but they looked the exact opposites of each other. Aaron was around 5’2’’ tall and chubby, weighing in at around 225 lbs. Tank was massive, 6’3’’ and 250 lbs, but all ripped muscle. Unbeknownst to Tank though, Aaron was gay. Tank was a proud musclebear and he worked nightly at the local gay strip bar, ironically called “The Cave”, but Aaron held on to the illusion of being straight, fearing ridicule and isolation from those he admired. Each day coming into work, Tank would stride up wearing close to nothing and he and Aaron would start to work. “Morning Aaron,” Tank says with a smile. “Morning Tank,” Aaron turns slightly to catch a glimpse of Tank’s body. It’s massive and hard, befitting a man of his genetic gifts. Tank is wearing no shirt, allowing his massive arms, swollen pecs and cut abs to be warmed by the morning sun. As he walks, Aaron sees Tank’s muscles bounce and flex, glistening in the light. Aaron adjusts himself slightly, trying not to get aroused by the sight of his fantasies. Tank stands next to Aaron, stretching out his massive muscles, preparing for today’s work while Aaron begins the conversation. “So how are you doing today big man?” “Pumped and hard as usual. Had a good night at the Cave last night.” “Really? I hear some interesting stuff happens down there.” “Yeah man, the stories I could tell you. You should come down and visit one day. I know it might not be what you’re into, but I guarantee it’ll be fun.” Aaron laughs, “Maybe one day man. I usually just go home after work and hit the gym at my house, then cook and stuff. I don’t go out much.” “Really? You’re working out now? How long have you been at it? A couple of months?” Aaron looks away from Tank and sighs. “What’s wrong man?” Tank leans over to his friend. “Oh nothing, hey man, you want a soda? I don’t drink them anymore and I have a ton.” “Sure man, I’ll take one. Why don’t you drink soda?” “I got some advice a while ago and I’m trying to stick to water and protein shakes.” Aaron pulls out a pre made shake and a Mt. Dew and tosses it up to Tank. Tank’s chest ripples a bit as he reacts to grab the soda. The two unlikely friends chat and work until they hear the lunch bell for their section. Tank is up and out like a flash, leaving Aaron behind. Aaron looks around and quickly picks up a sweat-stained towel used by Tank. Aaron sniffs the musky man-scent of Tank and sighs, instantly becoming hard. He quickly stuffs his treasure into his pack before grabbing his lunch and following Tank. Tank is already at the machines trying to decide what to eat. He’s dripping with sweat and is scratching his head, flexing the beautiful ball of muscle that resides in his arm. Aaron’s cock throbs a bit as he takes in this beautiful specimen of man that stands before him. Aaron looks around and notices no one else is there. He remembers that it’s Wednesday, and most of the crew heads out to eat. Aaron quickly shuffles to his seat, taking care to not expose his meat to Tank, who is busily mumbling about not enough meat in the vending machines. Aaron starts unpacking his lunch which consists of a few well grilled steaks and a protein shake. “Hey Tank, you want some of this?” Tank turns around and sees the huge slabs of cow sitting there and responds, “Sure man, if you got extras.” “Yeah man, I had left-overs from last night so I brought them to work. I know how much you eat so I knew I could give ‘em to ya.” Tank sits down opposite of Aaron as he slides over a paper plate and another soda. Tank tears ravenously into his hunk of meat while Aaron eats and drinks a little slower. “So, what kinda things happen at the Cave?” Aaron asks. “Oh you know,” Tank responds with a mouth full of beef, “you got your little guys, swimmer type builds, then your average guys, then people like me.” He flexes his arm in a single bi. “Some of the guys there like my type, big hairy and muscle-bound. But I’m not the biggest one there. There’s a guy that’s called Hammer. Dude’s friggen amazing. He’s almost 7’ tall and outweighs me by almost 75lbs. He’s saved me from a few ‘situations’ before.” Aaron stares at Tank as he goes through his tale. His modest 5’’ cock is throbbing hard, but is not visible beneath the loose clothing he wears. “What do you mean situations?” “Well, in clubs like that, you have a back room area. Well there was a guy bigger than me. I doubt he was stronger 'cause he did have a bit of fat, but he was incessant about getting me back there. He probably would’ve had his way if Hammer hadn’t stepped in. They eventually made their way to the back room. Boy, did they make some noise too.” Tank laughs and Aaron thinks about two mammoths fucking like that. If it was possible, he was getting harder. “I bet you make tons of cash between the floor and the back room.” “Oh no man, I don’t do the back room much. I know I could make a lot of money screwing the guys, but I’m just not into that. Besides, I make a lot just by waving the big guy around.” He smiled as he adjusted his package. Aaron remembered that The Cave is a full nude bar, and once again, his erection became painful. Aaron tried to focus on his meal, tearing away small pieces of the steak. “So what do you do after you leave here man?” “Hmmm?” “Well, you don’t hang out with any of the guys here, and I never recall you talking about a chick or anything. So what do you do with the rest of your time?” “Oh, well, I usually go home and cook up some food. Then after that I hit the weight room in my house. Then I shower and hit the bed around 9.” “That’s all man?” “Yup, that’s been the routine for a while now.” “Fuck man, you should get out and do more stuff. You have got to be bored out your mind.” “Not really, I just decided a while back that I was going to work toward a goal and not let myself get distracted.” “A goal? What is your goal that you can’t relax every once in a while? Aaron looks at Tank and sighs internally. Quickly changing the subject, Aaron asks, “Hey Tank, you want to come by my place this afternoon? I’m going to be grilling some more steaks and I wouldn’t mind sharing some with you. I know you got to go to the Cave tonight, but I could offer you a free dinner.” Tank scratches his head once again, absent mindedly flexing the huge 22’’ ball of muscle in his right arm. “Sure man, that sounds good.” “Good, I can get rid of some more of those sodas. 7:00 sound good for you?” “Yeah man, that sounds great. We better get back to work soon.” Aaron finishes up his steak, then tosses the two plates in the trash and washes out his glass. Tank was already walking back to their station and Aaron turned around to catch the beautiful bubble butt bounce back and forth, teasing him so much. “God, he is so perfect. I wish I was worthy of having that. But I’m too much of a fucking fat ass.” Aaron punches his left palm, but regains his composure and follows Tank back to work. The rest of the day is occupied by Tank’s stories of his time at the club. One particular story that keeps Aaron aroused is how Tank comments on how a large portion of the club follows him to the restroom every time he goes to take a leak. Aaron laughed at the joke, but internally lusted to see how thick the meat Tank was packing. His tight shorts revealed much, tracing an outline of a soft cock that was bigger than Aaron’s when he was fully hard, but Aaron was curious to see its full majesty. At then end of the day, Tank patted Aaron on the shoulder and leaves his station. Aaron sat and thought a little, looking around for anything left by his dream muscle guy. Seeing nothing, Aaron rushed home to clean up, prepare the grilling supplies, change and start his workout. Tank arrives early, around 6:30. He knocks on the door, bellowing his hellos. Hearing no response, he gently pushes the door. It is open, so he enters the house. He remembers how the house looked from the Christmas party Aaron held the year before, so Tank works his way to the living room, constantly saying, “Aaron, where are you buddy." He hears some music coming from a nearby room. Tank walks toward the sound and enters the doorway of Aaron’s weight room. He stands there as he watches Aaron lying on the bench press, attempting with all his might to eek out a couple of reps with a weight of 135lbs. Tank hears Aaron grunting and screaming, “Damn weights! You will not beat me! Fuck!” Tank speaks up a bit saying gently, “Aaron?” Aaron focuses on the voice of his idol and loses concentration on the weight he’s struggling with. The weight starts coming down and he is unable to really control it. “FUCK!” he screams as his arms give out to fatigue. In an instant, Tank is behind the rack and has a hand on the bar, curling it up. Aaron lies on the bench, exhausted and dejected. “Thanks man. I didn't want you to see me like this.” “It's fine...I'm used to seeing guys like this all the time,” Tank says as he easily racks the weight. “Yeah, but I bet they're not struggling with a weight you can lift with one hand.” “Nah, I've done this more than one time. Not all the guys are as big as I am” “I'm probably the weakest guy at work. You just don't know how that makes me feel.” Tank shrugs, “...I guess I don't...” He steps back a few paces. “I didn't mean to lash out at you man, it's just I saw Don, you know, little Don, at the gym the other day and he was benching 400. He's a fucking 18 year old and I'm 25 and can't do half that.” “It’ll be ok man, you’ll get up there eventually.” Tank pats Aaron on the shoulder and says, “So what’s for dinner man, I’m starving.” Aaron perks up a bit and says, “Got some nice T-bones man, the grill should be nice and warm right now.” The duo goes out to the kitchen, then to the backyard. Tank notices that the weight room seems to have more stuff in it than the other rooms combined. “This is where he spends his money,” Tank thinks to himself. They chat and grill four large steaks, and Aaron leads them back into the house. He places the seared slabs of mean on his round oak dinner table that seats four people, and then heads to the fridge as Tank sits down. “Care for a brew or a soda?” “I’ll take a soda man, better stay away from the brews until after work” Aaron grabs a soda from the fridge, and another pre made shake before sitting down to dine. Tank engages in most of the conversation, continuing his many tales from his job down at the Cave. “Want another steak man?” ”Sure.” Aaron slides the plate with the remaining two T-bones towards Tank, and then he gets up and places his plate in the sink. Before Tank can ask, Aaron states, “I know you’re a big guy, I made extra for you. One steak and one protein shake are enough for me.” Tank nods and goes back to eating as Aaron says, “I’ll be in the weight room, feel free to come in when you’re done. “Such a huge guy. I want him so bad, but he could never want me,” Aaron says to himself as he enters the weight room. He picks up the 20lb dumb bell and start struggling with bicep curls. Tank finishes eating and puts his plate in the sink. He then goes towards the weight room to join Aaron saying, “All done.” Aaron is too focused in struggling with the weight and talking to himself to see Tank at the door, “Gotta get big. Gotta be stronger. Gotta lose this fucking gut and put on some muscle. No one wants to fuck a fatty like me. Gotta get big” Aaron continues to chant the little mantra as Tank walks in slowly, “I finished...” Aaron looks at him with his eyes slightly watering, trying to curl the weight some more. “...are you okay?" Tank walks toward Aaron. He drops the weights on the floor then drops to his knees. “Aaron?” “I can't do it.” Aaron mumbles. “ what?” “I can't get big. I can't get strong.” “Yes you can...” “No Tank, I can't. I've been working out for 9 years now and haven't made any progress. You said it yourself, it looks like I've only been at it for a month.” Aaron lays his head on the floor. “I'll never be muscled and I'll never be able to get someone like you.” He starts to cry slightly while kneeling on the floor. "...what?" Tank quirks his eyebrow a little, walking toward Aaron again. Tank kneels in front of Aaron, lifting his head up to meet his gaze. “What have you been doing here man.” “Look at me. I'm just a short fat guy. You're like a god, huge and muscled. I've always wanted you but I'm too fat, you could never want me.” “...oh, why's that?” I smile a little “Ever since I met you and saw you lift that huge pallet up, I've wanted to be with you. So I started to work out, trying to get a little stronger. I knew I wouldn't grow like you, but I could get there. Then when I saw little Don at the gym, remebering the little kid that I helped get his ball from the tree lifting more than twice what I could, I knew I couldn't do this anymore. I didn't want you to find out like this man.” “ don't haffa impress me to get me to like you...” “Look at me though.” Aaron takes of his shirt. “There's nothing here but fat. I can poke my finger in my gut and never hit muscle.” Tank pokes Aaron’s stomach, “Well I think it's cute.” “You're just saying that to make me feel better.” “No, I'm not,” Tank says as he smiles at Aaron “Really?” Aaron looks Tank in the eyes. “Yea, really.” Aaron wipes away the tears a bit. “Thanks. But I still want to have more than what I have now. I just don't know what's wrong. When I said that all I do is lift and work, I was serious. I come straight home from work and work out until midnight, but I have yet to see results.” "Well it's not all about working out..." Tank comments. "Can you think of any reason I can work out for 8 years and not see any improvement?" “Have you been going out and having fun regularly? Not to mention ya gotta make sure your little buddy's getting some playtime” Tank smirks a little "Well no. I haven't even had sex or jerked off since I've started working out." "Dear lord!! No wonder..." "What?” “It helps to get the testosterone flowing, builds up the muscles bigger” “I've never thought about that. I just lifted every day and tried not to think about you.” "Yeah, that's why yer not getting any progress" Tank laugh a little “Boy do I feel silly. I've been trying to keep the little man down all these years.” “Well, now you'll hopefully start getting progress” Tank smiles and laughs a bit. “Ummm,” Aaron looks down at the floor. “...yes?” “Well, I don't know how to really say this...” “Go for it” “It's just that I, you know...” “...yes?” “ about you.” “You and all the customers down at the what?” “I seriously doubt they are like me.” Aaron points to a back room in the gym. “What?” Tank looks at it closed off room. “I don't know how you are going to feel about this when I show you” Aaron leads the way into a large back room and turns on the lights, revealing photos and other items that Tank owned or had. “I...I...uh...” Tank looks around, a bit taken back and stunned. “I knew I shouldn't have shown you,” Aaron quickly exits the room and heads back to the gym area. "Wow..." Tank stands among his shrine, shocked. Aaron sits on the bench and places his head in his head again. Tank turns back and looks at Aaron, “Trust me, you aren't the first” “I saw that look, you were horrified. You must hate me now." “Dude...I don't hate you. And believe me, there have been worse pictures of me,” Tank laughs a little and walks toward Aaron. “I've always have been into you. I tried not to show it, but I have always been entralled in your muscles. I would collect things you had, like this towel.” Aaron reaches in his bag and pulls out the towel he acquired earlier. “I would just sniff it, smelling your wonderful scent and then I would put it in the back. But I wouldn’t jack off. I wanted to grow huge so I would be deserving of you. I’ve never told you all this, but I’m gay.” Through the whole conversation, Tank listened intently. Aaron poured out his heart to him, telling him secrets that he had kept inside for years. After listening to him, Tank pulls him closer, embracing him in a huge hug. He feels Aaron rub his face into his barreled fur covered chest and he says, “It’s ok man, I know. I’ve always have liked you and I kinda suspected you were bi or gay. Don’t worry. I don’t think anything you’ve said is weird. I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.” “I didn’t think you would want me. Look at you. You’re a muscle god. I’m just a short fat guy.” Tank stands up and rips off his shorts, revealing his massive throbbing cock, then leans to pick up Aaron, “If I didn’t want you, would I be doing this?” And with that, Tank thrusts his tongue into Aaron’s mouth. Overcome with a wave of emotions ranging from fear to joy to lust, Aaron succumbs to the pleasure he found in Tanks massive grip. They explore each other’s mouth, Tank’s tongue overpowering and wrestling the more passive tongue of Aaron. After about five minutes of overwhelming passion, Aaron pulls back a bit and whispers, “I want you.” Tank lets Aaron go and sits down. Aaron goes up to Tank and ravenously begins to attack his muscles, licking and nibbling on them. He starts at the arms, licking the thick layer of hair that covers them, enthralling himself on the marble like muscle found beneath. Tank flexes a few times, making the muscles jump and Aaron whimpers in delight. Aaron then works his way to Tank’s chest. Aaron kneads the mounds of flesh like soft dough until Tank flexes, turning the flesh into hard muscle. Aaron gets even more aroused and starts to gently bite the beautiful quarter size nipples. Aaron’s cock throbs as he hears a moan escape Tank’s lips. Aaron continues to nibble as he runs his hands around Tank’s body, exploring his shoulders, arms and abs. Aaron looks up at Tank and sees pleasure in his eyes. Aaron decides that he wants more of this muscle god and goes to grip the iron shaft that he possesses. Placing one hand on it, he realizes he can barely grip the throbbing piece of meat. Not to be denied from his fantasies, Aaron grips the fuck pole with both hands, sliding them up and down. He thinks in his mind about how long the shaft is and comes to a conclusion that it has to be around 11 or 12 inches. He looks up and sees Tank enjoying himself greatly, so Aaron decides to continue. He places the tip of the head in the mouth, and clumsily at first, begins to work the head with his tongue. Aaron uses Tank’s moans and grunts as a guide and works hard to pleasure his muscle bear. Aaron is leaking pre cum in amazing amounts and his dick is throbbing relentlessly. He takes off his pants and shirt and resumes working on Tank’s cock. Tank leans forward and rubs Aaron gently and approvingly. Aaron tastes the sweet pre cum leak from Tank’s cock and he stops sucking long enough to say, “I want you to fuck me please.” Tank looks at Aaron, naked and begging to be fucked. “Are you sure you want this?” Aaron whimpers and nods. Tank gets up and picks up Aaron, lifting him off the ground with a passionate kiss. “I’ve wanted you for a while too. I’m glad you feel the same way.” Tank lays Aaron on the couch sliding his ass over the arm rest. He slowly works the butt muscles, loosening and relaxing them before slowly sliding a finger into his waiting hole. Aaron moans a bit, never experiencing anything like that. Tank slides two, then three, increasing the pressure and stimulation. Aaron wiggles slightly, his cock throbbing from years of pent up sexual repression. Tank then slides his fingers out and rubs his cock a bit, smearing his pre around for lubrication. Slowly but firmly, Tank guides the giant shaft into Aarons waiting hole. Aaron feels the huge meat penetrate him, and while it’s painful, it also feels so wonderful. Tank continues to apply the perfect amount of pressure to stuff Aaron full of his fuck stick while not hurting him. Soon, Aaron’s virgin hole is completely filled and Tanks massive balls rest upon his cheeks. Tank leans forward and kisses Aaron gently, whispering into his ear, “How does that feel?” Aaron leans back into Tank’s massive chest, whimpering delightful murmurs at Tank. Tank grabs Aaron by the shoulders and slides his cock out slowly, before forcefully ramming it back into Aaron. Aaron’s cock, which has been leaking this whole time, stands even firmer as the thickness and length of Tank pleasures him in ways he’s never felt. Tank spends an hour, slowly working over Aaron, fucking him in ways he’s never felt before Aaron and Tank could take no more. With one giant thrust and a roar that shook the walls, Tank shoots his load into the waiting ass of Aaron. Feeling himself fill with Tank’s super manhood, Aaron could no longer hold back the dam that has been building for 9 years. Aaron roars like Tank and tenses up, unleashing an enormous torrent of built up sperm. Tank pulls Aaron back to him, hugging him tightly as he shot load after load. But something was different about this. Tank swore to himself that he was feeling Aaron grown in his hug. Looking at his little buddy, he sees that with each clench of his ass as he shot built up sperm, it looked like the muscles were expanding, the fat melting and the skin was tightening. Aaron shoots and grows for almost 5 minutes, covering the couch with a such a thick coating of jizz that it look like someone spilled gallons of paint on it. After Aaron came down from his erotic high, he looks back at Tank who was looking at him curiously. Aaron says, “What are you looking at man?” Tank smiles lovingly at Aaron and says, “It looks like all you needed was a little release man.” Aaron stares confused at Tank as Tank leads him to a nearby mirror. Aaron jumps in shock when he sees himself. He stands now a hot ripped bodybuilder, his former size of 225 of fat seemingly melted away to reveal a cut and toned body, rivaling his idol Tank. Aaron flexes and poses, seeing how his new body reacts to it all. Tank stands behind him and leans over, grabbing Aaron’s cock, “That’s not the only thing that’s grown about you man.” Aaron looks down and sees his cock and balls, surprised at the amount they have grown. Everything about Aaron is bigger and better and he can barely control himself. Tank leans over and whispers in Aaron’s ear, “I think The Cave has just found a new dancer and I have a new on-stage partner.” Aaron’s cock twitches in response and a smile creeps across Aaron’s face.
  2. xythanshadow

    m/m Choice

    Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain,something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law ofEquivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one,and only, truth.— Alphonse Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist Choices. That’s all life boils down to. Choices. If you had mentioned anything like this or the law of Equivalent Exchange long ago in my ‘old life’ as I like to call it, I’d say you were crazy. But that was before I met Kaos. I used to be a loner. At the age of 15, I ran away from home. My parents were these conservative, mundane people. My father was an overbearing man, wanting me to do everything he never did. So even from a young age, he had me playing every sport under the sun. I ran, played baseball, football, soccer, hockey, martial arts, boxing, you name it. But I was small back then, thin weak and pathetic. My father hated that. Maybe he was seeing his disappointment about his life in me, but whatever it was, I took the brunt of it. I was abused whenever I failed at a task. If I didn’t hit the ball hard enough or run fast enough or beat my opponent, I was beaten at home or just yelled at. My mother just watched it all but didn’t do anything about it. I guess she was disappointed in me also. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stole my old man’s savings and ran. I found this guy selling this old hog, and I bought it. I hit the road and never looked back. I rode all across the country, never even thinking about the next day. If I needed money, I found some menial task that needed doing. I was a decent fighter, so that gave me money a lot, but I had no qualms about doing any hard work. Whatever you needed I would do. That’s how I lived my life for years. I didn’t even think there was another way to live until I met him. He was in this bar I was stopping by. I just got finished fighting for some cash with this biker gang and they invited me out to this place. Nice bunch of guys, real friendly and hardcore. Fucking huge too, the smallest one of them towered over me by almost a full foot. Although that’s not saying much, seeing as how I was 5’6’’ on a good day and maybe a wiry 150 lbs. Maybe that’s why I impressed them so much. I fought like a wild animal because I had to. So, we get to this bar and it’s damn hot. Everyone’s sweating like pigs and we order some cool brews. I’m looking around and there’s no one near my size. Everyone is huge compared to me, sitting in their sweat drenched shirts. I enjoyed seeing muscle in action, but I wasn’t gay. I just envied the huge guys. In truth, I wanted to be huge so I could really show my father who was in charge, but eventually I forgot all about vengeance. I desired the massive power and respect those guys had. I had to fight hard for mine while theirs came with the right glance. Now, I didn’t hate them at all for that though, it was more of envy between friends. Then I saw him. I didn’t know who he was, but he looked like a biker. Except he was titanic, bigger than anyone I’ve ever seen or would see. He was looking at me with a pair of inviting eyes. I stared at him for a few moments, taking all of him into my memory. He looked tall, even when sitting, and wide enough to take up two seats at the bar. His face was gruff and stern, with a 5’o clock shadow that would make any man proud. His neck bulged with veins as he knocked back a mug of beer. My eyes naturally led down to his arms which were just freaking amazing. I doubt I could fit both of my hands around his guns, no cannons. They were veiny, just like the rest of him, and looked like they could curl anything in the place without a struggle. He wore no shirt so I could see the shelf that was his chest. His massive pecs were covered in a large amount of hair and moved in and out as he breathed. He twisted slightly and I could see his massive lats and his abs ripple with supremacy. He smiled at me then flexed one of his massive arms. The veins jumped to attention and squirmed violently and I gave an approving ‘thumbs up’. He beckoned me to come over to drink with him and I humbly accepted. I sat down a few chairs away from him, not wanting to impose on his space and set down my brew. “’Sup little man,” he said with a voice that echoed in my head. This guy was like the manliest man I’ve ever met. “Nothing much bro. Tell me man, how in the hell did you get so huge?” I asked. “You like this muscle do you?” He flexed his huge gun and his massive pecs a few times as I respond, “Hell yeah man, I’ve always wanted to be huge.” “I know John.” I froze. “How in the hell did this man know my name?” I immediately stood up and started to back away, but my feet stopped moving. The massive man stood up, towering over me and I began to panic. I looked around the bar and it had seemed time had stopped for everyone. The pool balls on the table had stopped in mid-collision, the wild cheering of the other guys at the ball game, even the beer tap had all seemed to be frozen. I screamed at the giant, “What the fuck is going on!” He grinned at me and clapped his hands. Everything went black for a brief moment, then I found myself in an office type area. He was sitting behind a huge desk and I was in a comfortable chair. “I’d like you to watch something John. Just a little intro to what I’m about to tell you.” He turned on this TV near me and began to comment. “My name is Kaos,” he said as this anime music played. “I am an avatar of Chaos and I’m here to spice up things around here. Wait, here’s the part I want you to hear.” I listened to the TV as this kid’s voice said, “Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.” I looked back at the giant man with a look of confusion on my face. “We don’t know how the creator of this series got the idea for that law, but it’s highly accurate. Hell, one of my fellow avatars might have given it to him. But basically, I’ve come to offer you a deal.” I immediately said, “Hell no, I’m not going to have no deals with you evil bastards.” He chuckles a bit and responds, “You foolish mortals and your views of Good and Evil. Don’t you understand that Order and Chaos are not bound by those simplistic rules. Order and Chaos simply exist. We are neither good, nor evil. What I’m offering you is simply a chance to change your existance. We’ve done this for many people in the past, and we’ll continue to do it for people in the future, regardless of what you choose here today.” “Allow me to explain how everything works. The law of Equivalent Exchange, as that anime so quaintly puts it, is how everything is handled. We give people what they have desired most of all, but they have to give up something of equal worth. For example,” he says as he points to the screen, “Alexander gave up a life of old age to become a great conqueror. Most of the great professional bodybuilders gave up massive IQ’s to get their huge size. Even some of the bikers you met tonight gave up some things to get to where they were. Now, I offer the same to you. I can give you this body if you’re willing to give up what you hold most dear to you.” I examined his body for a few moments. He was the perfect speciment of man, standing at a even 7 feet tall. Ever muscle was standing at full attention with him doing nothing to stimulate them. Veins snaked down his entire body as he slowly ripped away his pants.His arms seemed colossal hanging from his expansive shoulders. His chest stood barreled before me, his pecs sitting upon it sculpted marble. His forearms were huge, fitting his upper arms well. They were vascular and hair flowed down them in a perfect manner, almost as if an artist specifically designed it. The same applied to his whole torso. It was covered with a layer of hair, not thick, but very distinct. It flowed from his arms down his chest but then narrowed at his perfect abs, which then led down to his huge cock. The beast he possessed seemed to still be sleeping, but hung at least 11 inches flaccid. This was also complimented by his massive legs. They seemingly guarded his massive meat like two giant pillars. They also were completely ripped and had little to no fat on them. Everything thing about him seemed to fit and it seemed that he was a perfect example of what I truly wanted to look like. Everyone would respect me then. No one would dare give me shit about any damned thing. I looked into his eyes which seemed to know what I was about to say. I asked, “And what do I hold dearest to me? I’ll be glad to give up my intelligence for a massive body like that.” “No, you don’t hold your intellect as your greatest treasure. I’m sorry my friend, for this, you will have to abandon the freedom you’ve come to love.” I stared at him in wonder, “So you’re saying I’m going to be in prison or some shit? I can handle that if I’m that size.” “Not quite. Here is the full deal. In exchange for this perfect physique, you will be bound to a man for all of his days. He will have complete dominion over you, and you will want to succumb to his every whim. He will be nice and gentle to you, and you will be respected by everyone you meet, but your inner most desire will always be to please him first. You will have the strength to do anything you want or anything he wants, but you will never be able to break the bond between you. You will have the strength and the power, but he will control you. You will remember this deal and all the details of this life, but you also will have memories for the new life I will give you. Oh, and if you didn’t catch it, you will be totally gay for him.” “He will be the master and you will be the slave. That is the price for this.” I gazed at him in complete shock. “Is that a fair deal,” I ask myself repeatedly. I sit for what seems like an hour contemplating my past and my future right now compared to what it could be. “I’ve never given a second thought about being gay, but if I was that size, what would it matter if I was gay. No one would say shit to me. Hell, guys and gals would be all over me. Isn’t that what I’ve always wanted? To be loved and respected. Yes, that is what I want. I always wanted to be loved.” The realization of that simple fact shocks me back to Kaos and he smiles as if he knows what I was thinking. I ask him, “There are no other strings involved, is there?” “No. That is the whole deal. Nothing more, nothing less.” “Ok. I accept your terms.” “I knew you would.” He clapped his hands and immediately my body began to tremble. The first thing I felt was extreme pain. It felt like I was being stretched to my limits. My bones felt like they were about to snap and I doubled over and fell out of my chair in agony. But even through the anguish, I could feel myself growing. My bones were growing longer and thicker, and even though the pain was imaginable, I was getting kind of anxious. After a few minutes of unending torture, it came to a sudden stop. I returned to a standing position, amazed at my new height. I looked down at my body, but it was even less than what I started with. My proportions just seemed elongated and at this 7 foot height, I looked like a distant cousin of a telephone pole. Kaos smiled, obviously examining the height increase before he clapped his hands again. This time, I felt my muscles beginning to swell. This feeling was amazing, like I was working out and getting the most amazing pump man has ever imagined. I could not help but flex my various muscles and feel them as they grew. Every motion provided more sensations and I soon found my arms feeling around my engorging muscles. I ran my hands across my arms, my favorite part of the human body, and felt as power was being driven into them. They swelled like balloons being slowly inflated with air. I felt my skin tighten as veins I’ve never seen started to thicken and work their way to the surface of my skin. My body began to take a slightly darker shade and became blemish free. Veins began to pop out all over my body as my body hair dissolved into nothingness. I did a double bicep pose, feeling even more swelling take place. Hair started to regrow in the exact pattern Kaos showed me, and I felt as it swirled around like an artist’s brushstroke. I felt my balls starting to get heavier and I looked down to see what was formerly a garden snake become a huge anaconda. My pride and joy was growing faster than my body and my boys became two huge mounds of testosterone producing machines. I felt my voice becoming deeper as I continued to grow and I let out a primal bellow. Soon, I had finished growing to my new size and I allowed my hands to explore as Kaos looked over his work. My hands found all new surprises as I felt every crevice, contour and indention in my now perfect body. I felt my head, now cut short with a buzz cut, then slowly worked my way down the trail of hair that followed my arms, my chest and down to my sculpted abs and smiled. Everything was more than perfect. I was damn sexy and huge. I hefted my meat in my hands and stroked it hard with a smile on my face. The monster grew and grew as it filled with blood, extending its influence to what seemed to be two feet in length. I laughed at the whole experience; I was more man than anyone could ever dream of. I flexed and posed, feeling myself with newfound admiration. Kaos stood there while I grew accustomed to my new body before interrupting me. “And now, for the exchange.” He clapped his hands one final time and my head started to burn as if someone was driving searing needles directly into my brain. My head started to flood with images of my new life and my master. My mind shifted to an extreme love of this man who was not even half the size I was. I knew that I loved him immensely and I loved his cock in my ass. I had memories of me carrying him around on my shoulders, lifting cars for him, uprooting trees, demolishing 12 guys that looked at my master wrong and hour long posing sessions before he would reward me with a good fucking. Even though his cock hard was only as long as mine was soft, I loved every moment of his gentle and brutal ramming of my ass. Closing my eyes, I took it all in, knowing that this was to be my new life. Kaos then transported me instantly into my new life and I never saw him again. Now, flexing here on this bear rug, waiting for my master to reward me, I think back on it all. Choice. It all came down to choice. That’s all there is to life, just a series of choices. If I had to make the choice over again, knowing what I know now, would I do it? Without a doubt. This post has been promoted to an article
  3. xythanshadow

    growth Muscle, Fur, And Vengence

    It was rare if I said I hated someone. But this guy I did. I hated him. With a burning passion that rivaled the sun, I truly disliked him. It wasn’t because how he looked. Sure he had a beautiful, rugged face and the body of a muscle god, but that wasn’t the reason I hated him. It was because he didn’t deserve it. I might not have the right to decide who deserves what, but screw that, he was too much of a pompous ass to be that lucky. And I would be the one to change it all for him. We were fourteen years old, but as different as can be. I was a typical nerd. Although I lacked the stereotypical glasses and pocket protector, I definitely was one. He was more than your stereotypical jock, always wearing the least he could to show off his physique. Constantly lifting, eating or bullying anyone he felt like. I was around 4’8” and maybe 80 lbs. He was at least 5’8” and had to be over 150 lbs. My body was frail and skinny while his was overflowing with muscle, from this bull-like neck, to his thick chest, his bulging arms, well-defined abs and trunk legs. I was an A student while he was failing all his classes but somehow passing. But I didn’t hate him for any of that. Hell, I knew a lot of jocks were similar to him. I didn’t like it, but I was a low man on the totem pole. Not much I could say about it. What sparked my hatred was something a lot deeper. While I never was a sporty kid, I could do ok in gym. I couldn’t do the hundreds of pushups and sit ups like the jocks, but I did around average. This day in gym though was a physical test. You had to finish a large list of physical activities and you couldn’t leave until they were done. Of course, the jocks blazed through them and got to leave quickly. A few others and I were pushed to the limits of our endurance and barely finished in an hour. We slowly trudged to the locker room to quickly change and get to our class in time. But once we entered the locker room, the door quickly shut behind us and we turned to see Rick blocking the door. He slowly swaggered up to us and started to taunt me and the two others that weren’t as fit as him. Sadly, I got the worst of it as my head barely reached his stomach. He was close to three times my size, bulging with muscle from playing sports since he was a toddler. Eventually, after taunting and bullying us, he shoved us into the pile of dirty uniforms and locked us in the laundry area. From the time that class was over until football practice started, we were trapped. I knew we were in trouble because one of the guys was complaining that his arm was hurt. I looked at it and I could tell it was dislocated. We were finally found and released, and something happened that pushed my rage over the limit. He was standing there in his jock strap, his package filling out the mesh fabric. With a cocky grin on his face and punching his palm at us, he looked at us and dared us to say anything. Of course, my two friends looked at the floor, but I returned his gaze with all the rage I felt. Then he said, “Looks like some babies fell in the laundry. Aww, and one of them has a boo-boo.” The whole room started laughing as the coach checked out my friend. “Ok little guy, we need to get you to the doc,” the coach said with concern in his voice. Most of the laughter in the room died down but Rick laughed even louder. I understood the law of the jungle, the biggest and strongest usually gets their way, but I vowed right there that I would make sure Rick paid, and pay dearly. I knew how I would have to exact vengeance. I had to become bigger and stronger. But the fact that I had genes geared more toward intellectual activities combined with Rick’s natural physical deposition made it impossible to get to where I wanted to be naturally. Thankfully, my father was a genetic engineer. His job interested me all the time, so I was able to read a few of his notes and knew vaguely what he was working on. In a nutshell, almost every aspect about a person can be tracked to a certain combination of chromosomes in that person. If you could alter these chromosomes, you could change a person, from their hair style to their tendency to learn and remember items. That was the key to my revenge. I spent the entire year studying my father’s work and even making improvements on it, without his knowledge of course. I could not risk him finding out why I was so interested in his job for fear he would attempt to sway me from my path. The whole year was rough for me though, and it constantly reminded me why I couldn’t stop. Rick was constantly growing bigger and stronger. He was becoming unstoppable. Plus he was the biggest homophobe I’ve ever seen. If someone was looking at him for a moment too long, he would make sure they felt pain, usually outside the range of a teacher or adult. I lost a half a dozen friends that year, all of them transferred to another school out of fear. It just deepened my rage toward him. It was sad that I felt so much hatred toward him. If he were a nice guy, he would have so many devoted followers, me included. Yes, I was one of those “fags” that he hated so much. I enjoyed looking at beautiful women and handsome men alike. He never caught on to me, but his body way very attractive. If only his attitude didn’t overshadow it so much. I had to sit and watch him become even sexier as the year went by. His clothes constantly got tighter as his arms, chest and legs grew and swell. But I also had to watch as his cockiness grew to where it couldn’t be contained. No one, except a teacher or a fellow jock, was safe. By the end of the year, he was 5’10’’ tall and pushing 180 lbs, as I heard quite often in gym class. Thankfully, the year ended and summer started. I spent part of my summer in my father’s shadow. I was absorbing as much knowledge as I could, unlocking the secrets to human potential. My father was so proud of how interested I was that he allowed me to see everything. Eventually, I had all the information I needed to carry out my plan. The plan was simple. My dad’s research center had the genetic information of thousands of people. Every type of body from small and skinny guys to massive bodybuilders was on file. Geniuses and average people, hairy, smooth, horse-hung, almost every type of characteristic was on file here. I would simply choose the best traits I could find and “upgrade” myself. But then, I thought of something even better. Why not change Rick while I’m at it? Sure, it was evil, but I didn’t give it a second thought. I prepared my batch first, since it was easiest. Using my hair as a DNA sample, I combined the genes of the tallest guy, a 7’1” pro basketball player, a 350 lb world champion powerlifter, a professional bodybuilder, a world famous porn star, and some other traits like body hair and other adjustments. From my calculations, I would eventually be amazing, and it would look all natural since I had yet to hit puberty. Rick’s changes on the other hand would be harder to do, but so worth it. I chose the smallest and geekiest guys I could find. I wanted him to become everything he hated. The genetic makeup of three exceptionally skinny and weak guys were combined with the desire to learn and some of the female data that was on file. He was going to go from super jock to estrogen-flooded nerd. I made sure that all his muscles would disappear and there would be no hair to be found, including the pubic region. Speaking of which, by the time the process was finished, he was sure to have no more than a two-inch cock when fully aroused. Then I went further. New research had shown that homosexual tendencies were genetic too. I went crazy with that knowledge and made sure that he would be so homosexually inclined, he would make a drag queen look like a Hell’s Angel. The final component was getting a sample of his DNA, a fresh hair from the root would do well. This was the biggest risk of all. I doubt he would figure out why I needed it, but if he caught me, who knows what would’ve happened. I knew that he spent everyday at the school’s gym. The guy was dedicated to say the least. It was sad that his good qualities were outweighed by his bad ones. Well, at least I would fix that. He would definitely be humble by the time this was all over. I went to the school one afternoon after 6 p.m. and hid out in the locker room. He was the only one still in the gym that late. Everyone besides the coach had left for the day and he was pumping away. I had to wait about an hour before he came in. He was topless and was wearing a pair of extremely tight shorts. The kid was ripped and pumped. Each muscle was glistening with sweat and full to bursting with blood. Seeing him like that did make me a bit hard, but I was there for a purpose. He got naked to shower and I could see him from my hiding place. His cock hung down a good six inches down his leg with a backdrop of lemon-sized balls. I could tell why he was so proud and cocky in the locker room. Not only did he have a physique to die for, he had a cock that rivaled most grown men. He went into the shower and while I was tempted to watch his huge body get wet and soapy, I stayed hidden. He came out after around ten minutes with a towel draped around his waist. He quickly dried off, granting me another view of his superior body before putting on a pair of shorts. He tossed his jock in the laundry basket, and then strolled out of the locker room. I waited a couple of minutes before quickly getting out of my hiding place. I went to the laundry, grabbed his jock and quickly found enough hairs for my purpose. I put them in a vial and stuffed them in my pocket before I felt a huge hand on my shoulder spinning me around. “What the fuck is this?” Rick’s voice bellowed, even deeper than I remembered. I had been caught. He grabbed the jock out of my hand and screamed, “What are you doing with my jock you little faggot?” When I didn’t answer him, he balled up his fist and punched me in my gut. I felt the wind rush out of me and dropped to my knees. “What were you doing you little bitch?” I couldn’t respond quick enough for him. He picked me up again with his free arm, lifting me up to his eye level with ease. “I bet I know what you were doing. You were wondering how a real man’s cock smelt, weren’t you,” he said while shaking the jock in my face. I shook my head no and he responded with a backhand across my face. “You want to smell this real man, don’t you faggot?” He shoved the jock into my face and pushed hard. While I might have enjoyed this some other time, right now I was terrified. He then dropped me to the ground and I fell backwards. I scrambled away from this monster only to find myself pinned against the lockers. I saw this cruel grin come across his face as he pulled down his shorts. “Bet you want to see how a real man tastes too, don’t you?” I shook my head as best I could, but he already had his huge tool out and had closed the distance between us. Standing me up and gripping me tightly so I couldn’t move, he stroked his monster hard. I sat there in awe and fear as I watched it swell with blood. It grew inch by inch until it was a rod of unyielding flesh, just as hard and powerful as the rest of him. I was slightly aroused and if this was voluntary, I would’ve gladly serviced it, but this wasn’t a dream. Instead, it was a nightmare. “You look like a woman, now I’m going to use you like a woman,” he growled and squeezed my shoulder till I had to scream in pain. Soon as I did, I felt my mouth fill with his huge meat. I tried to move my head back, but it was met with the unmovable steel lockers behind me. I was trapped, unstoppable flesh in front, unmovable wall behind me. He spent twenty minutes fucking my mouth against my will. I tried to bite it, but it was so big and hard that I couldn’t close my jaw properly and he squeezed my shoulder in response, hurting me. Then he would fuck my mouth even harder. Somehow I learned to deep throat his massive organ, otherwise I would’ve choked several times. Finally, he tensed up and started to shoot. I could feel the burning liquid pour down my throat and into my mouth. He pulled out and continued to fire white hot bursts of cum all over my face. I choked a little and wanted to spit it out, but he held me and forced me to swallow his huge load. He smiled at his physical conquest of me. He had forced me to become his bitch and was pleased at his easy victory. “You’re a good bitch cocksucker. I’ll have to keep you in mind when I’m horny.” He laughed and dropped me, after wiping his cock clean on my face, then tossed his jock in the laundry and said, “I better not catch you in here sniffing my shit. If you want to smell me, come get the real thing, and if I’m in a good mood, I might let you and not kick the shit out of you.” I remained there for a few moments letting my rage and fear wane. Once logic returned to me, I took out a spare vial, collected some of his cum, then washed my face and went back to the lab. I had all I needed to make sure Rick paid. Once back at the lab, I quickly mixed up the two concoctions, after making sure I was bigger, stronger and more aggressive than I had intended to be and Rick would be even smaller, weaker and more passive. I took both home and, before I went to sleep, put Rick’s into a school sports bottle and downed mine. I knew the process was going to be painful, but the next few days were hell. It felt like the worse case of flu known to man, but I knew that it was just my genetic structure remapping. Thankfully, since I had combined it with my original DNA, my body would not reject the changes. That was the key to the whole procedure succeeding. I discovered that my father’s colleagues missed it in all their trials. Sadly, he would have to figure that out for himself. If I had told him, he might have figured out what I was up to. After the sick feelings had passed, I went ahead with phase two. I snuck into school again, this time being a lot more careful. I went into the locker room while Rick was in the shower and switched his bottle with the one I had prepared. Ignoring the faint desire to catch a glimpse of his muscular body once again, I went home and thought about how things were going to change. It wasn’t even a month before I started to see a difference. In less than a week after I recovered, my body sprouted a thick layer of very nice black hair. It covered me from neck down to my chest, along my stomach, into my crotch and down my legs and arms. I knew already that it was working because my father was not a hairy man. There I was though, covered in a layer of fur that outdid even Rick. Plus, my hunger grew by leaps and bounds. I started to put away two, then three servings of dinner when I barely could eat one. My level of activity increased too. I could barely hold still. I would wake up in the morning and immediately do a few sets of pushups. It started with ten. Then I could do twenty, then the next day, thirty. It kept increasing until a week later I could do a hundred easily. I could feel the changes happening in my body. I was getting stronger and more athletic as each day went by. At the end of the month, my dad bought me an Olympic weight set and I asked him to contact the bodybuilder and powerlifter so I could get some advice. He didn’t see any problem with that, and in a few days, I had all the knowledge I would need to make the best out of my new gifts. They were glad to help, happy to know that I was as interested in their activities as I was in my father’s. Near the end of the summer, I had grew a foot and a half and increased my weight by almost 150 lbs. I was running every day, learning how to play baseball and football, even powerlifting thanks to visits from my new friend Felix. He was the powerlifter that was in the study and was interested enough in my progress to visit and help. Thanks to him, I was even stronger than I would’ve imagined. I was benching 185 lbs and squatting over 300 one month before school started. Both Felix and I were surprised at my gains. Even with my ‘adjustments’, I would not have guessed I could get so strong so quick. But something wasn’t right. My father wasn’t as surprised I was and I could tell he knew something. The day I found out why he wasn’t surprised I’ll never forget. I had just came out of the basement with Felix and headed to the fridge. My dad was looking at me as I strode over. I was shocked at how different we looked now and I became concerned with the thought of him catching on. Instead, he greeted me with a smile and asked me to sit down. “Son, I thought now would be the best time to tell you something important,” he started. I thought it was going to be one of those ‘birds and bees’ talk by how he was rubbing his hands together, but for some reason, it felt a little different. “I thought it would be best if you heard it from me. Steven…” he took a deep calming breath, “your mother and I aren’t your real parents.” I was almost floored. I slumped in the chair. How could the people who’ve raised me for thirteen years not have told me. He continued, “We thought it would be best to tell you now, seeing as how you’re hitting puberty. I’ve talked with your father and we’ve come to an understanding…” I blanked out after the words ‘talked with your father’. “My father?” “Yes Steven. You see, Felix is your biological father.” My jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me, right?” “No, I’m telling you the truth. Surely you’ve seen it yourself. You are by far hairier than me, plus you’re half a foot taller than me and still growing. You’ve read the research and you know that it’s highly unlikely that all the differences could come from our gene pool. We knew this day was going to come and now we want you to spend some time with your real father. Your mother and I are glad we could influence your life a bit, but you do need to get to know your dad.” He got up and walked over to the basement and opened the door. Standing behind it was Felix. Obviously, this was orchestrated from the beginning. “Treat him good or you’ll have me to answer to,” my dad threatened. If I were in a better position, that would’ve made me laugh, but I was lost in my thoughts. Felix walked over to me and placed his huge hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and I could see the love and care in his eyes. I knew that I did need to spend time with him. This man was my father just as much as the people I’ve been with for thirteen years. I had to find out what was the reason he felt he couldn’t raise me. My mother brought me my duffel bag with some clothes and I gave both of them a hug, noticing how different it felt now. I left my house followed by my massive dad, Felix. He led me to his massive Dodge Ram 3500 and I jumped in. He started driving and I stared out the window. A thought came unbidden across my mind that worried me beyond what just happened. All the adjustments I made to my genetic code was taking into account me growing up to be just like my dad normally. If I was going to be as big as Felix naturally, what would I look like with all the improvements I did? The car ride was uncomfortably silent and long. Felt like an eternity before we pulled up to this log cabin. I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t realize we were so deep in the woods. He grabbed my duffel bad and led the way in the house, with me following slowly behind him. The place looked massive on the inside and fairly modern compared to its external appearance. I walked in the door and he turned around and placed the bag on the floor. “So, can I get a hug from my son?” he asked in his gruff voice. I complied with him, feeling his powerful embrace. He let me go and started to speak. “I’m sure you have a ton of questions floating around your head and I promise that I’ll answer them all. I’m sure the first one is ‘Why?’. Let’s sit on the couch and I’ll explain.” I followed him to a comfortable black leather couch. I sat down and he sat not close to me but not far either. Seems we both had a lot of adjusting to do. “Well,” he began, “to start off, I did try to raise you a bit. Your mother died during childbirth and I kept you for almost a year. But I came to understand that a kid should have a normal family, and I definitely wasn’t that. So, I went to Samuel and asked him to take care of you. He agreed, but he wanted me to be there for you, especially when this time came around. I was informed of everything you did and was really pleased when you were interested in powerlifting like your old man here.” I saw a tear stream down this big man’s face as he brushed it aside. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you for so many years, but I promise I’ll do as much as I can.” I looked at this guy and knew deep down in my heart for the first time tonight that he was my father. I also broke down into tears and the wall between us disappeared as he quickly slid to me and wrapped me in his powerful arms. He held me in a hug until we both stopped crying. After our moment of bonding, my dad spoke up, “Well sport, how about some dinner?” I perked up almost immediately and he chuckled, “Yeah, you are definitely my son.” We both laughed at the joke and I followed him into the kitchen. I looked around the place as we walked. This cabin was a true bachelor’s pad. Just what a couple of guys need. No fancy curtains, throw pillows, or china, just a Spartan living environment. For some reason I felt very comfortable here. I guess that was a good thing since I probably was going to be living here. Felix went to the huge refrigerator and opened the double doors. Inside was the most meat I’ve seen in my entire life. Shelves and shelves of beef and steak was stuffed inside, along with various vegetables. He turned to me and said, “I’m sure you’re going to be serious about getting big, am I right?” I nodded in response. “Good man. Well, I’m going to show you how a real powerlifter eats. Think you can keep up?” I was about to respond when my stomach roared loudly. I looked down at it while my dad laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.” My dad retrieved four large steaks and a bag of broccoli out of the fridge. He showed me where all the cooking stuff was and how to operate the grill and veggie cooker. I was mildly surprised at the amount of preparation that was involved in a power lifter’s meal. Around half an hour later, we were dining on the best steak and broccoli I’ve ever had. My dad explained throughout the meal the benefits of nutrition as it pertained to power lifters. I thought I knew a lot, but the depth and scope he went into blew me away. I knew I had a lot more to learn, and now I had a dad that could guide me. After dinner, he showed me to the guest room, promising me that I would be able to get whatever I wanted in it later. It was bigger than my old room and had a nice size king bed with a set of plain white sheets and a wool blanket. Again, nothing fancy in the room, some oak furniture and a desk and chair was all that was in the room. He gave me a huge hug that lifted me off the floor, powerful and firm, and wished me a good night. I got dressed and jumped in the bed. It was quite comfortable. It was fairly firm, but had enough give and I was relaxed fairly quickly. But my mind wouldn’t let me sleep. Instead, I was going over the events of the day. From one family that I loved to a man that I had respected, adored and was attracted to. Still, the biggest thing that was on my mind was the future. I had not prepared for something as wild as this. I probably should’ve made sure my genes matched my father’s. But now I know my lineage is that of a 6’6’’ 350lb former world class powerlifter. Now, where would that leave me. I knew I was going to be huge, not just because of the training my new dad was giving me, but because of the knowledge my old dad left me with. My genes were probably the most advanced thing on the planet. If I were destined to be a little geeky guy when I grew up, my genetic modifications would’ve let me be as big as my new father. But that’s not the case. Instead, my potential is virtually unlimited. I couldn’t even fathom how big I was going to end up. It was quite possible that I would never stop growing. A titanic muscle monster, the largest and strongest man ever, it was all possibly in my reach. A couple of hours later, Morpheus was still eluding me, so I decided to get up and get a glass of water. The wood floor beneath my socked feet didn’t creak at all as I slowly made my way back to the kitchen. I was quiet because it had to be around midnight and I didn’t want to wake up my dad. A man that big though must sleep like a Kodiak bear though I thought to myself as I rounded the corner into the main area. As I approached, I noticed the warm lights of a television and a low murmur. When I turned the corner, I saw something that shocked and amazed me. My dad was watching porn, not just any porn, but gay porn. He was stretched out on the couch with his head toward me. I could gaze down his huge body, over his thick pecs, down his hairy belly and saw him working his meat like an expert as the guys on the T.V. went at it. The hairy and muscular top was working on pounding his smaller partner’s ass like a sledgehammer. The volume was cut down low, but you could still hear the slapping of the big guy’s nut sack against the tight ass of the little guy. I could hear my dad moaning softly as he slid his meaty hand up and down his cock and I started to get hard in my boxer shorts. I shifted my weight to lean against the doorframe so I could get more comfortable and was about to pull out my cock when the floor groaned loudly. My dad jumped up and turned quickly to see me standing in the doorway and he fumbled for the remote. “Um son! I..uh..I didn’t know you were awake!” he panicked as he pushed a button on the remote. But instead of turning the T.V. off, it went to max volume and the room was filled with the sounds of fucking. My dad’s jaw dropped and I couldn’t help but laugh. He calmed down and pressed the pause button, freezing the two muscle guys in mid orgasm. “That’s quite an interesting video you’re watching dad,” I joked. “Um…well, you know…I…um,” he stumbled. Then taking a deep breath, he sat back down and motioned for me to come over. I walked over, noticing how large his cock looked even soft. “Well, I knew I was going to have to tell you this sometime, but I wasn’t expecting this conversation would be preceded with this,” he waved at the big screen as I sat down. “I am a bear, son, I’m gay,” he muttered as he slid back down on the couch. “I’m hoping it doesn’t bother you too much, but I can understand if you aren’t comfortable with it.” I chuckled and responded, “It’s ok dad, I think I’m bisexual myself. I enjoy a beautiful woman, but those two on the TV are hot as well.” He exhaled deeply and relaxed a bit, “Whew, I’m glad to hear that. I thought that this was going to be a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. So, when did you realize it?” “Well, a couple of years ago,” I started, remembering the malice I felt but biting it back, “I met this guy that hit me in a way women didn’t. He had the muscle and the ruggedness and was attractive to me just like a beautiful woman.” My dad nodded a bit and replied, “So, did you ever…you know?” I recoiled, “Hell no dad, I’m still a virgin. Besides, this guy would pound me to a pulp for a lot less than hitting on him.” I could tell my voice had a bit more bile than I intended, but it was too late to take it back. My dad, thankfully, didn’t press the matter. “I found out after your mother died. I loved her so much and when she died, I thought I would never love again. Women didn’t appeal to me much any more. Sure, some were sexy and I kinda lusted after them, but it wasn’t love. In the end, it was a guy like that,” he pointed to the small guy on the screen “that showed me I still could love a person. I’m like you, I can appreciate a beautiful woman, but now I know that I love being with a guy that is furry and powerful like me. There’s something about the bear foreplay. The wrestling for dominance, the feel of muscle against muscle and then the ultimate conquest followed by hard, hot and rough fucking that appeals to me so much.” I could see his cock rising as he spoke, and mine was too. It was kinda weird, sitting with my dad, getting a boner, but for some reason, I didn’t feel as self-conscious as I thought I would have been. My dad looked at me in the glow of the T.V. and obviously saw my arousal. “Looks like you need to take care of something. I’ll leave ya alone to handle it.” He started to get up but I stopped him, “Umm, I wouldn’t mind you sticking around. Maybe you could show me some techniques.” I might have blushed also. Felix smiled and sat back down. I slipped out of my shirt and boxers and stood up before him. He smiled and said, “Looking real good there boy. You are getting a pretty good build so far, and you’re barely 15.” I nodded in response. “And look at that tool you’re sporting. You’re even bigger than I was when I was your age.” “How big are you now dad?” I had to ask. It was almost unrealistically thick and long. “The big boy here is a twelve-by-eight incher. Needless to say I was quite popular when I was young.” I sat down next to him and slowly reached my hand out. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but I felt the need to just touch it. My hand cautiously wrapped around his throbbing member and I looked up to see my dad smiling. “It’s ok boy, in here, we’re just two guys helping each other out.” My grip tightened around his hard cock. It was an amazing sensation, the feel of this huge man’s thick cock. It felt similar to mine except he had a few inches on me. Then I felt his hand on mine. I gasped aloud. My dad was an expert. His hands were rough from all the lifting he did, but it only added to the sensations. He grabbed the remote, resumed the porn and turned the volume to normal. We jerked each other off that night while watching his bear porn. Seems it was a wrestling video. I had to agree with my dad that it was very hot. My favorite scene was between two equally large bears. Just them standing there in their tight jeans, one holding the other in a massive bear hug and commanding the other to surrender, before dropping him and rolling around on the ground was amazingly sexy. I could feel my dad’s cock expand as his breathing got deeper. He was getting close just like I was. “C’mon son, let’s blow together. Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come.” His hand started to move faster, stroking the head of my penis. I matched him stroke for stroke as he expertly jerked me off. Soon, I was approaching the edge. I panted out how close I was and he said, “Shoot it for me boy, shoot a huge load.” I arched my back and released. I could feel my balls empty and I felt the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced. My dad shot at the same time, and I could see it spurt into the air just like mine. Almost simultaneously, our spunk fell down to our chests and spread slowly around. Then the second and third shots rained down on us. I felt my dad’s cock pulse in my hand as it spit his remaining jizz. It felt like an eternity in those few moments; me sitting there with my hand on my dad’s cock, his hand on mine, and both of us covered in warm cum. He reached over, rubbed my cum into my chest a bit, then took his hand, rubbed his and my cum into his furry chest, then rubbed my chest with the mix. “That was great dad, I loved it,” I said after I recovered a bit. “Yeah, you’re a little machine. Those balls of yours were full of spunk, but I think we need to shower now.” He stood up and reached out for me. I took his hand with confidence as he pulled me up into another massive bear hug. I enjoyed this man’s hugs more than anything. He led me to the master bathroom and handed me a towel and washcloth. He turned to leave and I asked, “Aren’t you going to take one too?” He smiled and said, “Yeah, right after you finished.” In what I considered a bold statement, I replied, “There’s plenty of room for both of us in here.” He smiled then came in the shower with me. He stood behind me and pressed his huge body against mine as he turned on the water. I felt his fur caressing my back as the warm water cascaded down us. He grabbed a cloth and a bar of soap and started to lather me up, holding me in a half hug as he washed the both of us. It was an amazing experience. I never knew a shower could be so sensual. I was falling so deeply for my dad and I could tell he felt something about me. We might not ever have sex, but moments like these were certainly in our reach. I washed his huge furry body, flicking his nipples and rubbing his swollen muscles. He moaned softly as I worshipped his huge body, then returned the favor. After a half hour of this, we got out, wrapped ourselves in a large, wooly towel. Quickly drying ourselves, we went into his bedroom. I was about to leave and head back to my room, but he held me on the shoulders and said, “Do you want to sleep here?” I smiled and said, “I’d love to dad.” He led me to the bed and picked me up and placed me in it, then followed. He snuggled close to me, placed his huge arm around me like a shield and covered both of us in a wool blanket. I pushed myself closer to his warm body and quickly fell asleep, wrapped in his powerful embrace. The next morning I awoke to find my dad’s huge cock working its way into my back. I reached back, grabbed it with my hand, and squeezed it, eliciting a moan from my father. He slowly woke up and smiled at me. “You better have something in mind if you plan on waking him up,” he said with laughter in his voice. I started to stroke it harder, but he stopped me. “As much as I would enjoy it, we have some work to do. We have to lift and eat before any fun.” I moaned my disapproval and he patted my head, “Don’t worry son, it’ll be worth it when you’re big like your dad. He swatted my bare ass and rushed me out of the bed, towards a day of hard lifting and muscle building. That’s how the last month of my summer went. We grew to become more than father and son and more than just friends. We had a bond that was indescribable. The love we felt for each was so amazing and by far the deepest connection I’ve ever felt. Each day, we lifted, ate, and enjoyed each other’s company. Sometimes we would walk in the woods, enjoying nature, other times we would sit on the couch with me wrapped in his arms. Some people might not have understood, but we loved each other as much as any couple could. Summer ended with me approaching 6’4” and 190 lbs, a far cry from my former 4’8” 80lbs self. I didn’t have a six pack or anything, but my stomach was mostly flat and hard as rock. I was growing a beard that needed me to shave every day if I didn’t want to look like my dad. My body hair was amazing also. It was jet black and poked out through my collar. Thick and curly, it spread over my chest, down my stomach and around my arms. Thankfully, it wasn’t too thick on my back, but a layer did cover it. I was getting bigger and stronger every week, thanks to my father. Plus, he trained me in ‘other’ subjects that I planned on using. Everything from sports to how best to top a guy was in my range of teaching. We went shopping for clothes and I let him pick out everything. I didn’t mind in the least letting my father decide what to wear, mainly because I knew he would dress me well. And I was right. We ended up going to a leather shop inside this bear bar. While I wouldn’t be allowed there at night, during the day was fine for our purposes. My dad bought me all kinds of leather gear, some suitable for school, some definitely for play. When I came out of the dressing room with a pair of leather chaps, a mesh jock and a leather harness on, I got woofs from not only my dad, but the store owner and his assistant. My dad walked up to me, still a lot bigger than me and grabbed me in a hug and a powerful kiss, “Damn, my son is a hot mother fucker.” “It’s all because of you dad, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,” I said while hugging him back with all my strength. We finished trying on clothes and the store owner asked us to come in later to pose for some pictures. He said that we were the best looking daddy and son bears that have ever come into his shop. He offered our clothing free of charge if we posed for some pictures for his catalog. We agreed and set a time for later in the week. The photo shoot went well. But all that leather and bear muscle was a bit too much for him, and it eventually turned into an orgy with my dad fucking him as he sucked my cock. While it felt amazing, I kinda envied the shop owner because he was getting fucked by my dad’s huge ramrod. After fucking the shopkeeper to exhaustion, then waiting for him to wake up, he offered us a deal that we would get any new leather gear free as long as we posed in it for him and his catalog. We growled seductively at him and agreed. Finally, the day I was waiting for arrived, the first day of school. I decided to wear my dad’s favorite outfit: a sleeveless Underarmor shirt, a pair of black leather pants, combat boots and a pair of chrome shades. We were almost late because of how hot it made my dad. But we got their in one piece, albeit hard and horny. Not a single person recognized me at my school. Everyone thought I was a new student until my remaining friends heard me answer the roll call. Then I was bombarded with stuff like ‘What happened to you?’ and ‘You can’t be real!’ and the like. But I pulled out my wallet and showed them what happened over the last three months and, while still surprised, they started to believe and congratulate me. Rick wasn’t in any of my morning classes I found out, but I was almost positive we would be in the same gym class again. I wasn’t sure of what to expect. The waiting was torture as I glided effortlessly through the day. I was amazed at the ease maneuvering was now compared to when I was a smaller guy. Plus the looks I got from both guys and girls was thrilling. It was as if everyone knew that I was turning into an alpha male. But this alpha was different than guys like Rick. I was never going to flaunt my status. I didn’t forget my friends even when the jocks asked me to sit with them at lunch. It kinda saddened me that I wouldn’t be able to help them like I helped myself, but at least me hanging out with them would raise them a couple of ranks in the social ladder. Finally, the moment I had been waiting for all day had arrived. I raced to the locker room, stripped down to my jock strap, and waited. I watched as the guys filtered in and caught a glimpse of me. I could tell by how they were looking at me that some of them were indifferent, some of them were envious, and some were aroused. But I didn’t see Rick come in. Either he didn’t show up, he had changed so dramatically that I didn’t recognize him, or he didn’t have the same gym class as me. Only one way to be sure though. I put on my tank top and gym shorts and headed out to the gym floor. The coach was the same guy that rescued us from the laundry so long ago. I smiled because he didn’t recognize me either. He got to my name and when he heard my baritone respond, he looked up and his eyes bulged out. “Steven? Boy, you sure did shoot up and fill out over the summer. I expect to see you at football tryouts,” he said with an authoritative tone. I was personally surprised that he remembered me, but then it was always said that the coach cared about everyone, even if they didn’t play. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Rick’s name and a shrill voice responded? I turned to look down the line to see the new Rick. He had shrunk a good bit since the last time I saw him. During the summer, he was 5’10’’ and almost 200 lbs, but now he was 5’5’’ and maybe 125. Coach looked at him with a raised eyebrow and said, “What happened to ya boy?” “I got sick during the summer. Was in bed for a month. Doctor said I should be getting better but he can’t figure out why I’m getting shorter.” I couldn’t help but smirk. The genetic modifications were working well, so well that nothing even showed up when he went to the doctor. And this was only the beginning. After roll was called, coach had us run around the indoor track five times. Last year, this would always tire me out after the third lap, but this time, my pace was increasing until I lapped half of the class. I smiled as I noticed Rick near the back of the pack, panting heavily. I ran backwards a little and said, “What’s wrong Rick, this is easy stuff.” He panted harder as he tried to respond, but I turned around and sprinted the final lap, coming to a stop next to the coach. He patted me on the shoulder and said, “Good job, quite a turn around from last year.” I smiled at him and said, “Thanks coach, my dad had a lot to with my turn around.” “I’m glad. It’s always a good thing to see a kid come into his own.” He squeezed my shoulder slightly, looking at me with approval in his eyes. “Now, you’re going to play football this year right? I’m sure we can use you as a running back.” I smiled and responded, “I’ll probably play as long as it doesn’t interfere with my lifting. I plan on getting a lot bigger coach. I’m going to follow in his footsteps.” “But isn’t your dad a scientist? He didn’t look anywhere near your size last time I saw him.” Again, coach shocked me that he remembered my parents. I smiled; this man truly did care about his students. My respect for him grew a ton. “I found out over the summer that he was just my adopted parents. My father is really Felix Fidelibus.” “You’re kidding me? You’re old Bus’s son?!” coach exclaimed. “Who?” “Oh man, if you’re really Bus’s son, I expect a lot from you.” “What are you talking about coach? “I’ll explain later, just meet me for football tryouts and I’ll fill ya in. Damn, Felix Fidelibus’s son right under my nose.” I wanted to continue the conversation, but coach shooed me back into line for class. As I was walking back, I noticed Rick about to collapse, just like my friends were last year. It made me feel good to see him suffering like that. The rest of gym went by fairly quick. All we did was a bit of calisthenics. Of course, I breezed through them while Rick struggled. It was a delicious reversal of fortune. I don’t think Rick even realized how much he lost until that day. Sadly, I didn’t have time to gloat as much because class ended fairly quickly and I had to get to my last class of the day. Thankfully though, that wouldn’t be the last time I saw Rick. That afternoon, football tryouts were to start at five. I didn’t have enough time to go home and come back, so I decided to hit the gym. I went to the locker room, changed back into my gym clothes and headed to the gym. But as I walked into the gym, I was greeted with the best sight I could’ve imagined outside of a muscle bear orgy. Rick was lying on the bench struggling with 65 lbs. The amount of effort that he was giving it was tremendous, but his new muscles refused to respond and lift the weight. He racked the bar and laid there, wondering what was wrong with him. I then strode in the main area. He sat up to look at me and I gave him an arrogant smile. I then walked causally to a nearby bench, making sure to keep his attention. I wanted to see if the last part of his adjustment had took hold, so I was doing my best to be teasing yet casual. I put two 45’s on each side and started to stretch. I kept glancing at the mirror to see if he was looking, and sure enough, he was staring at me. I’m sure the tight gym shorts and sleeveless shirt had a lot to do with it, but I was almost sure that he was gay now. But I continued acting like I didn’t notice. I slowly laid on the bench and did a flawless set of presses, the 225 pounds being my warm up weight since I’ve been working with my dad. I sat back up and glanced Rick’s way. I noticed his eyes were fixated on me, more specifically my building muscle. I smiled and said, “Hey Rick, why don’t you come help me out?” Rick snapped out of his trance and stumbled over to my bench. I could see the beginnings of a hard-on and decided to press the situation. “Put some 25’s on here,” I ordered. I smiled inside when I saw him snap to attention and obey instantly. “Yes, everything’s going perfectly,” I thought to myself. After he put the weight on the bar, with a little difficulty, he stood off to the side. “How are you going to spot me from way over there?” I questioned him. He muttered a quick “Sorry” and moved into position. I laid back down and did another set. I kept my eyes on him the whole time as he watched my chest work against the weight. After thirteen reps, I racked the weight and sat back up. Rick was mesmerized. I smiled coyly at him and he quickly turned away, blushing. I looked at the clock and saw I still had about 30 minutes before people would be coming in for football tryouts. So, to taunt Rick some more, I went through a quick chest workout, making Rick change out the weights. I constantly tossed in comments like, “I need something a little heavier” or “This is how a real man lifts.” I enjoyed the looks of desire I got from him, but he was still fighting his new tendencies. Finally, it was getting close to time for tryouts and I had to get ready for football. I ordered Rick to clean up and he obeyed without even thinking. I smiled to myself thinking of how submissive he had become and headed up to the field to warm up some more before the rest of the guys got there. Coach was already there even though it was twenty minutes before tryouts were to begin. He spotted me and called me over. I trotted up to him and he smiled, “God boy, you remind me so much of Bus. Always working hard to get better. I knew you would be here early but damn if you weren’t already pounding away in the weight room.” “How do you know my father?” I wondered aloud. “Follow me.” He led me back into the weight room, then to his office. Once in there, he closed the door and sat at his desk. I sat down opposite of him and he reached into a drawer and pulled out an old yearbook. He opened it to the teams sport section and turned it to me. Pointing at it, he said, “This was me, and this was ol’ Bus. We were both defensive linemen way back in the day. Your dad was like unstoppable back then. He was about a couple of inches taller but he was like 280lbs. He could run through almost anyone. I was about 220 back then and I was good, but your dad was the man. Our defense was crazy for the four years we played. You’re a lot like him. I can tell you’re a natural athlete and a hella hard worker. I’m really expecting a lot from ya. And just so you know, I’m going to push you a lot harder than these other kids. Don’t take it personally, but I doubt they could handle it, and knowing your old man, you’re used to it by now.” I smiled and reached out my hand, “You got a deal coach. Push me as hard as you want to. I’ll take all you got and come back for more.” He laughed heartily, took my hand in his, and shook it mightily. “Deal,” he said. “Now I want ten laps around the track. Move your ass!” I laughed as I got up and he slapped me on the ass and chased me out. I went to the track and started my laps only to find that Coach was right along side me. “Oh, by the way, if I beat you, that’s ten more laps,” he chuckled. “You’re on coach!” I responded with a huge grin on my face. I picked up my pace a little and found that Coach was keeping up. Then he would pick up his pace and force me to catch up. This kept going on until the last lap where we were sprinting. I beat him by a few inches and he patted me on the shoulder. “Good going son, I knew I was right about you.” I was slightly out of breath, but beaming at the praise he was giving me. “Now, we got about five minutes before we start and people should be coming. I want pushups ‘till then. Show these guys that you’re serious. I growled in approval and dropped to the ground and started pumping out pushups as people started coming in. I could tell Coach was proud of my endurance and determination. I felt like I was a show piece for him as he called a few of the guys that came around ‘lazy asses’ and that they should be working hard just like me. It made me feel good. After everyone arrived, Coach took them through a warm-up, telling me to catch my breath a bit. After the warm ups, Coach split up the field. He had the guys trying for quarterback, running backs and kickers to move to one area, defensive backs and ends to one area and linemen in a third. But I didn’t move. Coach came up to me, “What’s wrong Jr. Bus?” I was about to respond, but the name ‘Jr. Bus’ stunned me. “Junior Bus?” “Yeah, that’s you. At least you’ll be that in my eyes.” “Thanks Coach.” “Now, why aren’t you over there with the qbs?” “Oh that. Well Coach, I wanted to do both running back and the position my dad played.” “Shit man, you wanna run both sides? Fuck, I thought you were good, but if you can pull this off, damn!” “So can I try?” “Fuck yeah kid, let’s see how it goes. Do running back first, then after you finish, trot your ass on over to the linemen.” “Yes sir!” I shouted as I ran over to the offense tryouts. A couple of hours later, I had passed both tryouts with flying colors and was still full of energy when all was said and done. Coach pulled me to the side as I was heading to the locker room. “You did great out there today. I know I’m not going to be disappointed in you these next four years you’re playing. Good thing you came along. We lost a couple of people I was hoping would play this year. Oh well, doubt they would’ve been as good as you.” I blushed a bit as he continued, “I want you to talk to Bus and see if he will volunteer to be the defensive line coach. If I had knew he was still around, I would’ve asked myself. Also, tell that big lug that we need to hit up a bar sometime and catch up.” I nodded and continued back to the shower. After cleaning up real quick, I headed to wait for my dad. He arrived right on time and I hopped into his bear-sized truck. As we were driving away, I noticed a small figure in the shadows watching us drive away and realized it was Rick. I smiled to myself as the truck roared away from the school. My dad agreed to become a volunteer coach. He said that he owed it to Coach, plus he could really help me follow in his footsteps. In addition, it would save us time since we could just hit the weight room right after school. Every day after that day was amazing. I was pushed hard on the field and in the gym by Coach and dad. But the harder they pushed, the stronger I felt. I never tired of their training. I wanted it all bad. I knew that it all would help me grow stronger, and it did. I was constantly growing, swelling with new muscle almost every week. By the end of our undefeated season, I was a starter on both sides, and I was close to 250 lbs of hard bear muscle. My chest and shoulders were getting so wide I had to have special pads shipped in. I could curl over 200 lbs for reps. I was squatting 500 lbs with my dad. All his powerlifting training was doing great things for my body. I was becoming a titan in the gym; fifteen years old and out lifting everyone else. I got a little resentment from some of the guys, but it was all in jest. I was a hard worker and everyone saw it. Before the semi-finals of our season, I was in the weight room as usual. Dad was going to be at the game tonight, so I decided to stay at the school and hit the iron again. Again, I found Rick in there. I never saw him at school anymore, nor did I see him in the gym when anyone was around, but I knew he was here often, trying to lift. By now, while I had grown to 6’6’’, he had shrunk to 5’1’’ and weighted no more than 70lbs. I also heard that he was doing amazingly well in his classes now that he wasn’t playing sports, to the point where he was an honor roll student. He immediately froze when he heard my 250 lb bulk thunder into the room. Rick scrambled away from the bar that had no weight on it. I smirked as I knew he was having difficulty benching 45lbs when I was doing around 300. But instead of the bench, I went to the dumbbells. I picked up the hundreds and stood slightly akimbo. Smiling, I started cranking out the reps, glancing every now and again to catch Rick staring at me with his mouth wide open. “You seem to like what you see Rick,” I started. He blushed a bit more as I continued my monologue. “Boy, I don’t have anything to do for an hour while I wait for the game to start. I think I’ll go sit in the locker room for a while. Get out of these clothes for a bit and relax. I don’t think anyone’s in there to bother me either. Just me all by myself in my jock strap.” I racked the weights and then stretched, making sure to flex all my muscles before walking out of the weight room. I did as I said and went to the locker room, stripped down to my jock strap, laid on a bench, and closed my eyes. Around five minutes later, I heard the door open and a pair of soft feet walk in. I didn’t even bother opening my eyes as I knew who it was. He stopped near me and I could hear his heavy breathing. I locked my hands behind my head and flexed my biceps. He gasped aloud and I chuckled. “Enough playing,” I said to myself as I opened my eyes. Rick was standing there, still entranced with my physique. I stood to my full height and looked down on him. “What are you doing?” I growled at him. He stammered and backed up, obviously scared of the sudden turn of events. “Were you watching me? Of course you were. You’re just a little faggot that wants to see how a real man looks. Aren’t ya?” He was frozen in fear. I’m sure he was remembering a similar situation that happened months ago. I grabbed him by the shoulder and pinned him against the wall. “You used to be so big and bad. Now look at you. Just a little faggot. I bet you just want to suck my cock don’t you,” I said with as much malice as I could conjure. I slipped my jock strap under my balls and pushed my cock forward a bit. It had grown to about nine inches since the summer, but still a far cry from my dad’s weapon. I released him from my grip and said, “I’m not even going to force you to suck it. I know you can’t resist this huge cock.” I took my free hand and stroked it a little, causing blood to start rushing into it. Rick’s eyes widened as my beast woke up. He turned and ran a little towards the door, but stopped. He looked back, then out the door, and back at me again. He sighed and slowly walked back to me. “On your knees bitch!” I ordered when he approached me. He slowly dropped to his knees as my ramrod reached full mast. “Well bitch, what do you want?” “I want your cock,” he whispered. I took my steel-like meat and slapped him across the face with it. It left a red mark on his right cheek as I roared, “You will refer to me as sir when you speak to me!” He shuddered and crumpled a little before responding, “Yes sir.” I smiled and repeated my question, “I didn’t hear you. What do you want?” “I want to have your cock sir,” he muttered. “Speak up!” I yelled. “I want to have your cock sir!” he answered back. “You want this cock to fill your mouth, don’t you,” I said. “You want me to fuck your mouth and shoot my hot load down your throat, don’t you bitch?” “Yes sir, I need to feel your meat in my mouth and your seed in my belly,” he responded partly aroused, partly broken. That’s when I knew I had him where I wanted him. I got closer to him and slapped him a few more times with my cock and watched him try to get a taste of it as it flew by. Then I grabbed him by his ears and shoved the length of my cock into his mouth. He gagged a couple of times before I slid it out partially. “You better swallow this meat or it’ll choke you, bitch. Learn to suck my cock properly, or else!” I threatened as I pounded my stiff pole into his mouth. I felt his throat close up slightly, but my cock and thrusting was hundreds of times more powerful than his weak throat. Eventually, it opened up and allowed me to shove the entire length into his maw. My balls were flush against his chin and I stopped to allow him to become accustomed to the feeling. Then I started fucking his mouth. I used every bit of leverage I could get to slam my cock into his throat. His eyes were watering from the force of my thrusts, but I was relentless. I put every ounce of my anger and resentment into my brutal face fucking. I tugged on his ears and slammed my crotch into his face repeatedly as my cock worked its way into his throat. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of my pleasure, I tensed up and emptied a huge load down his throat. The first and second shots fired directly down his throat. The third, fourth and fifth shots filled his mouth completely. When I had stopped shooting, I pulled out my still thick cock and wiped it clean on his face as he swallowed my load. “You’re mine now bitch. I own you, and don’t you ever forget it,” I snarled at him. “Now get out of here, I have to get ready for football. I might let you have some more of this some other day. You’re a decent cocksucker.” I pulled up my jock and stuffed my cock back into the pouch as Rick trudged out of the locker room. A smile crept across my face as I thought about how humiliated he was feeling. Oh, the delicious irony, forced to suck the cock of the kid you teased not a year ago, and liking it. Oh yes, he liked it. Even through the humiliation, I could tell he was going to come back begging for some more. And he did. After that day, he began a ritual. Before every game, he would wait for me in the locker room. He would get on his knees and beg me to shove my meat into his mouth. I would humiliate him a bit, then fuck his throat mercilessly. He was completely submissive to me and served well as my personal slut. At home, life got even better as I grew and grew. My dad and I got to the point where we finally fucked each other. We ended up wrestling for dominance, and he won first. He rammed his thick cock into my ass and it was the best feeling I’ve ever experienced. He fucked me for an hour before shooting his creamy load up my ass. Then I returned the favor by wrestling him to the ground, pinning him and topping him with my equally huge cock. Then we showered and made love in his bed, us wrapped in each other’s arms, embracing, cuddling and kissing. So, that brings us to today. Now I’m 18 years old. I stand over seven feet tall and I’m 350 lbs of rock hard powerlifting bear muscle. I hold every weightlifting, rushing and sack record at the school. Coach is really sad to see me go, but I promised I would visit to help inspire the team. My dad and I are still lovers and friends, even more so than when I was young. We work out harder than ever, redefining our bodies constantly. He’s put on some extra muscle himself and we’re getting ready to shoot our own wrestling movie. We’ve got a waiting list already made after putting up our site and showing some amateur wrestling. We go out to the bear and leather bars and are the most popular guys there. It’s kinda weird being able to look down at my dad, but the man is still the most beautiful and powerful bear I’ve seen. We still get requests for bear magazines and catalogs. We even have a line of bear wear that is based on us for the powerlifting bear. I have to get most of my leather custom made, but all the leather crafters fight over the honor. Even now it makes me blush. Rick is still my slave. He turned into a straight A student and has vowed he would attend whatever school I went to. He still sucks cock better than anyone I know, even taking my 13 inch monster down his throat. He never even thinks about how all this has happened, and I never plan on telling him. My former family is still doing well. I visit them every so often. I find it amusing seeing as I can barely fit in the house and they almost break their necks looking up at me and their jaws hit the floor when they catch a glimpse of my muscles. I plan to repay their kindness when I go pro. I owe them a lot, more than they would ever know. Several colleges, the NBA, the NFL, the Wielder Company, and others are actively recruiting me. Everyone is saying that I’m the biggest muscle guy they’ve ever seen. And I feel that I’m only going to get bigger. This post has been promoted to an article
  4. xythanshadow

    m/m A Christmas (Muscle) Story

    David had spent the last thirty-five years alone for the holidays. A combination of circumstances caused him to become a recluse during this time. First, his mother died during this month, and then his father caught him around the age of 18 jerking off to bodybuilder magazines. His father, a former collegiate ballplayer, was never really proud of his son, a thin geek. After his mother died, he started to treat him like he was worth even less, and the possibility that his son might be a “gay queer” was the last straw. Two weeks before Christmas, one year after his mother died, his father kicked him out of the house saying he never wanted to see or have anything to do with him again. So, it’s easy to see why David always spent the holidays alone. He hasn’t come out of the closet to anyone because he’s still scarred by the incident with his father. He’s tried dating women, but they just don’t satisfy his needs. He could never keep a relationship long. He would try to please them sexually, but his small 3’’ pencil dick wouldn’t hold their attention too long, and he was still too geeky to engage in conversation about mundane topics. A few years back, David resorted to drinking. He found that he could find some relief at the bottom of a bottle. But every time he would see a bodybuilder magazine in the grocery store, his cock would stir a bit, and he’d get depressed once again. This time of year made him drink even more, and years of abuse gave him a hefty beer gut. Soft and flabby, it only got bigger each year as David fell more and more into self-loathing. It was a week before Christmas and David sat in his below average apartment. Just getting back from his annoying job, he sat at the computer with a bottle of Amstel Light. Turning on his comp, he opened his e-mails. Filtering through the normal spam, he saw something that caught his eye. It was titled “Holidays got you down” and it was sent from “Your Personal Santa.” Snickering at the e-mail, he deleted it. Then he went to his explorer. His favorites were in as much disarray as his current life. Half of the links were to heterosexual porn; the other was to gay muscle. He surfed first to the lesbian porn, willing his shaft hard. He stroked it back and forth, trying to reaffirm himself that he was normal. He continued this charade for about 10 minutes before his cock went soft. Taking a giant swig of his Amstel, he looked around his empty apartment. Sighing with frustration, he surfed over to one of his most viewed muscle sites. This site was full of images of massive bodybuilders and their huge cocks, fucking smaller bodybuilders in various positions. His cock immediately sprung to life and David sighed. “I’m not gay. I just want to have that kinda muscle,” he lied to himself. He subconsciously reached for his throbbing meat and made contact, sending waves of pleasure pulsating through his body. He jerked his hand away and closed the window. “Stupid gay fuckers,” he shouted to no one in particular. He went to shut down his computer when he noticed a new e-mail. It looked almost exactly like one he deleted earlier that caught his eye, but this was slightly different. It said “Holidays got you down David?” He was unsure how his name was in the e-mail. He never used his real name online and his coworkers didn’t care enough to ask. His curiosity got the better of him and he opened the e-mail to see a red and green text message. It simply said, “Be true to yourself.” He snarled and tossed his bottle against the wall. Jerking the power supply out, he laid on the couch. Mumbling words of hatred, he fell from his drunken stupor into a deep slumber. He tossed and turned for a few moments before he started to dream. He dreamt of a Santa figure. He knew he was dreaming, but couldn’t wake himself or control anything in the dream. Santa walked up to him and said in a booming voice, “Hello David. I know you know that this is a dream, but what happens here can change your life forever.” Santa walked closer and David could see that the Santa towered over his 5’5’’ frame. He looked very festive in his red suit just like he thought Santa would look, minus the hulking 6’5’’ frame. Santa pointed his hand off to his left and materialized a woman, beautiful by any standards. She stood naked as the day she was born and had a body that would make most men cum on the spot. She stood 5’5’’, exact same height as David. Her skin was soft and silky and her breasts stood firm and young. Her hair was long and flowing in a breeze he could not feel and her face was that of a goddess. Her smile was brilliant, able to light up a dark room and her eyes glistened with wonder and femalely love. She was tapered in the hourglass type body style, and her buttocks were supple and perfect. She walked up to David and draped her hands around his neck, pressing her body against his. David kissed her gently and she returned it with all the passion she possessed. David rubbed his hands through her hair as she rubbed her body against his. After a few moments, she broke the kiss and looked gently into his eyes. David looked back into them, seeing nothing but pure intentions, and then he looked down at himself, seeing his cock painfully soft. He turned to Santa and said, “She’s perfect, just not for me.” The woman smiled and dissolved into mist. David’s sleeping body tossed and turned then tumbled to the floor, but his sleep was undisturbed. In his dream, Santa resumed talking to David. “So David, if that perfection of feminine beauty wasn’t what you wanted, what is?” David looked up at Santa and said, “I don’t know. I’ve just never been happy.” He looked down at his naked body. “David,” Santa said. David looked back at Santa’s face. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” Santa did a most muscular pose, bursting out of the coat he had on to, causing it to fall to the floor in shreds. David’s jaw dropped as his eyes ran over Santa’s body. Santa had a physique that would rival most bodybuilders. Under the layer of warm fabric hid a bounty of muscle. His arms were giant snakes and his pecs were slabs of rock sitting on his meaty chest. He had the most amazing roid gut and abs that look carved from stone. His chest was manly, covered in white hair leading down to his abs and into his pants. Santa did a squat motion, causing his calves and quads to flex and burst free from their constraints. That simple motion made the veins in his thick legs come to attention and throb, sending life-giving blood to every fiber of his massive muscles. Santa grabbed the waistband of his once fluffy pants and ripped them outward, causing them to fall in tattered pieces. Beneath the pants was an extra large jockstrap, overstuffed beyond what David could possibly imagine. Santa shook then flexed each leg, causing the muscles to dance and shake. He then tugged on the jock, stretching it to slide over his mammoth quads. After getting them sufficiently low enough, he released them, allowing them to fall to the floor and his anaconda-like penis to flop out. It hung low; almost reaching his knees with a backdrop of grapefruit sized balls resting against huge ripped muscle. Sprinkled around his crotch was the same white hair that was on his chest. David’s cock sprung to attention as Santa flexed a few more times, increasing the pump to his muscles. David’s cock was leaking pre all over his floor where he slept and he thrashed about a little more as his dream continued. Santa flexed and turned while David stood rigid, his cock harder than it ever has been. “So David, is this what you’ve wanted?” Santa asked. David frantically looked around his dreamscape and said, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want?” David dropped to his knees before Santa. Santa leaned in and whispered, “Be true to yourself.” David looked up with tears flowing from his eyes at the gentle sculpted face of Santa. He reached up and grabbed his thick wrestler-like neck and said, “I’m gay Santa. I’m really gay.” David embraced Santa and gave him the most passionate kiss he’s ever given, man or woman. In his apartment, it looked as if he was kissing the floor where he laid, but other changes were happening. His messy apartment was slowly morphing into a clean room. The trash that was lying around vanished and his ratty couch disappeared. Glass shards from his shattered beer bottle floated up and created windows. His room was slowly changing, the walls going from dirty brown to a clean white. All his furniture faded from view, and after the apartment was emptied of trash and other items, leaving a sleeping David in the middle of an empty room, the building began to morph. It changed from a 5 story building in the middle of a bustling city to a 2 story ranch house in a typical suburb. David rolled over in the middle of his empty floor and his dream continued. Santa stood up while David continued to kiss him. He used his powerful tongue to explore David’s mouth while David rubbed the back of his neck. Santa then stopped the kiss and pulled David away, holding him in mid air, feeling no strain on his powerful arms. David looked at Santa with disappointment in his eyes when Santa said, “This would be easier if you were taller, wouldn’t it.” As soon as he said that, David’s body seemed to stretch towards the floor until he was the height that Santa could release him and still look him in the eyes. David smiled and went back to his embrace with the big man. In David’s new house, other changes were being played out in real time. His body floated above the floor and a beautiful King sized bed materialized beneath him. He seemed to stretch in mid air, twisting and turning and extending as Santa made him grow in his dream. Soon, he was 6’6’’ and he floated down until his back was laid comfortably on the new bed. Santa ran his fingers through David’s balding head and said, “Let’s do something about this.” He ran his palm over the receding hairline and slowly growth returned to the area. David then ran his fingers about his head and smiled. Santa asked David, “What color hair do you like the most?” David responded, “Jet Black. I always thought it looked manlier than my dirty blond.” Santa turned David around and showed him a mirror. David looked into the mirror and was pleasantly surprised to see his head now fully covered with a layer of black hair and he was no longer balding. Santa stood behind him like a backdrop of muscle and said, “I think you would look good with a nice beard.” Instantly hair sprouted along David’s face, swiftly thickening into a luxurious beard. David reached up and touched his face, feeling the coarse softness of his new beard and smiled. Santa continued, “But what is a manly face without the body fur to go with it.” Santa positioned himself closer and ran his fingers on an outline around David’s chest and abs and in the area he outlined, thick hair sprouted and filled in. “And of course, we need to do something about this beer gut,” Santa said. Santa applied one firm hand and pushed David’s stomach in, molding it like clay until it was a flat surface. “In fact, why don’t we just change your whole look? I think you would be nice if we put some muscle on you. You wanna look like me?” David smiled and nodded yes, he knew it was always his dream to be a hulking monster of a muscle man, and since this was a dream, he could indulge himself. Unbeknownst to David, his body was laid spread eagle on his new bed, completely nude. As Santa was shaping David in his dream, David’s body did the same outside it. Already the hair had grown and changed color and his stomach disappeared. Then what followed was his body flexing and relaxing as if it were working out. Each muscle tensed, grew and stretched the skin to where the veins pulsed and threatened to rip through the flesh. In his dream David inflated at flexed in the mirror, looking more and more like the big man behind him. Santa smiled and said, “Now, just a few more things.” David took his eyes off his growing muscles long enough to turn around and see Santa’s huge tool swelling with blood. David was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of him was still fighting to hold on to the illusion that he wasn’t gay, the other part wanted to stop the charade and give in to his urges. David’s eyes were locked on to the awakening beast and his mind was raging in conflict with each other. When Santa’s cock became full mast, pointing slightly upward towards his rippled chest, David made a decision. “I’m tired of playing this game Santa. I’m tired of not enjoying the company of others because I’m afraid of what they might think. I’m tired of coming home every night and fighting against what I really want. I’m tired of being alone and I’m tired of my bastard of a father still having a hold on me after all these years,” David proclaimed. David dropped down to his knees and took hold of Santa’s massive cock, his small penis throbbing in pleasurable pain. He took a deep breath and began to suck Santa off as well as he could. Santa smiled and rubbed David’s head, “Are you happy now David?” “Yes Santa.” David mumbled in his sleep. His body had finished growing and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre over himself as he worked Santa in his dream. Santa allowed David to enthrall himself on his tool before he stopped David’s service. Santa stood David up and turned him around. Bending him over, Santa grabbed David’s waist and leaned in, whispering in his ear, “Are you ready to change your life forever?” David knew what was coming, but he didn’t care. “Santa, I trust you. I want my life to be different.” Santa smiled and slowly grabbed his shaft, guiding the swollen head toward David’s virgin ass. David moaned and grunted in his bed, twisting and turning before smiling as he was penetrated in his dream. Santa had finished inserting his massive penis into David, not without some difficulty, but David was determined to have this pleasure he’s denied himself for so many years. Santa began to thrust in and out of David leaning over to whisper things into his ear that he couldn’t hear. The thrusts began to increase in speed and power and David began to moan. If someone was watching this, they would’ve seen David bouncing up and down on his bed due to some unknown force, but in his dream, David was receiving the first and most pleasurable fucking of his life. Santa came closer and closer to cumming and reached around and grabbed David’s penis. Tugging on it roughly, Santa stretched it to match his size and girth. Each thrust of Santa’s hips in the dream was accompanied with David’s cock growing outside of his dream. Finally, Santa exploded in David’s ass, and David exploded across his chest and bed. Santa stood David up and faced him to the mirror. David smiled as he gazed upon the reflection. Stood before him was a rugged man, everything he’s ever wanted to be. His face was bearded and tight, no fat to be found. The beard was trimmed and his head was full of hair. His shoulders were as broad as a lineman’s and his chest was chiseled and covered with a thick layer of manly fur. His arms were huge and veiny, pulsing with power that led down to his Popeye sized forearms. His abs were six bricks covered in a light layer of hair and his crotch was amazing. He gasped as he looked at his new cock and balls, as large and as beautiful as Santa’s, surrounded by a tangle of black hair. David hefted his new tool and fondled it gently before letting it drop with a thwack on his power tree-trunk legs. David took the whole image in and sighed with love. Santa rubbed David’s head once more and David grabbed him in a giant hug. Santa returned the favor and whispered, “Ok David. It’s time for you to wake up.” David looked back shocked at Santa, “Please no! I don’t want to leave you or this behind.” “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright,” Santa said as David’s dreamscape began to fade. David started to wake up, almost about to cry when he noticed something was wrong. He remembered falling asleep on his couch, but now he was in a bed that he’s never felt before. He also felt something grinding on his crotch and his cock up someone’s ass. He opened his eyes to see the back of some guy’s head. He looked down to see his meat shoved firmly up this young bubble butt. He started to get hard and his partner began to wake. “Mmmmm, I love when you wake me up like that husbear” a voice whispered. David quickly got out of bed (and the ass) and got up. Looking around frantically, he saw what looked like a bathroom and ran in. He gazed at the mirror and saw what wasn’t him when he went to bed. He reached up and touched his face and instantly the dream flooded back into his head, along with memories of a new life. This wasn’t David. This was Mitch. He was a semi-pro bodybuilder and lawyer for Gay Rights. He had a loving family who he came out to many years ago and stood behind him. He also had a cub that he was with for five years now. Conflicting thoughts of David and Mitch flowed through his head. He splashed his face with some water, trying to discern the truth when he heard a familiar voice from the other room. “Mitch, are you alright? You never leave me with an unsore ass in the morning.” Dave/Mitch’s cock began to thicken and he ran his hands across his body. This is what he’s always wanted: A caring and understanding family, a good career and most importantly, a love of his life. Memories of Dave faded into non-existence and he stood tall and proud, like Mitch always does. He opened the door to the bathroom seeing his mate Gary lying on the bed. “Grrrrr. Everything’s just fine cub, except one thing.” “Oh really? What’s wrong?” Gary responded with concern in his voice. Mitch smiled and growled, “Your ass isn’t sore yet cub.” And with that, Mitch pounced on the bed. This post has been promoted to an article
  5. xythanshadow

    growth Yet Another Choice

    Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain,something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one,and only, truth.— Alphonse Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist Another night, another dozen rejections. I swear, I just don't understand people these days. These big guys online say that they want worshipers, but they don't ever respond to a guy like me. It's just another sad night here at home. For the last few years, I've been looking for some one to get together with. I'm not picky at all. I just want a big muscular manly man to have some fun with and maybe some more. But sadly, no matter what the site, I just keep getting rejected, or worse, ignored. I still can't understand why people would be like that. If I were that huge, I would love to be able to share with people. If only I hadn't spent my time working and making a living. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I think I would've been a lot happier if I had stuck to weightlifting out of college instead of spending fifteen years on my ass behind a desk. I checked my e-mail one more time to see if anyone of the muscle bear group responded to my invitation. While I may be rich, I don't want to have someone that just wants me for my money. I want someone who wants me for me. Unfortunately, that seems to be no one. Seeing my empty mailbox again just depresses me further. I shut down my computer and get ready for bed, 9:00 pm on Friday. God, this is so sad. My king sized bed just goes to further reinforce how alone I am. I bought it with hopes that it would be filled with big beef, but that has yet to happen. I clap and the room plunges into darkness, and soon, I am sound asleep. Tonight, unlike most nights, I dream. It started with me flying along. I could look down and see green fields and crystal blue lakes along the landscape. I flew along slowly, enjoying the peace and serenity of the area. Then, along the horizon, I saw a huge mirror. I glided towards it and gently landed in front of it. The image reflected in it was obviously me. Naked, but it was me. That, more than anything else was depressing. I could see how out of shape I was. I looked horrible. I was short all my life, but at least when I was a kid, I was decently proportioned. But now, I was fat enough to make two overweight guys. The parts of me that I wanted huge like my arms and legs were sticks, and the parts of me that were big I wanted leaner. And seeing my penis almost made me cry. It was one step away from not being there. It was just a nub, no bigger than my thumb. Sadly, I muttered that I wish I were less fat. Then the most amazing thing happened. The reflection began to become leaner. I stood there dumbfounded as I watched the fat melt away until my mirror image became a lean, lithe man. This excited me beyond belief. Then I remembered that I was dreaming so stuff like this should have been expected. I then wished to be taller. The reflection began to rise slowly as I encouraged it to go faster. My image rose higher and higher until it stopped around six and a half feet. Saliva started to drip from the corners of my mouth as I wished to be massively musclebound. The mirror began to expand. Slowly at first, the neck began to thicken. It turned from a skinny stick into a huge mass of muscle that no shirt collar could hope to contain. Then the shoulders began to widen with muscles. They grew up and out, expanding till they looked like a pair of shoulder pads beneath the skin and his traps were up near his ears. Next was his lats. At first, they were non-existent. Then suddenly, they exploded from his back. They unfolded out and out and out until they looked like a pair of wings, forcing his arms to rest at an angle away from his body. Then his arms started to blow up. They pulsed with my heartbeat, each time swelling with size and mass. Finally, they stopped growing, not before they blew my mind with their awe-inspiring size. My attention was drawn to his stomach which started to look like someone was baking bread in his abs. One by one, eight perfect bricks inflated from what was a flat slate followed by a perfect pair of obliques. Even from a distance, someone could tell that they were solid as armor plating. Finally, his legs started to grow. They began to swell with muscles. I watched as his quads and calves grew until his legs were almost bigger than I was. I drunk in the absolute beauty of the man that stood before me. He was bigger than any bodybuilder I've ever seen. He could make people like Markus Ruhl and Mariusz Pudzianowski look small and weak. But I thought a few things needed to be added. I wished aloud that he was more bearish. Hair started to sprout, first from his chest, growing out from his pecs, up to his neck, down his arms. A treasure trail formed afterwards, leading down towards his crotch. His legs then exploded with a fine but noticeable layer of the same beautiful hair. Then the hair on his forearms and upper chest thickened until only the striation of his muscle could be seen through the layer of man-fur. He was almost perfect, but the reflection still had my pathetic penis. I fixated my eyes on that part of his body and said with a loud voice my desire for his penis to become huge. Out of the corner of my eye, I could've sworn the image in the mirror smiled as the growth started. Slowly, almost teasingly, his cock began to swell. It was gradual at first, but as my heart began to speed up, the growth began to double. Each pulse of his organ grew it larger and larger. As it got up to around six inches and I thought the growth would slow down, it exploded with new size. It jumped up from six to at least twelve and continued to swell. It started to point upward towards the sky. It continued to grow up and out as I watched in awe. Finally, it slowed to a stop. I was amazed at how huge it was even on a massive man his size. If my arms were as big as his cock, I would've been happy. It had to be close to fifteen inches long and nine or ten inches around. It was so beautiful, it made me want to cry. I wished aloud how I wanted that image to me. Then, off to the side, I heard a voice whisper, "What would you give to look like that?" "Anything short of my soul would be worth it if I could have that body." "Then we have a deal. Step forward and take hold of your destiny." I stood there slightly confused for a moment. But then I realized that this was still a dream so of course I could have this body. I walked forward as the imaged stretched out his arms to me. I reached the mirror and took hold of him and... The alarm jarred me from my sleep. I turned and slowly pried my eyes open. On the stand was a clock blaring at me. I instinctively slammed the snooze button and rolled over before realizing that I haven't owned an alarm clock for years, ever since I was promoted to Vice-President of Operations. Wait, that can't be right. I work at the gym. I got that job after I barely graduated high school a couple of years ago. It was a great job because I could work out for free when I wasn't working. It went a long way to help me build my body. No no, I graduated from college with honors. I majored in accounting and went to climb the corporate ladder and... That can't be right, I can barely figure out how much I need to save to buy supplements. I got out of bed and looked around the room. "Didn't I have a different bed than this? No, I remember buying this bed. It was sturdy enough to not collapse under my 360 lb mass. But didn't I have some fancy king size bed?" I wandered around my apartment for a little bit, feeling that something was wrong but I couldn't put my finger on it. Everything was normal. The bench and my 130 lb dumbbells were there, sitting in front of the camera where I did my web shows. My protein shake was already blended and breakfast was made by one of my worshipers. Last night he got everything ready after he worshiped my huge muscles. He loved watching me curl those dumbbells he could barely roll across the floor. I even let him suck my cock and watch me sleep. A beep from my computer reminded me that I had a web cam show today. After the show, I would need to head to the gym and put in my shift. While I could've lived off of all my worshipers, I preferred to just use them to supplement my income. I'm sure they got as much out of it as I did. I loved flexing and being admired by anyone and everyone. Shaking the stray thoughts from my mind, I sat down at the computer, turned on my web cam and grabbed the bottle of oil. It was great being me. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Kaos placed his feet up on the table as he laughed softly. He waved his hand and the spectral mirror showing his newest subject faded. Gleaming a bright grin, he chuckled to no one in particular, "Damn, I'm good." This post has been promoted to an article
  6. xythanshadow

    growth The Trickster

    “I don’t want that piece of junk!” “It’s tradition that the closest male relative receives the inheritance. Would you deny your inheritance?” “What good is it if I can’t spend it? What am I going to do with a bunch of beads and feathers?” “Your father and grandfather would be so disappointed in you. Would you have all our ways be forgotten?” “This is why I don’t come here anymore! Every time it’s the same thing. Tradition this and heritage that and responsibly blah blah blah. I told you when I left 20 years ago that I didn’t care about the spirits or the buffalo or any of that. The world is different now. All of you guys need to get with the century. If you don’t have money and position, you’re just going to get ran over. I don’t even know why I came here. I knew I should’ve just ignored that letter.” Sam turned to leave but was stopped by the elderly lady holding a headdress. “You can’t leave before your grandfather has been given the rite of death and ascension. You shouldn’t leave until after sundown!” Sam shrugged her hand from his shoulder, “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t care anymore about tradition and I don’t care if he died. I’m going back to L.A. and if I ever see this reservation again it’ll be too soon!” With that, Sam Smith, as he called himself now after long abandoning his birth name, stormed out of the tent. He muttered to himself in anger the whole time he stamped to his car, glaring angrily at the onlookers. He hated every moment he was here. He never liked growing up on the reservation and was so happy when he finally got old enough to leave. Sam got in his car and slammed the door. He thought again, “Why in the hell did I even come?” He cranked up the car and sped down the dusty hill, vowing to never come back to the reservation he left so long ago. Driving around 80 miles an hour under the hot New Mexico sun wasn’t the greatest idea Sam had ever had. His anger was preventing him from thinking clearly and it wasn’t until he saw smoke rising from his engine did he realize his mistake. He pulled over to the side of the road and slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “Fucking shit, this is all the hell I need!” he screamed as he got out. He popped his hood and was immediately blinded by the amount of smoke and steam that rose from the engine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he yelled at the overheated car. “This is just fucking great.” He walked to his trunk and opened it, hoping to find something that could help. Sadly, he had no coolant or water in his trunk. He walked around to the backseat of his new Lexus, cursing under his breath the whole time. He looked in to see the bottle of soda he had bought in town empty and uttered a final ‘fuck’ at his situation. He looked around. He knew the reservation was about twenty miles from where he broke down, but what was worse was the closest town was still forty miles away. “Fuck!” he screamed once again, “I gotta go back to that fucking reservation to get help.” He pounded his fist on his expensive car, cursing his luck. He knew that twenty miles was way out of his limit to walk. He knew how harsh the desert was from his youth, and when he was young, he was fit enough to handle periods of time without supplies. Now he was going on forty-six years old and hadn’t even thought about exercise in twenty years. He knew that he would probably die if he tried to walk that distance without any water. So instead, he looked for shelter. He turned a few times, glancing at the horizon before spotting what looked like a hill through the haze. “A hill out here might have a cave, at the very least, there’ll be some shade. I can just go there, wait till the sun goes down and come back and catch the people coming from the reservation. I won’t have to go back and see that damn place again,” he said to himself in triumph. After placing a red flag on the car’s antenna, he started out on his walk. The flag was for naught though as after he was about 500 yards away, the car simply vanished, turned into the same sand that lined the desert floor. The hill was farther away than it first appeared, but after fifteen minutes of walking under the hot New Mexico sun, he started to see it clearly. He could tell there was a hole at the base of it and that got him even more excited. He knew that the area had some underground caves and rivers around. That’s why his people had settled here, so it was even possible that he could find some water. That was one good thing about growing up here, the water was better than most of the stuff he could buy in L.A. Ten minutes later, his clothes completely drenched in sweat, he arrived at the hill. It was a big mound of earth that rose up against the flat landscape that surrounded it. There was a few cacti around the area, but nothing that gave good shade. He was about to curse again when he saw out the corner of his eye an indention in the side of the hill. He walked over and peered down to see a hole, slightly bigger than he was going down into the base of the mound. He could feel a cool breeze coming up from it and he practically jumped at his luck. It took a little effort, but he squeezed into the hole. It was a slight fall, around six feet, and he landed face first in a pile of dust. He got up slowly, grateful that he didn’t break anything and started dusting himself off. But as soon as he started to shake his clothes, he was overcome with a feeling similar to bugs crawling over him. He started to dance and rip his clothes off, starting with his shirt, then his pants, underwear, shoes and socks. He threw them on the ground and stumbled back deeper in the cave. If he would have looked back in the dim light of the cave, he would’ve seen two things. One, there were no bugs at all in the cave. In fact, there wasn’t a single living thing in the area besides him. Two, he would’ve saw his clothes, just like his car, slowly turn to dust and vanish from existence. Sam could feel the cave slope down gradually as he walked. Thankfully, there were pinholes as he walked letting light in from the surface. He could only assume that he was walking a few feet below the desert floor. He could feel the temperature drop slowly as he walked and soon, he could hear the sounds of dripping water. He picked up his pace, stumbling naked through the mysterious cave when he finally came upon what seemed to be an ancient stalactite. He saw that there was a steady stream of water slowly dripping from it, landing on the floor, then running downward deeper into the cave. He rejoiced at his luck again and cupped his hands under the flow. What Sam didn’t realize was, as he quenched his tremendous thirst, his memories were flowing away from him like the river that was between his toes. He was too enthralled with the cool and soothing sensation of the liquid hitting his tongue to worry about anything else. Finally, when he had had his fill, he looked up and around. “What am I doing here again?” he said. It should have shocked him that he couldn’t remember, but he simply felt a sense of calm, confused, but calm. He turned and saw a light shimmer of heat before a pool materialize before him. The water was bubbling from an underground vent and it looked so enticing to Sam. He looked down at himself and saw how dirty his body was. “I must’ve come here for a bath,” he said to no one in particular. He gingerly stepped in the pool, wincing slightly at the sudden temperature change. Slowly, he lowered himself into the natural spa, sighing with relief as more of his body became immersed in the balmy water. Finally, his feet hit bottom, leaving just his chin above the surface. Sam became so completely relaxed as he stood in the pool. He closed his eyes and simply rested in the water. But as he did, he never noticed the changes that were happening. When he stepped in the pool, he was a stereotypical fat cat. Years of working in a law firm, spending twelve hour days wheeling and dealing had left his body a complete disaster. He had a huge stomach from all the huge meals he had with clients, cellulite covered his entire body and his chin gave new meaning to the phrase, “turkey neck”. He long had stopped caring what shape he was in, money could fix that when he hit his mid life crisis. But, as he stood in the water, years of unhealthy living seemed to melt from his body. It looked like the water was boiling away the fat on his body. Sam didn’t feel anything different happening to him as he stood there, but his body was going through several changes. Finally, he knelt down and dunked his head under for a few moments to clean the dust off his face. When he stood back up, his face had completely transformed. Now, instead of the bald, pale man that went under, there stood a man that face was lean and angular, skin bronzed from many days under the sun and long flowing black hair that floated on the surface half a foot from his head. He stood up, not noticing the added height from when he went in. “Ahhh, this water feels great. But wasn’t I supposed to be doing something?” He saw a shimmer out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a few feet from where he stood an elegant headdress and chest piece made out of beads and eagle feathers. He got out of the pool and walked over to the jewelry lying on the ground. Bending down a lot further than he would have had to a few moments ago, he gently picked up the mysterious item. He rolled it around in his hands for a few moments, thinking how familiar it was, yet so foreign. His eyes fixated on a red bead. The ambient light reflected and refracted off of what seemed to be an infinite number of facets in the jewel. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, slowly rotating it around, peering into its depths like it was a kaleidoscope. As he was mesmerized by the jewel, his body began to go another transformation. His frame, which was slender and taller compared to his old one, slowly began to expand. But instead of fat, it swelled with sinewy muscle. It started from the ground with his feet. He had small feet all his life, but now they seemed to pulse. Each moment was filled with expansion of his former feet, swelling from the small size 7 he had until they were giant feet, swollen with muscle that threatened to explode from even size 16 EEEE shoes. Then the growth progressed upwards. His calves started to become warm, but he was so enthralled with the jewel, he didn’t feel any discomfort. The calves began to bulge outward, flexing and growing into a mound of muscle that would’ve made anyone proud. They split and grew until his lower legs were two beautifully sculpted diamonds of power. Then his thighs began to experience the same growth. They ballooned outward as if someone was forcing pounds of air through them. But a glance would tell you that these legs were not filled with air, but instead thick striated muscle. They swole to such a size that he was unconsciously forced to adjust his stance. That growth eventually made its way to his cock. Sam had never had anything to be proud of in that department, but the meat that was growing at his crotch now would’ve made a mule proud. It grew thicker and longer in time with his steady heart beat, pulsing with size and power until it was as long as a ruler and thicker than his wrists. His torso began to change next, first with the slimming of his waist and the expansion of his abs. From an outside perspective, it looked like the skin was drawing itself closer and closer to the muscle until it seemed like there was no skin, only six perfectly formed bricks of muscles guarded by two impressive obliques. Then, his chest and back began to expand. It seemed as if with each deep breath he took, his chest and back filled with air, but didn’t recede any when he exhaled. The growth continued to fill with muscle until his chest was as big as a barrel around with pecs that looked as big as a person’s head and a back that looked like he could fly without any trouble. His arms followed soon after, slowly filling with the same thick dense muscle that filled his legs. He didn’t even notice that his hands and arms were getting bigger as the jewel glinted in his eyes. His hands grew to a size that could easily palm a basketball and his forearms were so bloated with muscle, they looked like they could twist off the stone stalactites that adorned the cave. His biceps inflated to the size of a football on his arms and his triceps soon grew to the size of a smoked ham. His shoulders and neck grew right after that as the warm feeling traveled up his body. His shoulders became huge mounds of muscle and his neck quickly thickened to a column of unmovable mass. Finally, his face began to change. It loss most of its age and weariness to reveal a youthful look, yet his eyes exposed the wisdom of a man twice his new age. A light layer of hair began to cover his entire body except his back. It was his back that experienced the final changes. The sleek and muscular back of this young Native American was completely hairless when it started. The muscles began to flex outward, displaying its power for an unseen audience. Then, lines began to form on his skin. The first image that appeared was that of a crescent moon on his left shoulder blade. It was light blue and white, the same color as what could be seen on a clear night in the New Mexico skies. Then, along his collar bone along to his right shoulder, a few depictions of clouds appeared. Then, starting from his lower back, lines began to fill in between the numerous indentions in his huge back. Slowly, the image of a mountain cliff was visible, perfectly formed to work in conjunction with his natural muscularity. As he moved, the mountain range seemed to shift and morph with each contraction and relaxation of muscle. The coloring even seemed to blend in flawlessly with his natural bronze skin. Finally, on top of that new cliff side, making up the majority of his back, the image of a coyote began to appear. Outlined by black, the animal slowly formed on the landscape of his new muscle. It stood proudly as the centerpiece of the artwork, howling at the crescent moon that adorned his shoulder. Then, a light layer of short grey hair sprouted from his back, filling in only where the image of the coyote was. He finally snapped out of his trance when the growth was complete. He thought and said nothing, but simply put on the chest piece and headdress. He adjusted it with the skill that could only be learned with years of practice. The chest piece stood boldly against his new muscles. It felt comfortable there, as if it were there for years. No shirt would ever be able to contain the mass of muscle that was under the beaded item. He looked around the cave once again and his eyes fell on a pair tanned leather shorts. Obviously, they were designed specifically for him because the waist was so slim, yet the leg holes were exceptionally big, befitting a man of his superior size and equipment. He slipped them on and looked up, “By the spirits, I’m going to be late!” In a few moments, he was outside the hill again. By this time, the sun was approaching the horizon and he lamented his forgetfulness. “I should not have taken so much time purifying myself for the rite!” He turned towards the reservation and began to sprint, his powerful legs indenting the ground as his huge bulk moved across the desert like a cheetah. So focused on the run before him, he didn’t notice the hill behind him fading into nothingness and the desert returning like nothing was ever there. Around fifteen minutes later, he ran into the front of the reservation. His body was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the run under the clear dusk sky, but he wasn’t exhausted at all. He was greeted at the entrance by three of the tribe’s braves. “Halt! We are not having any visitors today! You must turn back.” He stood before them, towering over the short, but fit guards. “I am Coyote Rock, son of Soaring Eagle. I have come to pay my respects to Falling Wind.” The braves stood there dumbfounded. One immediately ran up the hill and informed the chief and the great grandmother of the situation, and a few moments later, they walked down the hill. Seeing the majestic movements of the elders, Coyote Rock immediately bowed his head in reverence. The chief whispered something in the ear of the brave, and he stood down. The chief motioned for Coyote Rock to follow them. He was led to the top of the hill where the funeral pyre was being set up. Already, the tribe had started gathering for the rite of death. The chief turned to great-grandmother and her aides, then to Coyote Rock. “The braves told me that you said you are the son of Soaring Eagle. I am sure that Soaring Eagle had but one son.” “I know. I am he, son of Soaring Eagle and grandson of Falling Wind,” he said with a deep voice that cut through the silence. Before the chief could protest, the sound of thunder echoed across the village. Everyone looked up at the cloudless sky in confusion. Then suddenly, a few amazing things happened. Great-Grandmother, who was holding the headdress of Falling Wind, noticed the same exact headdress on the man who called himself Coyote Rock. Then, the headdress she was holding slowly dissolved into dust and scattered to the gentle breeze that ran through the village. Then, everyone’s eyes except Coyote Rock’s were drawn to him. A slight flicker engulfed his torso. Then, a paw print like that of a wild coyote appeared on his right hip. Then, another one, and another one until it looked like an animal walked from his hip, up his abs and across his left pec muscle. Finally, the sound of a coyote’s howl resonated throughout the reservation. All the people there stood in awe as Coyote Rock looked at the sky. Great-Grandmother simply smiled. She stepped forward, wiping the remains of the dust off her hands and said, “Young coyote, will you accept your inheritance and become our new shaman?” The chief looked at her in shock, then realization as Coyote said, “Yes, of course Grandmother. I will do all that I can to serve the tribe as my grandfather did before me.” “This is a good thing,” she said loud enough for the tribe gathered there to hear. “Then, young coyote, would you lead us in the Dirge of Sorrow?” Coyote Rock bowed his head solemnly and walked towards the pyre. Saying a quiet thanks before starting, he lifted up his head. With a low voice that trembled through everyone, he started to sing the song. His deep voice echoed though the hearts and minds of all the people, and soon, the hilltop was filled with the song of the tribe. A few weeks later, a pair state troopers came to the reservation. They were greeted by Coyote Rock. “Hello sir, we’re looking for a missing person, Sam Smith. His last known destination was supposedly this reservation. He had said he was going to the funeral of his grandfather.” Coyote Rock simply looked at the police officers as a howl was heard across the land. “I am the only grandson of Falling Wind. I do not know of whom you speak.” This post has been promoted to an article
  7. xythanshadow

    growth Another Choice 2

    Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain,something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one,and only, truth.- Alphonse Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist It's a good thing I like you. Normally, I don't spend this much time telling anyone about my work. Usually I just have lovely Celest to talk to and she never appreciates the subtle beauty in my changes. But these are some of my favorite subjects and you're such a good listener, so I guess I'll tell you another one. Now, which one was I going to tell you about? Oh yes, Steven, thank you. Yes, I remember Steven well. He's still alive if memory serves. Yes, he was a by-product of the time line that was created due to another project, Carl and Paul. Yes, you remember those two don't you? Paul was exceptionally special and had to be stopped, but I digress. Steven was someone that would've benefited from what Paul would've done if I didn't place Carl in Paul's life. Steven was the son of a single mother who was over protective of her baby. He was the last thing in her life that reminded her of her dead husband. So naturally, she wouldn't let him go out and play with the rest of the kids, she always was feeding him healthy foods and at the first sign of sickness, would dope him up on enough drugs to make anyone wonder. So, is it any surprise that Steven ended up being exceptionally confused when he entered school? His social skills were severely lacking, along with his physique and self confidence. He didn't even start playing with the other children at recess until he was in the forth grade. Needless to say, all his awkwardness translated to other aspects of his life. He was slightly above average in intelligence, but his shy and timid nature made him seem quite aloof. And anything physical was a complete mystery to him. He constantly failed his P.E. classes because he just couldn't do anything remotely sports related. The coaches tried everything, but eventually gave up on him. As you can guess, all this made him a prime target for bullying when he got to high school. He could count on one hand the number of people he considered friends, but the number of enemies he had seemed infinite. It was one day after a particularly rough school day that I introduced myself. He had spent most of his walk home being followed by a bully. Jeffry or Jeremy or something, I can't remember. Anyway, he had finally made it home, locked the door and ran to his bathroom. He stood there crying for a few minutes before he started to clean himself up. He looked in the mirror and started to wash his face. I whispered in his ear, “Not quite fair, is it?” He spun around to face me, then started looking around my pocket dimension. I'm a sucker for theatrics and the teleporting stunt always amuses me. He seemed as scared as a cornered rabbit when he looked at me. And I don't blame him. That day, I had chose a pretty intimidating appearance. I was around 6'8” that day and, since I had plans for the trade, I was pretty hefty in size. I'd guess I was close to 350 lbs of beef. Of course, there was like eight percent body fat on the giant frame. I had muscles on top of muscles, from the 21” inch neck down to the 30” calves. I had a bald head then and my face was covered with a thick salt and pepper beard. If I were a normal man, I would've been around 40 or 50 years old. I felt his eyes on my chest and I didn't blame him for staring. I placed my hands on my hips and did a lat spread. As my lats flared like a pair of wings, I heard a sharp intake of breath. His eyes were glued on the massive rocks that I called a chest and the mass of thick hair that encompassed the landscape of my torso. I flexed my right arm and saw his eyes widen. I'm sure he had never seen an arm as big as that. 22 inches of pure ripped power bulging before him with a tricep the size of a horseshoe, lined with thick veins, connected to a thick, hairy pipe of a forearm and a cannonball shoulder. Eventually he looked at the rest of my amazing physique. I didn't have a six pack today, but the stomach I had was flat and firm, covered in hair thick enough to have fingers ran through. It led down towards the mammoth cock that I had created. His jaw fell open as he gazed upon the thick member that hung lazily against my massive quad. The legs which were thicker than my waist accentuated the package well, giving the body an even more imposing appearance. Blood rushed through the fountain pen sized veins that ran along my legs like a road map. Even the calves I had were monstrous, bulging at the sides, threatening to burst at the seams. “Why don't you have a seat Steven? Looks like you're a little flushed. It must be the smell getting to you. I know you've always liked the smell of a locker room. It makes you think of what it would be like to be a confident jock. Someone who knows what they want and how to get it. Someone that was big and strong and popular.” Steven looked at me in shock and confusion as I laid his deepest secrets to bare. “Yes, I know about it all. I know about that bodybuilder magazine that you have underneath your second desk drawer. I know how you pull it out and jerk to the pictures of the huge bodybuilders, wishing that you could be just like them.” I strolled around my desk and sat in my huge red leather chair, “What would you say if I could make that happen for you?” He started to speak, but then held back. “What's the catch?” he asked, wisely. I waved my hand and off to the left of my desk appeared a television set. The all too familiar clip of the anime “Full Metal Alchemist” played. He smiled knowingly as he had watched several episodes of the show. I paused it after Alphonse explained the Equivalent Exchange concept and I asked him, “Have you ever given that any thought? Not the alchemy part, but the concept of giving up one thing to get another?” Steven shook his head no and I continued, “Think about it. You give up your time to study to get smarter or workout to get bigger. You give up privacy to hang out with people. People give up freedom for money and jobs. People even give up their dreams in exchange for stability. Every decision you make in life, you're giving up one thing for another.” Steven sat there thoughtfully as I continued, “I've brought you here because I'm willing to offer you an once-in-a-lifetime chance. I'm willing to trade you one commodity in exchange for what you desire most: This body and the confident, assured attitude that comes with it.. But the price isn't cheap. You'd have to give up something of equal value in trade.” I was slightly surprised when he didn't ask me what he would have to give. Instead, he asked me, “Why?” I smiled at him and said, “Because, I am the avatar of Chaos. It is what I do, I change things to make the world more unpredictable. Life is so much entertaining that way, don't you agree?” He shook his head no, “I've had enough chaos in my life.” I leaned on the desk, my forearms rippling at the simple movement. As I bridged my fingers, I said, “So, you enjoy the strict order that your mother created for you? You liked being completely different from everyone else? You enjoy that every thing so far in your life has been decided for you?” He hung his head and said, “No, not really.” “I know. I'm simply offering you a chance for control of your life instead of having everyone else control you. I wouldn't have chosen you if I didn't think you'd be a good candidate.” “What does it involve?” “It's simple. We come to the terms of the agreement, I change you and then complete the exchange. You will be fully integrated into your new life with no memories of this or your old life.” “What guarantee do I have in this?” I smiled. This kid was the first one in years that asked so many questions. It was refreshing to be honest. Kinda like a hard sell. I waved my hand and a few dozen scrolls appeared on the desk. I grabbed one and unrolled it, “Here are the rules to answer your question.” He looked at me in utter confusion and said, “I can't understand a single letter on this thing.” I smiled and said, “Sorry, my bad. Forgot this was written in Kuo-Toan. Basically, the gist of this scroll is the punishment and consequences for an unfulfilled exchanged. If I fail to uphold my end of the bargain in any way, I relinquish all my abilities and position as the avatar of Chaos to the client of said contract. In addition, the client will be made aware of my true name and I will become a mortal.” “True name?” he asked. “Yes, my true name. Good grief, don't they teach you anything in school. Ok, my real name isn't Kaos, your real name isn't Steven. Everything has a true name, and if you know a being's true name, you can command them to do anything short of harming themselves. So basically, if I do not carry out the contract, you gain all my powers and complete control over me.” “Really?” “Yes, really. So you can see why I am very careful and very thorough when I am conducting business.” “So, what would I have to give up to look like you?” “Time. For this body, you would have to give up your youth and long life. If you accept this deal, you will only have somewhere between five and ten years, but in that time, you will enjoy life infinitely more than you have since the time you can remember. He sat there mulling over the details and asking me random questions for around an hour. This kid amused me more than a lot of my subjects. A lot of them just accepted the deal. This kid actually thought about it. Finally, he said, “Ok, I will trade you my youth of torment for a life of enjoyment, no matter how short it may be.” I smiled as I waved away the desk, scrolls, chairs and television. He stood there before me, flabbergasted as I said, “You might wanna get undressed. Those clothes aren't going to be useful to you in a little bit.” He scrambled to get his clothing off. And I was amused by the amount of shyness he had. He held the clothing in front of his crotch after they were off. I smiled to myself, thinking how that aspect of him wouldn't last much longer. The transformation of a subject has always been a favorite of mine. Instant changes are a lot more enjoyable than the over time ones that I occasionally do, and this one was no exception. First, the subject's height must be adjusted, and that is by far the most painful part of the procedure. Everyone, from the little kids to the gruff bikers fall to the ground, rolling in agony in this phase and Steven was no exception. It started with his legs and feet. I tend to start there because you have to have a good base for someone to walk on. His toes cracked and reformed, followed by his feet, ankles and legs. I am used to the sound of broken bones, but to a mortal the sound would be sickening. Slowly, his bones thicken and mended themselves bigger and stronger before the growth moved onward to the rest of his body. Soon, it looked like Steven was an alien, his thick new skeleton protruding from his body like internal chitin. After the pain had subsided, Steven stood up. Confusion washed over his face as he looked at his hands. The skin on his hands seemed to be paper thin, revealing his new, thicker bones and fingers. Much to my amusement, he didn't panic or become impatient, but instead simply looked at me in anticipation. I decided not to make him wait any longer and started the muscle growth. As with his skeletal growth, this also started at his feet. He felt them tingle and vibrate as if someone was putting a low voltage wire in them. Slowly but surely, he saw them inflate. They thickened and widened as he watched. Completely mesmerized, he followed the growth with his eyes as it transversed to his legs. He moaned in pleasure as his calves and thighs began to expand with thick, firm muscle. Hair sprouted and grew along his new muscles as his body adjusted to the influx of testosterone. His cock was the next thing to grow and, as much as he wanted to reach down and play with it, he held still. But his moans were more than enough sign that he was enjoying the experience. His meat grew and swelled with each beat of his heart until it was the size of a thick summer sausage with balls the size of his tiny fists, all covered in a layer of manly salt and pepper hair. Before he had a chance to evaluate the growth in his lower body, his upper body started to expand. He could feel it all at once, how his chest, stomach, back and arms buzzed with power. Each part grew at a different rate, but they all expanded to a size that Steven would've never dreamed of. He could feel the weight of his new chest and how thick it was with muscle. He could tell how hard and solid his stomach was, even without a six pack. He could feel how swollen his arms were as they hung at an angle because of his new back. And he could also feel his shoulders and traps beef up. As he tried to look down, he smiled at the fact that his now huge chest blocked his view. He raised his arms to examine them before his face started tingling. He lowered his arms and once again allowed the transformation to proceed. His face started to feel a little itchy and he could tell that something was happening. The top of his head felt cooler and his jawline felt warmer. Finally, the transformation was done. He opened his eyes and looked at me. I simply smiled and nodded. He took that as a sign that he was done. He took his hands and explored the new contours and bulges around his body, flexing the new muscles. He laughed aloud at his new size and power. He ran his hands through the thick hair I gave him and took a few moments to get familiar with his new arms, legs and cock. He couldn't get enough of the changes, it was like he was a kid on Christmas day with his new toy. I allowed him to explore himself a bit longer before I said, “And now for the exchange.” Memories rushed into his head, laying the groundwork for his new life. He suddenly remembered wrestling in high school, captaining the football team, having sex with all the cheerleaders and half of the wrestling team. Then, memories of college flooded his head, starting with football, then going to his fraternity and how he was introduced to bodybuilding. He remembered how once he got into lifting weights, he discovered what it was like to be wrestle before sex. After that discovery, he never had sex with a woman again, preferring to fuck people who would wrestle with him first. A few times he lost and had to be the bottom, but every time he did, he enjoyed it. He then remembered the years he spent as a construction worker, followed by working at the steel mill. Every job he took went towards building up his huge physique. Even after he retired, he continued to stick to his strict lifting regiment and diet. Steven rubbed his temples as the memories took hold. When he finally accepted his new memories, he closed his eyes and I smiled and said, “Enjoy.” He blinked a few times before his eyes focused on the straight blade in his hand. He was confused for a moment, but then said aloud, “Must've been shaving the dome.” He started to scrape his head clean, until it was completely hairless. He smiled seeing the smooth skin atop his head. He then took the blade and shaped his beard. He never cut it anymore since he retired, but he did enjoy having it maintained. The full beard accented his masculinity so well. He walked into his bedroom, his sausage sized cock swaying with each step. He opened the closet to reveal a treasure trove of leather outfits. He pulled out a leather cod piece, and with practiced precision, encased his beef in it. He adjusted it slightly so it would stay in place yet bulge outward as he walked. As he pulled out his favorite leather pants, he said, “I hope there's some new beef at the eagle tonight.” He had been disappointed as of late. With a body like his, he could get any piece of ass he wanted. And if he wanted to fuck a little boi, they were lined up around the block to get some muscle dad beef. No, that night he wanted a challenge he thought as he strapped on his harness. He wanted a guy that wouldn't just submit. He wanted a fight for dominance. He wanted to wrestle around with a fucker that was as big or bigger than him, make him submit and then fuck him silly. Or get dominated, it didn't really matter. He just wanted the challenge, the hunt. He slid a leather arm band that looked like some twink's collar on his right arm and looked one last time in the mirror, seeing how the leather emphasized his huge hairy body and stunning cock. He smiled and said, “Yea, let's go find some one to come appreciate all this.” I smiled and waved that mirror away. I spun around and said, “Why hello Celest, so nice of you to visit.” A slender woman clothed in pure white lace materialized in the room. Her outfit flowed and drifted in an unfelt breeze as she said, “I don't appreciate what you just did?” “Hmm, really now?” I mused. “Yes, I had my eye on that Steven boy for a while.” “Well then, maybe you should've used one of your mid-level changes to take care of him before I did. I tell you what though. I'm feeling kinda sporting today,” I started with a smirk on my face. “I will relinquish my claim of non-interference so you may speak with him and I will reverse his contract IF you can convince him to agree.” I stood up and walked around my desk. Towering over her, I added, “But you have to tell him everything. You have to tell him that he will be bullied every day until he graduates high school, that he would have no more than five friends in college, never go to a party, never be invited to anything, resented for spending all his time studying and being so smart.” I smiled and continued, “Then you tell him about his adult life, how he never had a meaningful relationship, never had sex or anything, spent every moment working at the pharmaceutical company until he died alone and miserable at 43.” Finally, I leaned forward and whispered, “And then tell him the best part, how the only good thing that he accomplished in his life was credited to the young, attractive jock intern that he envied and lusted after.” “But he had figured out how to cure the common cold. It gave people a whole new understanding of viruses.” “I know that and you know that, but the question is, can you convince him to give up everything I've given him and ask him to go through that hell just so someone else can get the credit in the end.” Celestia turned away from me and started floating away. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew I had a point. Very few people would give up their happiness for someone they know, much less people they didn't. As she started to fade from view, I called out to her, “I'm sure next time, it won't be quite as easy.” “No, I won't make that mistake again. I will use a high-level change if I have to next time.” After she had returned to her realm, I sealed my dimension. Waving my hand, I brought up a separate spectral window displaying my newest interest. I watched curiously as the young kid ran after his dog, happy as can be. I smiled, because even though his future was closed to Celestia and myself, I was sure that interesting things would be following him in time. Hmm, what's that? You wanna know if it was you that I was watching back then? Well, if I told you no, would you believe me? And if I said yes, you would be suspicious of why I flatly told you so. So, I'll just let you decide. Either way, it doesn't matter to me. At least not yet it doesn't. This post has been promoted to an article
  8. xythanshadow

    m/m Bear's Bar And Brews

    Mark's fingers drummed along the steering wheel of his Lexus as he headed home. He hated working in the gay district. He didn't know exactly what he did to Cheryl to gain her ire, but he had to fix it as soon as possible. She assigned him to this district for the next few months and he was long pass hating it. It didn't help it that he was another hour from his house. "Stupid gay bastards," he said to himself. He was hit on four times that day and if he knew that he could've kicked their flamboyant asses without getting fired, he would've. "I need a drink," he grumbled. He glanced out his window longingly. Even though he knew he was still deep in "gay-town", he was hoping to find somewhere to at least get a beer. As he drove, he started to lose hope as he passed by shop after shop proudly sporting rainbow flags and other gay paraphernalia. But luckily, before he lost all hope, he saw a black building sort of off the road that had a sign that said, "Bear's Bar and Brews". He slowed down and looked around the building before pulling into the parking lot. He saw a few Harley Davidson bikes, and most importantly, nothing that screamed gay. He parked and headed inside. As he entered the dimly lit building, his lungs were filled with cigar smoke. He smiled, thinking to himself how gays didn't smoke cigars, only fruity cigarettes. After a turn out of the foyer, he saw the bar at the back of the room. Above it were a trio of t.v.s showing various games. He smiled again at the site of football and rugby on the screens. Behind the bar was a burly man, covered in hair and wearing a leather vest washing out a glass. Near him was another big man, mature and also hairy, with a beard that would make Grizzly Adams envious. “What kin I git fer ya?” said the bartender in a gruff, raspy voice. Mark smiled and quickly took a seat at the bar, “What do ya have on tap?” The bartender smiled and grabbed a frosty mug. With a practiced motion, he started to fill the mug with a deep amber ale. “You don’t look like yer from ‘round here,” he said as he slid the beer to him. With a smile, he accepted the beverage and replied, “No, I live on the north side. Just had to come down to the queer side of town for work and I was so pissed I had to find somewhere to drown out today. Just had to put up with so many guys hitting on me today. I swear, if I didn’t have to worry ‘bout losing my job, I would have knocked one of those dick-loving fags out today.” The bartender simply nodded his head as he listened to Mark. He took another swig of his beer and continued, “I never liked them anyway with their floating around like the little fairies they are, talking about pop music and shit. I mean, I don’t have any problem with someone being gay, just them flaunting it around like that. I mean, men should be men and women should be women.” He set his empty mug down and the bartender grabbed it, refilled it and set it back down in front of Mark. “What would you do if you saw a gay guy that didn’t look gay?” the man near him asked. Mark took another huge gulp of his beer and responded, “I don’t give a flying fuck man, as long as they aren’t being all gay around me, hitting on me and shit. I’m a strict vagatarian.” Mark laughed loudly at his own joke. “Vagatarian, huh?” the big guy next to him said as he took a swig from his mug. “Yeah man, I can't get enough of some good pussy, ya know what I mean?” Mark said with a slight slur. The bartender muttered quietly, “Yeah, some boy pussy.” The big guy laughed at the joke while Mark looked around in confusion. “You know,” he said to Mark, “I can tell why everyone was hitting on you. I mean, look at you.” Mark glanced down and looked back at the huge bartender, “Whhaaat aaaaarrree yaaa talkin' bout?” Mark shook his head, wondering why the beer was affecting him like that. He usually could hold his alcohol but there was something weird about this beer. Weird, but it tasted so good he thought as he took another swig. “No offense man, but you look like one of those guys. I know it's popular to be 'metrosexual', but is that what you really want? I mean, look at me, none of those little twinks come in here and hit on me, same with ol' Humphrey there.” Mark looked closer at the two. He could tell what he meant. The two guys were big, burly men; the type you see in biker gangs or doing construction work. They both had really big chests and arms and both were covered in hair. Humphrey had a huge full beard while the bartender had a well-kept handlebar mustache. Mark rubbed his face in thought, feeling how bare and smooth it was. He had kept it that way for years, but maybe the guys had a point. Humphrey then flexed his arm and Mark was blown away. He thought he had a good physique, but seeing Humphrey flex just showed him that there was another whole level of size and strength. Mark though, “I bet those gay guys don't even think about talking to him with an arm like that.” He leaned forward slightly, suddenly feeling dizzy and started to fall. Humphrey reached out and grabbed him, his massive arms barely registering the movement. “Woah boy, looks like you had a little too much.” “I'm not as think as you drunk I am,” Mark slurred before it clicked in his mind what he said. He tried to regain his balance but his body didn't respond. “It's ok boy, I got ya,” Humphrey said with a smirk. “Hey Damien, can you 'take care' of our bud here?” Damien smiled and said, “Sure thing, let's take him to the back room.” The two big men helped Mark to a room in the back of the bar. Mark's head was swimming, but he saw the dimly lit room and the bed in the middle. There was a lamp next to the bed on a nightstand and a radio, but besides that, Mark didn't notice any other furniture or windows. They gently lowered him on the bed and Humphrey turned to leave. Damien reached over and turned on the radio and said, “Ok, go to sleep and when you wake up you can go back to your place.” Mark was too drunk to argue, so he simply nodded. Damien smiled and walked out the room, closing the door behind him. When the door was shut, the room plunged into darkness. Mark rolled over in the bed and tried to get comfortable as the sounds of ocean waves filled the room. He listened to the waves crash against an unseen coast, and as he listened, it felt as if all the tension in his body melted away.
  9. xythanshadow

    growth Clothes Make The Man

    "Hey Sam, First things first: Happy Birthday. I know you're probably not celebrating it, but I thought I would send you a present anyway. I know that you've always had a thing for big biker men, and I know that you always wanted to be one, so I figured I would give you a goal. Inside is the full Monty of biker gear. Most of it's special order and I hope you like it. Don't bother trying to figure out how much it cost me, just promise me you'll try it on once and set a goal for yourself. Just remember that clothes make the man, but sometimes the man has to work a little to help the clothes. P.S. When you can fit in this outfit, you've got to come visit me in CA" It was about five years ago when Sam first read the letter that came with the giant box a few days after his birthday. As usual, he didn't even remember his birthday had past, but he was thankful that at least Georgio had remembered. He smiled as he read the letter and wondered what insanity his best friend had in store. He opened the box and pulled away the bubble wrap. Immediately, his nose was assaulted by the strong musk of leather. Sam inhaled deeply the arousing scent and smiled. He started to pull out the contents of the box and laid them on his couch. A few moments later, he stood and took inventory of his present. He now was the owner of a very nice leather outfit, a jacket with a few zipper pockets, a pair of very shiny leather pants, a leather cop hat, some chrome reflective shades, a white tank top, a blue jockstrap and some calf high boots. Looking at the collection, Sam was tempted to find out how much he paid for the set. He fantasized about getting an outfit of his own, but never felt that he could pull the image off well enough. He collected all of his new clothing and headed towards his bedroom. He stripped down in front of the mirror and took a look at himself. It was almost enough to make him put back on his clothes, stuff his new leather into its box and hide it in the back of his closet. He saw himself through very critical eyes. It had been that way since the he was a kid. While he had a lean, athletic look, he simply saw himself as thin. He always envied the guys who had muscle mass, but he never actively tried to build himself up. While a lot of people envied him for his good metabolism and endurance, he lamented it. All he saw in the mirror was a small, thin guy who had a body that looked like it belonged to a child than a man. The only thing he was proud of was his cock which hung about six inches soft and swelled to around nine when he saw a world's strongest man competition or a bodybuilding show. He reached over and grabbed the blue jock strap. He rolled it around in his fingers, feeling the mesh fabric. He always had a lust for muscle men in jocks, but he never actually bought one for himself. He smiled and slipped it on. It wasn't a perfect fit though. He knew Georgio knew his exact measurements since he had a suit tailored for him, but for some reason, the jock strap was a few inches bigger in the waistband than he needed. Thankfully, the pouch fit perfectly. Then, Sam realized that he was supposed to grow into everything. With a smile on his face and one hand holding up his jock, he grabbed the tank top. He had to let go of his jock, so he widened his stance, allowed the jock to slide a bit, and used his other hand to hold the tank top up in front of him. It was definitely something he was going to have to grow into if he ever wanted to use it. It was a spaghetti string top, cut wide in the back to let a pair of huge lats hang out. He knew it was the type that most huge guys wore when they were working out or walking on the beach. It was designed to barely cover a massive chest and back, and obviously let everyone see the builder's massive arms and traps. He slipped it on over his head and the fabric drooped down, falling down to his stomach. If it wasn't so funny, he would have stopped there. Even though he did feel self-conscious about wearing the huge clothes, it was amusing at the same time. He grabbed the leather pants next and took a better look at them. They were very high quality from what he could tell. They smelled wonderful and seemed to be sleek and polished. As he held them up, he saw they were about the same size as the jockstrap that he had on, but the legs were unusual. If it was a normal pair of pants, the legs would have been smaller than what he was staring at. But instead, they were over twice the size as a normal leg. He chuckled; obviously Georgio was expecting some very big quads and calves when someone was going to put the pants on. It took him a few tries to get the pants on without letting the jock strap fall to the floor, but eventually he did. Once he pulled them up to his waist, he let loose a loud laugh. Even though the waist wasn't more than four or five inches bigger than his normal size, his legs felt as if they were swimming in a sea of openness. There was so much room in the legs that it felt like he wasn't wearing anything at all. The last thing that was left to put on was the jacket. By that time, his mind was teetering between hysterical amusement and depression. He picked up the jacket and slung it over his shoulders. As soon as he put it on, he could feel how huge it was. To get his arms though the holes and his hands out the ends, he had to bunch up the slick leather. He could feel how small his shoulders were when the jacket rested on them and how thin his back and arms were as the jacket engulfed his frame. As he turned around, he pulled up the slipping pants with a free hand. He turned to see himself in the mirror and several things ran through his mind. Everything from how silly it looked for him to be wearing clothes that were so huge compared to him to how much it cost Georgio to what he should buy him for his birthday. But the overriding thought in his head was, "How would I look if these clothes fit me?" He thought long and hard as he stared at his reflection. Finally, he started to take the outfit off with great care. He placed them on hangars before putting the boots in the closet and hanging the entire outfit on the door going to his bathroom. Right after that, he picked up the phone and called the closest gym. Every night for five years, it was the first thing he saw when he woke and the last thing he saw before he went to sleep. His dreams were filled with the goal of making the outfit his. The night he tried it on, something finally clicked in his head. He wanted to be the muscled leather daddy more than anything. He was just not honest with himself until that moment when he had the entire outfit on. So, for five years, he drowned himself in the bodybuilder lifestyle. Every moment was either work, gym, or eating. He denied himself anything that would tempt him from his goal. Every night, he would look at the leather outfit and say to himself, “Not yet.” It drove him, consumed him to the point where nothing else mattered. But, it made him happy. Before, he had no reason to live except to keep living. Now, he had a goal. And he would see his goal realized one Friday night. He had just came from the gym blasting his calves, forearms, bis and abs. He stood in front of the same mirror that had shown him all his flaws five years ago and smiled. “It’s time,” he said as he went to his bathroom door and retrieved the leather outfit. He had made sure to take perfect care of the outfit even though he never wore it, and it still shone as if it were new. Just like five years ago, he started with the jock strap. Pulling the mesh fabric up, he smiled at the fact that it now fit perfectly. It was snug around his hips and his cock fit perfectly in the pouch. He arranged his balls a bit and soon, he had a nice bulge that was already start to swell from the attention. He focused on not getting too hard and reached for the next item. The tank top was still white and soft even though it was unused. He gently slipped it on over his head and let it drop. But, unlike the last time he put it on, this time it didn’t look silly. Now, the tank top hung well on his thick traps, the straps barely covering his built pecs. He did a quick front lat pose and saw his lats flare outward from the sides of the shirt, spreading like a pair of muscled slabs of beef. His chest pressed against the fabric, almost spilling out from behind the thin straps holding it on his shoulders. He raised his arms in a double biceps pose and smiled as he saw the mound of muscle rise upward from his arms. He was lucky that he learned how to train early when he signed up to the gym because his work was showing. He nodded approvingly at the shape of not just his biceps, but of his triceps and forearms too. He was glad that he learned triceps make up the majority of the arm and worked them as hard as he did his biceps. Satasified with how the tank fit, he grabbed the leather pants. He confidently held them up in front of him, inspecting their sheen and shine. He then started to put them on. As he struggled with them, he remembered how they felt like parachute pants when he got them five years ago. But, this time, he had to tug on them quite hard. Sam knew that his legs were by far the best improved part of him, but it wasn’t until he tried the pants on did he realize how much they had grew. Just judging by how they felt then, when he couldn’t feel any leather on his leg, and now, when he was grunting just to pull up the pants a few inches at a time, he had to guess his legs had at least tripled in size. Finally, he had the pants completely up and buttoned. He looked at the mirror as he tucked in his tank top and sucked in a quick breath. He looked amazing. The pants looked so tight on him, he could see every curve and bulge in his legs. He could see the pouch where his cock was resting, slowly awakening to the sight of the huge muscles encased in leather. His gaze fell downward, following the massive sweep of his quads. There were indentions and crevices where the leather sunk in, molding to his massive thighs. The roundness and thickness of his legs was slightly interrupted by his knees, but continued at his calves where they swelled outward, both to in width and in depth. Sam felt himself getting harder as he examined his lower body. He could see his cock thickening and snaking down his pants and he reached in and adjusted himself slightly. When he was done, he looked back in the mirror and sighed happily. His ever growing cock added to the beauty of the image, swelling down his right leg, yet pinned tightly by the snugness of the pants. He reached for the jacket next and started to put it on. It was a struggle with his huge back, but eventually he got it on. It also was a tight fit, molding and contouring to his massive frame. His arms barely fit through the sleeves and there was no way he was going to be able to zip it up. He smiled, thankful that it was a warm night. He picked up his phone and started dialing a number as he walked to his front door. As he shoved his keys in his pocket, he heard the click of someone picking up, “Hola! This esss Georigo!” “Hey Georgio. This is Sam.” “Ahh Sam, esss so good to hear from joo. It has beeeen sooo very long.” Sam replied with a smile as he closed his door, not to mention a chapter of his life, “I was wondering, do you happen to have a room available?” This post has been promoted to an article
  10. xythanshadow

    growth An Alternative Choice

    The low hum and steady beep of the machine slowly brought David back to consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the harsh florescent light that hung above him. He tried to move, but every nerve in his body seemed to scream in pain. He felt some motion to his left and slowly rotated his head to see his friend Jack sitting beside him. “What happened?” David asked, his voice dry and heaving. Coach Jack quickly shut his book and leaned closer to him, “Hey bud, you scared us there. From what your students said, you just collapsed during your lecture. The doc said you had a heart attack.” David closed his eyes and silently cursed. Jack continued, “Let me go find the doc. He said he needed to talk to you when you woke up.” Jack beamed David a brilliant smile before he got up and left the room. David, on the other hand was cursing his stupidity. His physician had told him for years now that if he didn’t shape up, something like this would happen. He knew he was a diabetic, had hypertension and was morbidly obese, but he didn’t try hard enough to change his habits. Just the simple fact that every school year he had to buy all new clothes to fit his expanding waist line should have been a clue, but being the stubborn, lazy guy he was didn’t do anything to change himself. And now, he was lying in a hospital. “Stupid, stupid,” he said quietly. He wanted to kick himself if he wasn’t feeling so weak. As he waited for Jack to get back, he started to get bored, so he tried to look around the room. He could see to his left and right, but in front of him was blocked by his bloated gut. He cringed slightly at the size of it, despairing at how out of control he allowed it. It was a huge ball of fat sitting on top of him, completely blocking his view. He wanted to blame it on all the late night eating and not exercising because of his teaching job, but he knew deep down that he could have fit in some exercise if he tried and his diet had no excuse for being junk food and fast food burgers. As he was wallowing in self-loathing, he heard a creak from his right. He turned his head to see Jack closely followed by a older man in a white coat. Jack smiled as he walked back around the bed but the doctor following behind him looked a lot more solemn. “So Doc, when can David here get back to teaching?” Jack asked with jovial tone. The doctor looked down at his chart before looking at David and Jack. “Mr. Dale, I see here that you were diagnosed with Type II diabetes around five years ago and hypertension about four years. What lifestyle changes did you make?” David winced slightly as he felt Jack looking at him. “Well, you see, I was meaning to start exercising more and eating,” he started before the doctor cut him off. “I see.” He walked towards the foot of the bed and pulled out a pen. “Tell me Mr. Dale, can you feel this?” David craned his neck to try and see what the doctor was doing, but his massive belly was in the way. “No, I don’t feel anything.” The doctor mumbled to himself before saying, “And how about this?” “No, still nothing.” The doctor put the pen back in his pocket before walking around the bed. “Move your arm please,” he asked. David, slightly worried, moved his arms upward as the doctor nodded. “That is good,” the doctor said as he scribbled something on his clipboard. “Well, what’s the verdict?” Jack asked.“Well Mr. Dale, I’m sorry to tell you that you had a stroke and a heart attack. And the combination of those two events seemed to have caused some paralysis in the lower half of your body. I’m sorry, but I would advise against going back into teaching until your risk factors have been lowered by a great deal. David’s heart shattered at the doctor’s words. Teaching was all he had in life and because of stupidity on his part, he had lost not just his legs but his reason for living. “I’ll leave you alone for a while. Just press the button if you need anything.” After the doctor left, Jack stood up. David turned away slightly so Jack couldn’t see how upset he was. “Anything I can get for you?” David shook his head no and Jack continued, “Ok. I’m going to go to the cafeteria real quick and make a few phone calls.” David simply said, “Ok” and closed his eyes. He knew Jack had to call the school to get a replacement teacher for him. He listened to the door close and sat in the quiet room, close to crying. He kept saying to himself, “How could I be so stupid? All I had to do was eat better or exercise or something and this would’ve never happened. Why did I let myself get like this?” He continued to berate himself until he fell asleep from exhaustion. While he fell into a deep pit of darkness, he saw a small pinprick of light. Not knowing what else to do, he floated towards down to it. As he moved closer to the light, it grew and grew until it engulfed his entire being. He stopped moving and just hovered in a warm, bright glow. For the first time since in years, he felt like everything was right. He smiled as he wrapped himself in the intangible threads of comfort that surrounded him. Then, he heard a voice whisper beside him, “Hello David.” For some reason, David wasn’t startled. The voice was so gentle and soothing, he felt no fear or anxiety as it spoke. “I’ve been watching you for a while and while you’ve made some mistakes in your life, you have always had the best interest of others in your mind, even before your own. I’ve decided that I will give you a very, very special gift. I want you to think about your past life, and I want you to focus on a single thing you wish you could change. One moment in time that you look back at and wish you could have made a different choice.” David started to let his mind wonder, and flashing in the emptiness before him appeared scenes from his life. Everything flew by rapidly, but they all seemed to converge on one moment in the past. Finally, the images slowed down and started to replay his first few weeks in middle school. Immediately, he knew what he wanted to change. “If I could change anything, I would have not given up so easily on the weight lifting sessions after school. I liked it, but for some reason I didn’t stick with it. I wish I had the drive and determination to lift and play football instead of being so shy and scared of what people would have thought,” he said aloud. Soon as he said that, the day in question started playing before him. David saw himself lifting on the bench. He could see the smile on his face as he felt his muscles working for the first time. Then he saw the look on his face as he looked around at the other kids in the weight room. He could see the fear that he felt then, knowing that he was getting aroused by the weights and the other kids lifting in the area. He could see the mental anguish he was feeling as he struggled to convince himself that he wasn’t gay. Finally, he could see the pain and defeat in his eyes as he put up the weights and went to leave. The scene stopped as soon as the door was opened. “Here is the point of choice. What would you change here?” the soft voice asked. Thinking carefully, David said loudly, “I would change my entire outlook right there. I would make it so he didn’t feel ashamed about the feelings he was having. I would let him know that getting aroused at the sight of muscle wasn’t a bad thing. And I would give him the focus to stick with it no matter what. I would let him know how much fun it is lifting weights and playing football, and how, even though it might not seem so right then, there were a lot of people in the world that felt the exact same way he did and eventually, he would discover an entire world of gay lifters and bodybuilders to fit in with.” “So shall it be.” The scene before him started playing and he continued out the door, but he was stopped by a large, muscular man. David couldn’t tell what was being said, but he could see the expression of awe and wonder on the his young face. As he talked, David could see his younger self begin to cry and fall forward into the bigger man’s embrace. It took a few moments, but eventually, the muscle man stopped talking and his younger self stood up, dried his eyes and smiled at the big man. The man pointed back inside and David returned to the weight room. The scene faded away and he heard the soft voice whisper, “You have been given a great chance David, remember always, be true to yourself and your life will be filled with joy and happiness.” As soon as the voice finished, the light started to fade. “Hey man! Wake up!” David’s eyes began to open slowly as some person shook him. He looked up to see Jack’s face again, but this time there was something different. Instead of a look of worry, there was simply a jovial smile on his face, coupled with a sense of bemusement. “Dude, I had no idea you were THAT afraid of needles.” “What are you talking about man?” “You mean you don’t remember? I mean, we come here to donate blood with the rest of the team, and the guys were laughing because their huge musclebound coach faints at the sight of a little needle.” “Who me?” “No, I’m talking about the queen of Sheba? How many other huge muscle bound coaches do you know?” David was about to reply, but suddenly his memories started changing. It started from his middle school experience when he chose to stick with weight lifting instead of giving it up. He didn’t even know why he was thinking about giving up lifting. It was such a great feeling in his muscles when he lifted. And who cares if he got hard every time he lifted. It was just the testosterone running through his system. That’s what the big man said. It was perfectly normal to pop boners like that. Even being gay was ok as long as he was happy with himself. The big man had told him so many things that made perfect sense and helped him get through that rough patch in his life. He remembered how rough it was to start, being an openly gay guy in the weight room, but just like the big man said, as long as he was truthful to himself, it would be ok. And it did turn out alright. The coaches saw him as a hard working and dedicated kid and his focus paid off. He grew a lot, his body responding well to all the working out. It seems that he had a lot of testosterone in his system and it went a long way to making him big. He remembered the years of playing football and wrestling, how he just kept growing and growing as he played. He remember the day he got the nickname “Dave the Dozer” from how he plowed through the line. He remembered raising the state championship trophy for football and for wrestling, and he remembered graduating school near the top of his class, and by far the biggest one there. Then, he remembered going to college, learning how to teach kids and coach, vowing that he would give back to his community. He also wrestled and played ball there, repeating the accomplishments of his younger years. David shook his head slightly, clearing out the cobwebs and said to his assistant coach, “Hey man, when you can bench 585 for fifteen reps, then you can give me shit about needles.” Jack erupted in laughter as David swung his legs off the bed. Something felt slightly weird as he moved, and he headed straight to the bathroom. When he closed the door, he was confronted by his reflection. He saw himself with fresh eyes. It started with his face. It was tight and masculine and rough from the years playing sports. He sported a goatee, but the rest of his head was bald. He always liked that look because it was so easy to maintain and since he usually wore his coach’s cap, he liked to maintain the image of the rough and strict coach, even though his jocks knew that he had a soft side. His eyes went down to his neck, thick and bulging with power. He could see the veins that trailed down the massive pillar that connected his head to his torso. Even though it was only visible for a few inches because of his traps, you still could see the power left over from when he wrestled. His shoulders and traps were massive, so wide they spilled off the mirror. He could remember the hours of doing shrugs and presses to get his shoulders to cap off with the thick layer of muscle that they had. His arms were amazingly huge and he was thankful for the genetics that gave him his massive pipes. The last time he had measured them, they were 25 inches flexed, with a pair of hairy forearms that looked like they belonged on Popeye. The polo shirt that he wore was a XXXL, but it still was stretched across his chest like it was Saran Wrap. The school’s mascot that sat on his left pec was just as equally stretched, letting onlookers imagine how massive his chest and back were. He hated how the shirt fit because while the chest was almost uncomfortably tight, the waist billowed in the wind if he didn’t tuck it into his shorts. He knew that underneath the shirt was a hair covered, mainly chest and torso, flat and hard as a rock from all the exercise that he did every day with his players. He looked at his legs, noticing the gym shorts he had on. He remembered that he was going to order some new clothes to try and fit his massive legs. He saw the thick quads and vascular hamstrings attached to his legs, thinking about how his legs were bigger than most people’s waists and chest. He flexed them a little in the mirror, thinking about how he and his team had to do squats today. Finally, he flexed his calves and saw the football sized muscle pop into sharp relief. He smiled to himself, “Yeah, going to have to hit those hard too.” He quickly washed his hands, shaking the last remenents of memory from his old life away before leaving the bathroom. Jack was standing there laughing still and David jabbed him in the shoulder. Jack laughed and rubbed his arm as David said, “Ok, ok. Let’s head on back. We’re going to need extra time for practice today because I swear, anyone that laughs is going to get extra laps.” The two of them started to laugh as they left the hospital room. As soon as they left the room, a figure materialized behind them. The white gowned woman floated towards the window and smiled. “See Kaos, you’re not the only one who can make massive muscled men.” This post has been promoted to an article
  11. xythanshadow

    growth Kaos Presents: Life 2.0

    Johnny walked up the steps to his apartment after a long day at work. He dragged his feet as he slowly worked his way up the building’s stairs, cursing the lack of an elevator the entire way. He finally reached his apartment and found a simple cardboard box addressed to him lying on the ground outside his door. He bent over, groaning as he did to pick it up, then headed into the apartment. Once he got inside, he tossed his briefcase next to the computer and examined the box a bit more closely. It had a pretty simple label on it; his name and address but no return address. Just a company name: Kaos Corp. He opened the box and found inside simply a CD case. Johnny smiled to himself, “Must be a new piece of beta software.” He read the label and it said “Life 2.0” His mind ran a bit, trying to figure out what it could be as he sat down to his very fancy computer. The install process didn’t take that much time. Soon, he was staring at an intro. He brought over a pen and notepad and started to make notes. The intro was very well done in his opinion. It featured excellent graphics of people morphing into other people. Thin people morphed into big muscle people who then morphed into women, who then morphed into fat guys, and every variation that lied in between. He wrote some notes, praising the creators, then pressed the start button. The next screen had in bold yellow at the top “Character Creator”. He saw two silhouetted figures, one male and one female. He clicked on one figure and it moved to the foreground while the other went to the background. The figure in the foreground rotated as a next button became highlighted. He clicked between the two to see how well it transitioned before he selected “Male” and pressed next. The next screen offered him the choice of difficulty. He selected the hardest difficulty and pressed next. The third screen was by far the most interesting he had seen so far. At the top of the screen was a pull down box. Inside it were several professions ranging from waiter to politician to athlete; all walks of life and salaries were found within. He noticed as he switched from one profession to another, the various pull down boxes below that would light up with different traits and skills, each with a slider beneath them. He glanced over them, marveling at the apparent complexity of the system. As a waiter, he would have traits like patience, charisma, attitude, and others while a politician would have sliders for traits like morality, speech crafting, likeability and more. He settled on an athlete. When he locked in that choice, a second box appeared underneath it. In that box, he had choices ranging from archer to weightlifter. While scrolling through the choices, he noticed that fewer of the pull down boxes changed as he went from sport to sport. He nodded to himself; it made a lot of sense how it was set up. All athletes share certain traits that make them athletes. He wrote a few notes praising the designer and pressed the random select button. The system selected “Bodybuilder” as the athlete type. The cursor moved down to the slider area and a message saying “40 points available” appeared on his screen. His available traits were “Concentration”, “Coordination”, “Determination”, “Genetics”, “Lifestyle”, “Mental”, “Support”, and “Training”. He had no real idea what he needed to put the points into. Each started at a base of 5 and went to a max of 25, so he could have maxed out two traits or spent his points evenly among all of his traits. But, when he went to spend points, he noticed some were linked to others. He would spend points in Concentration and the Determination and Mental stats would rise slightly. Genetics and Lifestyle seemed to be linked, Coordination and Training were linked, and Support and Lifestyle were. Again, Johnny was awed. He enjoyed the depth and complexity of the system. He eventually settled on having his genetics close to max, followed by determination, concentration, training, coordination, lifestyle and support. He made sure to spend his points in a balanced way because he didn’t want to hurt himself in the long run. After that was all completed, he pressed the save and continue button. The next screen that popped up asked him to smile. He saw his built in web cam light up, so he looked at it and smiled. A few seconds later, his face was staring back at him. The prompt asked if he wanted to retake the picture, which he declined to, and it continued. The next page is what surprised him the most. He saw his face on top of what looked to be a wire frame model of a huge man. He watched as a progress bar appeared on the screen that said, “Analyzing racial and genetic features: Please wait”. As the bar progressed, he saw on the left side of the screen various tabs being filled in automatically. He saw his race, ethnic background, parents race and background and his grandparents background all fill in. He was quite surprised that the computer was completely right about his family tree. After the progress bar was filled, a prompt appeared on the screen. “Auto adjust to fit trait selections? Yes – No”. He selected yes and watched as slight modifications were made to his family tree; both of his grandfathers’ race changed and one of his grandmothers’ changed, which in turn changed both of his parents and in turn changed him. After that process was finished, the face on the wire frame altered itself. Johnny was very surprised and impressed by how good it looked when it finished. It still looked like him at the base, but the features were stronger, sharper and more masculine than normal. He also noticed thicker hair and a tougher demeanor. Then the wire frame began to fill in. It exploded with muscle right before his eyes. Almost faster than he could see it, the model changed into what he could only consider a dream. The stats said the avatar was 6’2” and 250 lbs. He was in perfect contest shape from what he could tell. Clad in a blue singlet that clung to his body like a second skin, Johnny could see every muscle in sharp relief. From his thick neck to his boulder size shoulders, ham sized arms, barreled chest down to his tapered waist and his tree truck legs and bullish calves. The avatar was close to perfection and made Johnny feel glad he put a lot of points into genetics. He pressed the save and continue button and was greeted by a EULA screen. It started with the words “By clicking continue, you agree to the “Terms and Limitations” that…”. Johnny skipped down to the end, like he did with almost every piece of software he owned and checked the “I agree” button and pressed Continue. Suddenly, the power went out and plunged his world into darkness. When the power came back on, everything was completely different. His apartment was gone. He now stood in what seemed to be a jock’s apartment. No longer were there computers and books around, but instead he saw bodybuilding magazines, trophies, dumbbells and weights all over the place. For a moment, he thought something was wrong, but then he saw himself in the mirror and everything flashed. He was Jonathan Armstrong, up and coming bodybuilder. He was getting ready to try and get his pro card for the 3rd time in a few weeks. Granted, everyone said he should’ve had it when he first stepped on stage, but he knew it was all politics. They couldn’t deny him this year though. He was completely ripped and bigger than ever. He had spent the entire year focused solely on getting huge with his weight lifting bud and partner. He and James were two of the most dedicated lifters at his gym and while James did more power lifting than body building, Jonathan couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Jonathan began to go through his routine in front of the mirror. He had some problems with the rhythmic routine that his advisor made for him, but he was getting the hang of it. “When you look this good, who cares if you have two left feet,” he said to himself. He turned in the mirror, flexed his bicep, and then moved to the next pose. He watched himself carefully, dissecting every motion for any weakness. He was quite satisfied with his physique. He was huge, strong and built. Bodybuilding and training was everything and he was quite happy with his life. He raised his right arm and flexed it one last time, watching the mound of muscle rise to an amazing peak. James came in behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist and squeezed his lover. No words were spoken between the two as Jonathan led the way to their bedroom. Outside their door, a muscular man walked away from their apartment spinning a DVD on his finger. He chuckled to himself, “Another satisfied customer,” before he faded into nothingness. This post has been promoted to an article
  12. xythanshadow

    m/m Here To Help

    I though it was going to be another normal day at the gym. I was beginning to get frustrated with the whole ‘lifting’ thing. I had been working out for over six months and I had nothing to show for it. But I had kept coming, kept lifting, and kept hoping that something would change. I had loaded the bench with a 45lb plate on each side. I was happy that I could do that, but disappointed that I was stuck at that weight for so long. Then, before I could lie down on the bench, I felt something. A presence if you would. I turned to see a man that if I saw him in a picture, I would’ve said he wasn’t real. The moment I turned, my gaze hit his chest. And my god, what a chest it was. The blue Underarmor shirt he wore did nothing to hide the massive pecs that lay underneath. It was slightly sweat-stained at this point, obviously from an amazing workout because I could see the striations of his colossal chest. I could even make out the veins pulsing underneath the fabric. His chest wasn’t the only thing that hypnotized me. My eyes went down before they went up and took in all his magnificent physique. He had a V-shape to his torso that would’ve made most professional bodybuilders jealous. His chest and lats spread out so far that I doubted I could reach around to his back and tapered down to a waist that looked so narrow, I wondered how it could hold up his enormous chest without breaking. The shirt was stretched to the point of deformity around his chest but sagged at the point where it was tucked into his shorts. My eyes continued to drift down and caught a glimpse of his beautiful legs. They were clad in matching Underarmor and I knew that this man’s physique was what they had in mind when they designed the clothing line. His quads were amazingly developed and had the size that most people couldn’t even begin to dream about. The shorts hugged every contour and indention of his meaty leg, doing nothing but enhancing the overall beauty of the gigantic muscle. His calves were just as stunning as the rest of him. They weren’t the classic diamond shape, but they were remarkably thick, befitting the rest of the leg perfectly. I finally looked back up at his arms. Arms are a favorite body part of mine and he had by far the best set of guns I have ever seen, even counting the dozens of morphs I’ve seen in my life. They were, for lack of a better word, awing. I know my jaw hit the floor when I saw those pythons. I could see why he wore a sleeveless shirt. At least twenty-four inches of pure, unadulterated mass hung from his beefy shoulders. The bicep that crested the top of his arm was so huge and developed, it had to come from the depths of someone’s fantasy. The Clydesdale horseshoe that was suspended from the back of his arm looked like it was sculpted from marble and was in perfect proportion to the huge bicep that was opposite. Even his forearms were massive, writhing with veins and covered in a beautiful layer of black hair. I finally looked at his face and was stunned. When God created man, he must’ve made him look like what I was seeing. It was perfect. His face was so defined, so masculine, I wanted to touch it to see if it was real. He had a jawbone that exuded power and authority, covered with a full black beard that made you think he had to be either in construction or a lumberjack or any of the real manly jobs. He had a few scars, but they did nothing to detract from his appearance. They only added to the natural ruggedness that was already there. And his eyes were amazing, jade green, so deep you could fall in them and never come out. He smiled at me and said, “Let me give you a hand, I’m here to help.” I felt like I was melting at that point. His voice was like the finest silk being drawn slowly along my ears. I could do nothing but nod in agreement. He strutted towards me, smiling a perfect grin as he came. He stood behind the bench where I was planning on working and waited for me. I snapped out of my daze and lay down and placed my hands on the bar. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to lift with this beautiful man standing over me, but I tried. For some reason, the set felt easier than normal. He didn’t do much to help me, just kept his fingers under the bar, staring at me, whispering encouragement as I lifted. After the set, he walked around, grabbed two more 45s and put them on. When I was about to get up and help him, he simply smiled and told me to stay where I was. Not wanting to disobey him, I watched as he increased the bar to double my max weight. I assumed he was going to work out with me, but when he got back behind the bench, I realized he wanted me to lift that. “I can’t do that!” I said in shock. He simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I’m here to help ya.” I stared at him in disbelief, but he simply nodded and smiled again. With a deep sigh, I lay back down and wrapped my hands around the bar. He helped me unrack it and immediately I felt the pressure of the weight. It almost came crashing down on my chest, but he was right there spotting me. “C’mon man, you got this shit. This is easy weight.” I didn’t believe him, but I put everything I had into pushing it up. Slowly, the weight began to rise. Then, I lowered it again and pressed it up. As each rep passed, it felt easier and easier to lift. Soon, I had done ten reps with a weight I never would’ve been able to do alone. I racked the bar with a growl. I felt amazing. I was about to jump up from the bench before he stopped me. “Don’t move,” he said, his low voice cutting through to my soul. He added two more 45s to the bar and told me to lift. We went through the same thing that happened before. First the unrack, then the feeling like it was going to be impossible, then the slow realization that I could do it and then doing it. We did that three more times with me ending up benching 405 lbs. I couldn’t believe it myself, but when he allowed me to stand up and see myself in the mirror, I could see why. My chest had grown to be huge. It was sexy yet comical at the same time. My pecs had grown to be almost as large as his, yet they looked completely out of place on my body. I looked at him and said, “What in the world is going on!” It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful; it was that I was completely amazed and somewhat scared. He simply ignored my outburst and said, “Think it’s bout time for you to hit legs.” Part of me was in shock. It wanted to run as fast as I could, fearful of what could happen. The other part of me was in lust. Lust for a body that far exceeded what I had. And by some stroke of fate or luck, here was my chance. The brass ring was right there. All I had to do was reach out and grab it. So, I headed to the squat rack with the big man right behind me. I loaded it up with 185 lbs and he went ahead and added two more 45’s. I looked at him in disbelief again, but he simply laid his huge hand on my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry. I’m here to help.” Again, the weight felt like it was going to crush me. I could see my back snapping under the strain, but somehow, I got back up from the squat. Then another rep, then another. Before I knew it, I had done fifteen reps and racked the bar with authority. He added a couple more plates and ordered me to lift. I did so willingly. I didn’t know why, but I knew that I could as long as he was there. Soon, I was squatting 585 lbs. The bar had a slight bend from the weight as I lowered myself to the ground before powering back up. It felt great to do that. My legs felt so strong, almost invincible. Then, the big man took me by the shoulder and showed me the mirror. My legs had inflated to mammoth proportions. They now matched the chest that had been built earlier. I could call them tree trunks now. They were so wide I had to adjust myself a bit. The shorts that I had on had ridden up my legs to the point that they looked like bikini briefs and no matter how much I tugged on them, they refused to go an inch down my massive legs. I sighed with content as my eyes traced the valleys and contours that now etched my immense limbs. Before I could say anything, I felt his hand again. “Arms now.” I gladly followed him to the dumbbells, and soon, I was curling like there was no tomorrow. I’m not sure how much time had passed. I was too enthralled with the workout this giant was giving me. I did a full body workout with him there to help me the whole time. Every set was heavier than the first, each exercise completely destroyed what I thought were my maxes. By the time it was all said and done, I was completely exhausted. My clothes were drenched with sweat, but they also were skin tight. I looked at the big man expectantly. I couldn’t wait for what he had planned. But he simply smiled at me, turned me towards the locker room and gave me a gentle push. “Time to shower up,” he said with his deep baritone voice. I headed straight to my locker and, after a quick change, headed to the shower. It was a big communal one, left over the past that reminded me so much of high school. I never liked showering here unless I was alone. Looking around quickly to make sure no one was around, I turned on the spray to full blast and hot. Soon, the room was filled with a wonderful heated steam. The water on my skin felt amazing. Not only did it relieve the tension I was feeling, but it also accentuated the feeling of my new body. I took time to explore each and every crevice and new muscle. It was all like some dream, an unfulfilled fantasy that I’ve always had, now made real. I started to touch my hardening cock when a deep voice said, “Let me give you a hand, I’m here to help.” I spun around to see the huge guy that I knew caused all this standing before me, gloriously naked and soaking wet. The water made him look even bigger and sexier than I could’ve imagined, and when my eyes saw his meat, I almost choked. It hung low on him, almost to the middle of his quads against a backdrop of egg sized balls full of his super spunk. It was so much bigger than mine, I wondered how it would feel to have it in my hands, or better yet, be impaled on it. He reached out and grabbed my cock. Instantly, I felt like I would cum. He simply smiled and gripped it tighter, somehow stopping what felt like an inevitable orgasm. I could do nothing but stand there and let him manhandle my dick. He was obviously a master. His hands were rough and calloused from all the obvious lifting he did, but that only served to heighten the pleasure I was feeling. He continued to stroke my cock, slowly at first, bringing me close to the edge, then bringing me back. He changed speeds, tightened and loosened his grip, and did so many other things I would’ve never thought of, each time, taking me closer and closer to exploding. Finally, the tempo increased to the point where I knew I was going to explode. He gripped my dick tight, and with one final stroke, I came. I came and I came and I came, it was so powerful I felt like everything in me was draining out through my balls. My orgasm was so intense my body fell against the wall and slowly slumped to the ground. As soon as I hit the floor, I blacked out. I woke up a moment later to find that the big man wasn’t in the shower anymore. I hopped up, but was thrown off by something. Everything felt wrong. Then I realized my center of gravity was different. I walked out of the shower and stopped by the nearest mirror. When I got there, I was completely stunned. I was amazing. I had gotten huge, even bigger than when I was working out with the giant. Obviously, I was a bit taller, and every inch of me was covered with muscle. I flexed a few times, getting a feel for my new body and of course, seeing how hard and unmovable I had become. All these new experiences was getting me excited and my gaze fell to my cock. I stopped breathing all together from the shock. If I had a trouser snake before, what was hanging from my crotch now was a full grown anaconda. It was huge and thick, so meaty I couldn’t grip it completely with a pair of balls that could’ve substituted with golf balls. I had to thank the guy who somehow did this. I ran to my locker to find something to wear, hoping that my shorts were still able to at least cover my new package. When I opened the door, I saw that everything I brought was gone. In its place was a wrestling singlet, a new gym bag and a pair of chrome shades. I smiled again and quickly put on the singlet. It felt erotic having the fabric rub against my new furry, muscled body. I had to concentrate on not getting another hard on because it would have definitely shown. After getting dressed, I quickly went out the locker room and looked around. There was no one around that was even close to his size, so I went to the closest person and asked, “Hey man, have you seen a guy come out here, bigger than me, built like a brick shit house, black hair, green eyes?” The guy looked at me like I just beamed in from another planet, “Dude, I’ve been here for a few hours today and a few years at this gym and I’ve never seen anyone near as big as you.” I smiled. I wanted to thank him for the amazing gift he gave me. I didn’t even know his name, but I knew he changed my life permanently. I had to think of something worthy to do. Looking around the gym, I saw a guy that was a lot like me a few hours ago: Obviously been in the gym for a while, little but determined, yet making no progress. He was about to start benching when I walked up, put my hand on his shoulder and said, “Let me give you a hand, I’m here to help.” This post has been promoted to an article
  13. incognitotie

    Growing To Fit (Chapters 1-3)

    Moving this over from the evolution forum. Started this some time ago and kind of... Petered out. Not sure why I stopped (college might have something to do with it), but I hope to start it up again! Without further ado, here is the story of Ev, who's life is taking a series of strange turns. Some of them bigger than others. CHAPTER 1 Ev shrugged his gym bag off his shoulder, the small thud echoing through his empty apartment. Trudging towards the refrigerator, he flipped on the TV for some background noise while he made dinner. A news anchor in a red pantsuit appeared on the screen as Ev rummaged through leftovers and new groceries. "-the company has voluntarily issued this recall. The company issued it so quickly, in fact, that most stores hadn't even shelved the product at all. The product, an after wor-" Ev cut off the woman's story by flipping channels, eventually settling on a rerun of some sitcom. He sat down with a lukewarm chicken breast and some questionable, canned vegetables. About to lose himself in the protagonist's latest struggle, Ev gave a small, frustrated sigh and stood back up. "I almost forgot to take that after workout drink I got today," he mumbled to himself. Rummaging thought the gym bag, Ev pulled out a small, purple bottle. BULK OUT! the yellow label seemed to shout. He was pretty sure this was some new gimmick for gains, but at this point Ev was desperate. After years at the gym he had managed to lose almost all of the fat on his body, but his muscle gains were practically nonexistent. No matter what new workout trend or new weight gain diet he tried, nothing worked. His body seemed determined to stay at 130 lbs. And at almost six feet tall, that left something to be desired. When he would complain to his friends, they'd shrug him off. You're fine, they'd say. You have good looks. Ev had learned the hard way, though, that guys didn't want you if all you had to offer was a decent face set with green eyes and framed with dark brown hair. Not to mention when your 'friend' was a little smaller than average. It seemed he was doomed from adolescence though. All of his clothes were always too big on his frame. His parents hoped he would grow into them, as did he, but that never happened. Shaking the negative thoughts from his head, Ev twisted off the cap and downed the thick concoction. The foul taste only registered after most of it was down his throat, and he struggled to swallow the rest. After drinking heavily from the glass of water he poured for dinner, Ev sunk back into the couch to drown the lonely Friday night in the dialogue of a sub par program. At around midnight, he shut off the TV and trodded down the hall to his bedroom. Shucking off his shirt and pants, and nearly losing his underwear in the process (a daily occurrence when you have no ass to speak of and a small waist), Ev slid into bed. Within minutes he was snoring softly. That night, Ev dreamed, for the first time since he was a teen, that he was growing. He laughed as his muscles gained definition, as his frame became wider and larger. His joy turned to pleasure as his muscles grew slightly, giving him the athletic build he had always wanted. He trailed his hands across his abs, his pecs, his arms- anywhere his hands could reach. His grin grew wider as he noticed his newly bulging package, apparently having grown to a respectable size as well. Euphoria still buzzed in Ev's mind when he woke the next morning. Slipping out of bed, he noticed that he felt slightly... off as he moved towards the bathroom. His underwear did feel a little tight, so maybe that was it. Probably shrunk in the wash, he thought. Wouldn't be the first time. As he moved to relieve himself though, Ev froze. The bulge in his boxer briefs was definitely not the one he had gone to bed with. Slowly pulling the waistband down, he looked at his member. It was no longer sub par by any standards. In fact, it was slightly above average now, if anything. Very slowly, Ev raised his gaze up towards the mirror, afraid that he might be wrong about his expectations. His eyes met a set of well defined abs, followed by two pecs that looked to be the product of a hard year or two at the gym. His breath hitched. This couldn't be real. It was too good. Too perfect. Yet his hands affirmed his solid pecs and firm abs, as well as some respectable arms. Looking past his package, Ev saw that his quads and calves hadn't been spared either. After some celebration in with his morning shower, he toweled off and went to get dressed for the day. His joy was briefly dampened when he saw that the only pair of underwear he had clean was the pair he had gotten for Christmas last year. They weren't the brand he usually bought, and although they were his size (small) they ran a little bigger than his usual. He was pleased to find that they actually fit fairly well. They did seem a little loose, but at least they didn't constrict as much as his shrunken underwear did. Dressing completely, Ev left for some morning coffee, like he did every Saturday. Latte in hand, Ev sat at a small table in front of the coffeehouse and enjoyed the morning air. The pleasant cool morning would soon fall to the scorching summer heat, and he wanted to take full advantage of the pleasant air. Looking across the street, Ev almost spewed his coffee. A man with auburn hair and an athletic build was walking out of a small tea shop. The face was so achingly familiar, Ev could swear it was... "Ev! Everett!" It was him. The man he had crushed on all throughout college. Bron. He strode across the street, his sky filled eyes hidden behind Ray Bans and his smile fringed by the perfect amount of stubble. "I thought it was you, Ev!" Bron exclaimed. "I'm glad to see you." "Same," Ev replied. It was all he could seem to get out of his mouth. Luckily, Bron did most of the talking. Ev found out that he had just moved to town for a job opportunity, and was looking for a place to stay. His original plans for an apartment fell through when the landlord accidentally leased the apartment he had reserved to a nasty old woman who refused to give it up. The landlord couldn't force her out, and he couldn't kick her out for another month. "You can crash at my place if you'd like." The words just tumbled out of his mouth, unbidden. Stupid, Ev, he thought to himself, that was too forward. Now you've probably ruined any chance you had with him and he'll- "That'd be great, Ev. Thanks!" He couldn't believe it. Bron was going to be living with him! In a numb state, Ev gave him his address and told him he could come by later that afternoon. Walking back to his apartment, Ev was overjoyed. His body had somehow become the product of his dreams, and the man of his dreams was moving into his apartment. I don't think that today can get any better, Ev thought. CHAPTER 2 As he fished through his pockets for his apartment key, a flash of heat shot through Ev's body. A light sweat broke out over his body, and he began to feel a little light headed. After he locked the door behind him, Ev rushed to the bathroom. Hoping to cool himself off, he splashed cold water on his face. Rivulets of water streaming down his face, Ev looked into the mirror at his slightly flushed face. I hope I'm not getting sick, he thought worriedly. As if in response, the heat that had been surging through his body vanished. Before Ev could wonder why, a tingling sensation, somewhere between when a body part falls asleep and when you brush the roof of your mouth with the tip of your tongue, washed over his body. Ev gave a small groan and closed his eyes. His head tilted back in pleasure. The tingling feeling was all throughout his body but it was the strongest in his main muscle groups. Ev didn't know how long the feeling lasted, but after a time he realized that the tingling had disappeared. Slowly opening his eyes, he realized immediately that things were slightly off. The angle of his reflection in the mirror seemed to show a little more of his lower body, and he felt... pumped up. Somewhat like someone had left an air hose in his body for slightly too long. Ev's eyes widened as he finally looked down at his body. If he had been a division 1 athlete in college, this is what he would have looked like. Pecs that formed a small overhang above a chiseled six pack. Biceps that balled up so big he couldn't even touch the shoulder of the same arm. His calves had developed a definite diamond shape, and his quads and hamstrings gained a size and definition previously unknown to him. And his package, well what a package it was. It bulged nicely from his now very snug boxer briefs, and if it had been questionably above average before, there was no doubt now. After testing out his newly improved member, Ev was engulfed by a sudden wave of sleepiness. He was barely able to make it back into the bedroom before he passed out. A knocking from his apartment door eventually woke Ev up. After laying groggily on the bed for a moment, a jolt of realization cleared the sleep from his head. Bron. Only after he had thrown open the door did Ev realize that his shirt hugged his torso, and that it barely reached the waistband of his shorts. His shorts were pressed tight against his legs, and his package bulged out almost obscenely. Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, Ev cleared his throat. "Let me help you bring your things up," he offered. With every box he hauled up the stairs, Ev could feel Bron's eyes on his back. Or, more accurately, on his ass. After he set down the last box, Ev turned around to see Bron leaning on his counter, temporarily focused on a small potted plant. Ev found his eyes roaming across Bron's body. To Ev, the man in front of him was perfect. Slightly tanned. A stylish swoop in his hair. A body that didn't speak of brute strength, but of agility, grace, and poise. To another observer, Bron would probably seem to be relaxed, if not a little distracted. But to Ev, he was a panther: lithe. At ease. But ready to pounce. Bron turned to look at him, and Ev snapped from his reverie. "Can I offer you a drink?" Ev asked, his face reddening slightly. "I don't have any beer or anything, but I have soda and maybe some orange juice." "I am thirsty," Bron replied,a small smile forming on his lips, "but not for any of those things." Ev's reply was lost in Bron's mouth as it pressed against his. Ev recoiled in surprise, but then returned the kiss enthusiastically. The pair gradually moved towards the bedroom, their clothes being shed along the way until they both fell onto the bed in nothing but their underwear. Hands began to roam across one another's bodies, and then their bodies pressed together. The pair laid in the afterglow for a while, basking in the feeling. Eventually, Bron turned towards Ev. "Are you going to share how you grew since I last saw you?" He prodded, only half teasing. " Both since two years ago and this morning?" Ev's smile faded slightly. "I'm not sure you'd believe me," he answered, gauging Bron's response. "You can tell me, I'll believe you." "Well..."Ev began, then stopped. After searching for the right words for a moment, he began again. "It's like this. Yesterday, after my workout at the gym, I bought a new post workout drink. I'd never seen it before, so I thought I'd try it. This morning I woke up and my body looked like a person who'd been going to the gym for a few years. Then, after I came back from meeting you at the coffee shop this morning, I had a hot flash and I grew even more. After that I fell asleep, woke up and let you in, and now here we are." After a moment of silence, Bron spoke. "Do you still have the bottle that the drink came in?" Ev was slightly taken aback. "You mean you believe me?" He asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "What I told you is basically crazy." "We'll, I don't see another explanation," mused Bron. " Besides, what reason would you have to lie?" Giving a small grunt of agreement, Ev got up and went into the kitchen, returning a little while later with the purple bottle and handing it to Bron. Bron's eyes widened a little when he looked at the label. "Have you looked at the news lately?" Bron asked, worry creeping into his tone. "No," Ev replied, "why?" "Because the company that made this recalled the drinks almost as soon as they'd reached the stores. Said that there was something wrong with the ingredients and that it wasn't safe to stock them. I'm surprised you even managed to buy one. Most places didn't shelve them at all, or pulled them as soon as they heard about the recall." "We'll there sure was something up with whatever ingredients they used," Ev commented, "but I'm not complaining." "I'm not either." And with that, Bron pulled him back onto the bed, pressing his body against Ev's. CHAPTER 3 Ev and Bron remained entangled for the rest of the afternoon, but the persistent growl of Ev's stomach eventually forced the two of them to get up and order pizza. After Ev made the call, and for two extra large pizzas no less, the two sat on the couch together. "So how are you going to explain this when you go back to work?" asked Bron, gesturing at Ev's new body. "We'll it actually works out perfectly," Ev replied with a slight grin, " because I actually start a new job on Monday. Nobody there knows what I look like." "Good for you," Bron teased, "because I'm not sure they'd buy the whole a-post-workout-drink-is-causing-me-to-grow-randomly thing. Speaking of which, you have any idea what's triggering your growth?" Ev frowned slightly. "No clue. There's no pattern that I can see, at least not yet." At that moment there was a sharp knock on the front door, and Ev realized he was wearing nothing but a rather tight pair of underwear. "Shit," he cursed, "that's probably the pizza guy. Can you dig some money out of my wallet while I find something to put on?" Running into the bedroom, Ev quickly looked for any article of clothing. He quickly put on the shorts he had been wearing earlier that day and moved to do the same with the shirt. In his haste though, he tore the seam at the armpit with a loud rip. Throwing that shirt to the side, he then spotted his sleeping shirt. It was ratty and too big, having been won in a contest a few years ago. Throwing it on, Ev noticed that despite his growth, the fabric still hung somewhat loose on his body. Hurrying quickly out of the bedroom, he grabbed the money from Bron, who was moving out of sight of the doorway, and opened the door. He was met with an extremely annoyed teenage girl, holding the pizzas and leering at him with absolute resentment. "Sorry about that," Ev apologized. "I was trying to find enough cash for the pizza." The girl quickly exchanged the pizza for the money, and was striding away down the hall in moments. With a small shrug Ev closed the door and opened one of the boxes, his stomach grumbling on anticipation. After 10 minutes of what can only be described as a pizza massacre, Ev sat back and let out a small belch, a vague sense of contentment settling over him. Bron just sat across the table looking mildly impressed. After all, he had only eaten two slices while Ev had devoured the rest. "So, my big man," said Bron, his voice growing increasingly sultry, "How about we move back to the bedroom?" Ev didn't need to be told twice. He followed the hypnotic roll of Bron's ass back into his bedroom. Bron turned to face Ev, a mischievous light in his eyes. The next second Ev found himself bouncing lightly on the bed, Bron on top of him. With a seductive smile, he moved down Ev's body, tracing a hand beneath his hefty pecs and then down the ridges of his abs. Bron's fingers soon found their way to Ev's briefs, strained by both the muscles and package they contained. He gave the waistband a playful flick before continuing down, tracing the quickly stiffening member with the tip of a finger. The front of the briefs grew wet as precum began to flow. "It looks like someone wants to say hello," Bron murmured. "Let's let him out." But just as Bron hooked his finger on the waistband Ev let out a deep groan, his eyes rolling up slightly. Bron watched in fascination as the muscles in Ev's body twitched and grew. His already large pecs surged out and created a defined shelf above his stomach, all of which could be seen through a now snug T-shirt. His arms now looked like coconuts had been stuffed under his skin, and it probably felt like it too. Massive thighs went from small ham to Thanksgiving turkey size, and his calves reminded Bron of chunks of flagstone from his brief employment as a landscaper. What Bron most noticed, though, was the bulge pushing against an ever-straining set of boxer briefs. The fabric had already ridden up over his expanded thighs, and the ribbed material was already stretched to the max in the front. The shaft of his member grew increasingly pronounced against the thin fabric. A small succession of pops was heard, and now Bron could see that the seams between the leg and the crotch had torn on both sides. The tears grew increasingly larger, to the point where Ev's balls we're beginning to spill out, until the fabric gave out with a surprisingly loud rip. Freed from its confines, Ev's member stiffened to about a foot long, to Bron's pleasant surprise. Surveying the changes, he noticed that Ev's shirt had survived, although it looked like it couldn't have stayed together for much longer. "You feeling okay?" Bron asked as Ev sat up. "I think so," he replied. "Actually, I feel pretty good, and I - ohshit... " Ev was staring in shock at the remnants of his underwear, now just an elastic waistband and some strips of cloth, and his tight shirt. He slid off of the bed and thudded into the bathroom. "Holy shit, I'm huge!" Ev exclaimed. "Yes you are," Bron said bemusedly. "I think that is undoubtable, really." "Where am I going to find clothes?" lamented Ev, returning to the bedroom. "The Big and Tall store should have some things that will fit you," said Bron, "but I don't think you're going to be able to go anywhere, unless you used to dress in very large clothes for shits and giggles when nobody was around." Ev's unamused expression was enough of an answer. "I'll go over there right now, since they're closing in a little over an hour," Bron decided. "Alright," said Ev, giving an exacerbated sigh. "Could you get me a dress shirt and some dress pants? I don't think mine will fit me now, and I can't show up to work half naked." "Sure thing, and I'll get you some casual clothes too, alright?" "Sounds good to me..." A loud grumble suddenly filled the room, and Ev blushed. "... And do you think you could bring back some food too?"
  14. xythanshadow

    growth Gym Of Dreams: Sam

    "Oh God, I don’t look like that do I?" The day started out normally. I had just finished up my shower and was preparing to shave when I realized that I had run out of shaving cream. I wrap a towel around myself and I head towards my roommate’s bathroom. He was already gone to work and I could roam freely around. I walk into his bathroom and grab the can of shaving gel he uses. Then I saw myself in his full mirror. I was appalled by what I saw. I used to avoid looking at myself, but being confronted with that shocked me. There I was, slightly wet and in a towel, and I hated how I looked. My shoulders hung down as if I were slouching. I had man-boobs that rivaled most women and my gut sagged over the towel around my waist. I hesitated before removing the towel, and I wish I didn’t. Fat continued down towards my penis and it looked like that’s all there was. A small penis protruded from what seemed like a giant fat pocked. I dropped the towel on the floor and I cried. I sat there in my roommate’s bathroom, an hour before I had to be at work and I wept as if I were dying. ************************************************** ***************************************** "Elementary School was amazing. Middle School can only be better’’ Our sixth grade year was coming to a close and we all were excited. School was fun up till now, it can only get better right? Our entire class seemed to look forward to the new school. We were going to meet new people and see new things and it was going to be amazing. How foolish I was back then. Middle School seemed to be horrible for me. During Elementary School, I was smart, a little chubby, and an all around kind guy. Everyone accepted me for that. I was also a bit weird. I specialized in a unique form of martial arts and I naturally felt things that other people couldn’t feel, and sensed things that people were unaware of. I always had a sixth sense about things and people, and it seemed I was one of the luckiest people there. Everyone knew that about me, but didn’t mind it and appreciated it. Middle School, all that changed. Going from where everyone was accepted to your normal cliques was a trying time for me. The friends I used to have became jocks and preppy people while I was resigned to "weird geek". For a while, I continued to hang out with them, but we grew apart. It was only made worse by the publicizing of my "gift". People that I could tell were spiteful began to taunt me about it. And because they were the jocks, more people followed suit. Previously nice people fell to peer pressure. It saddened me greatly, but I took it in stride. I still had some friends and I was doing ok. Then, my life started to get worse. As the oldest son, certain things were expected of me. My mother would ask of things of my younger brother, such as simple household chores or help with a project. Unless he was interested, he would refuse. So, my mother would call upon me. I would go and do whatever she asked, and it put pressure on me to do so. I wanted to be more like my brother, but I felt the responsibility to do what she asked. I felt mounting pressure from all sides, my social, academic, and home life. In the end, me not being able to open up would cause a lot of suffering. This day started out as any other. I’m beaming happiness around me, trying to make others feel better. My presence usually did that and others felt good around me, but today was different. As the day went on, I felt more and more drained, people all around me were either teasing me or were needing to feel better. And I continued to take the taunts and help people. It was nearing the end of the day, and I was outside our gym. I was approached by a guy at my height but more lean and confident. He had his friends with him and decided that he was going to taunt me as I waited for my parent. He followed me calling me a "gay fat ass" repeatedly and something inside me snapped. Sometimes I regret it and sometimes I don’t. I’m sure he has never forgotten. That day, he didn’t go home, but instead to the ER. I ended up shattering a knee, dislocating his shoulder, breaking an elbow and breaking a ball. I did not know before that day that you could break a ball, and I thought it was cool at first. It cost me a week’s suspension, but I felt it was worth it. When I came back to school, I found that the guy who taunted me changed schools. I felt bad for snapping on him and decided that I must lock away my feelings no matter how much. I was dangerous if I got mad and I would have to control it. In the end, that desire for control would be my greatest downfall. From that day on, I showed no emotion. I took every taunt and jab with a smile and I did my best to make everyone feel better. I helped my parents with a smile and never complained. But at the end of the day, I lay in my bed and I cried. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to confess everything to someone, but I had to be strong for everyone. It was hell for me, but I endured it because I saw the look on my mother’s face when I did what she asked when my brother wouldn’t, and I saw how happy people were when I helped them with their problems. But almost every night, I laid alone and I cried. The pressure was getting to me. Constant taunting and constant helping drained me constantly and I spent hours alone in my room just sitting there. It was all I could do to remain sane. No one in my life knew. Not my parents, my friends, my teachers, no one. To everyone, I was the good son, smart student and all around helpful guy. It didn’t change when I was high school. High school started as horrible for me. The teasing that I endured in middle only increased in high. While people around me grew taller and stronger, I grew slightly taller and a lot fatter, which in turn made more people taunt me. I started to grow dejected from it. It took all my effort just to withstand the taunting that I began to show distress in my daily actions. My mother began to ask me what was wrong, but I continued to use the mask of the obedient son. I couldn’t tell anyone my true feelings and it tore me up inside. I knew one day I would probably snap again and I was scared of what I would do. Then I met him. His name was Bacon. Coach Bacon. I was walking around the school near the end of the day, feeling drained as ever. My posture was slumped and my mood projected sadness. He approached me and asked me my name. I told him and he asked what was I doing. I said nothing and he said to me why wasn’t I at football practice. I told him that I never thought about playing football and I was too fat and out of shape. Years of people saying I was fat had crept deep into my psyche and I believed it. He looked at me and said that he wanted me in the weight room fifteen minutes after school ended. I looked at him and I said ok. As we talked, I examined him. He wore a the school’s teacher shirt and a pair of gym shorts, so I knew he had to be a coach, but what impressed me was his size. He was about my height, 5’8’’ (1.72m) and I guessed around 300lbs (136kg). But what struck me most was while most of the coaches were either fat or old and slim, he was solid muscle. He bulged against the shirt well in the chest and arms and the fabric clung to his flat stomach as his shirt was tucked into his shorts. His legs were the proverbial tree trunks and I understood why he wore shorts. It would be almost impossible to fit his massive quads and calves into a pair of pants that fit his smaller waist which I guess was around 30’’ (76cm). He wasn’t ripped like a model, but he was very solidly built. He carried himself with confidence and my senses told me all I needed to know about his personality before he even spoke. To me, he felt like a kind, yet powerful man, stern but fair and loyal to those who’ve proven themselves. He had the aura of a good man, completely truthful and someone I could trust with anything. After he walked off, I went to call my mother and tell her to pick me up later that night. I made my way toward the weight room that was on the edge of the school and on the first floor. En route, I encountered the football team. They were in their practice clothes, wearing no pads for practice that day. Each of them seemed to carry themselves with more confidence than me, and that made them seem to look better than me in my eyes. Each of them seemed to have be playing for years, and their bodies showed the effort they put in the sport. I slunk down, ashamed of myself and walk by, ignoring the questions of what I was doing there and worked my way toward the weight room. I enter the weight room and am confronted by the smell. It smelt like muscle sweat and tears. It was overpowering, but for some reason felt natural to me. I step in a little bit more, entering a slight foyer of it. I look around and see that it’s empty, but for some reason, I’m not comfortable. I say to myself that I just don’t belong here and I turn to leave when he puts his hand on my shoulder. It’s a massive hand, befitting someone like him and firm yet comforting. He turns me around and says to me where I was going. I look at him and I’m awed and I respond, nowhere. He stood in front of me, changed from before. Now, he wore a black tank top that seemed to be huge if it were on me, but hung from his shoulders as if it was tailored for him. His arms, which were big in his teacher’s shirt, seemed massive hanging from his broad shoulders. His chest stood barreled before me, his pecs sitting upon it like two chiseled stones. He also was a lot hairy than I expected. His teacher’s shirt showed his forearms before, but I didn’t notice them until now. His forearms were huge, fitting his upper arms well. They were vascular and hair flowed down them. In the tank top though, you could see that his whole torso was covered with a layer of hair, not thick like an old man’s, but very distinct. It gave him the appearance of a primal force. He had changed his shorts also, wearing a pair that was slightly tighter, I presume so they wouldn’t get in the way of his work outs. They fit his legs snuggly and I could see the distinct outline of his massive cock, seemingly guarded by his massive quads. Everything thing about him seemed to fit and it seemed that he was a man among men to me. He says to me that he was the strength training coach and asked me again why I wasn’t playing ball. I looked into his eyes and I felt compelled to tell him the truth. My senses told me he was someone I could trust completely, so I opened myself to him. I told him everything about my years in middle school and my first year of high school. I told him about my gift and I told him exactly how I felt when I walked by the guys on the football team. He takes me by the shoulder and leads me to the door. We walk out and he points me toward the practice field about 100m away. It’s surrounded by a track and I can see the team practicing. He points at them and asks me what do I see. I tell him that I see big guys and fit guys playing ball. He says to me if I see them better than I am. I frankly state that yes, they were better than me. They were the jocks. They were stronger and faster and better than I was. He turns me to him and asks me if that’s how I really feel. I sadly peer into his eyes and whisper yes. It pained me to no end to say it, but it was true. I always felt less than the jocks. I don’t know when it happened, but one day, It just was like that. I hung my head in shame, tears forming in my eyes. Coach placed his other hand on my shoulder and made me look at him. I couldn’t face him like this. I was breaking down again. I promised to myself that I had to be strong no matter what. But when confronted with him, asking me these questions, peering into my very soul with his sea blue eyes, I felt that couldn’t be strong anymore. I had to let someone know. He took me back into the empty weight room and made me look at him again. By this time, the tears were welling down my face. I couldn’t control myself, I just had to cry. He pulled me closer and made me look into his eyes again. He told me, you have to do something about it or else you always will feel like that. His words were inspiring to me and I began to feel better. I dried my tears and stood up a bit. He said to me, we start your new life today, go get changed. I grabbed my bag and I headed to the bathroom in the weight room. I change into my gym clothes, a baggy T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. When I finished and exited the bathroom, Coach had already set up a bench and a squat rack for me. He said good, you’re ready. He guided me through various stretches, and I followed his every instruction. After thirty minutes of good stretching, he led me to bench. On it, there is one 45lb weight per side. He told me to get on the bench and lift it. I laid down and tried my hardest to lift it, and could only do it twice. I began to feel bad again, I was so weak. He saw my despair and told me that it wasn’t bad, that someone my age with no weight training before was good to do that. He then led me over to the squat rack. As I’m walking, some of the linemen came in. They noticed me and instantly started to tease me. I was about to ignore then but Coach roared at them telling them not to fuck with me. That I had just as much right to be there as they did. And he told them not to mess with me anymore for being who I was. I was shocked. No one ever before stood up for me, and now I had a giant of a man there for me. The other guys went about their business and Coach continued to guide me through the various exercises. I did what he ordered me to squat while he spotted. I felt no one else in the gym while he worked with me. There was nothing else but him and me there at that point. All I could see was him and the weights, all I could hear was his voice and the clanking of plates, and I could smell his scent. I think it was his scent that made me forget about everyone. He smelt uniquely, but not overpoweringly. He smelt of weights and muscle and sweat. Simply put, he smelt like a man. I decided right then that I wanted to grow to be like him. The months passed by in a blur. I worked out everyday with him, his guidance forming me as I lifted what he told me to lift. I felt myself growing stronger and more confident, and I knew that Coach was impressed. He encouraged me daily, saying to keep up the hard work. I also became more and more impressed with him. Even though he was a massive man, he was more gentle and loyal to me than anyone I’ve ever knew. My first feelings about him were completely correct, I thought each day. He was someone I could trust completely, and I did. Plus he constantly amazed me with his strength. I saw him in the course of a few years lift weights I couldn’t imagine. He was constantly challenged by the big guys in the school, trying to prove their alpha status to others. They would place more weight on the bench than I could imagine doing then lift it about three times. Then Coach would stroll over, work out eight to ten reps of it, and then return to helping me. I witnessed him squat every one hundred pound and forty-five pound weight in the gym. I watched him lift and I saw the pure unadulterated power he possessed, and I enjoyed it. Watching his muscles tense and tighten at the weight, and him lifting it as if it was nothing aroused me. I could watch him all day, his chest, his back, his legs, they all were the definition of muscle. Seeing him flex in the mirror after a good pump, his arms bulging and rippling, his pecs standing out, his quads and calves bouncing, his body becoming more and more defined as he worked brought me great pleasure and pride. After a year of hard training, I felt confident enough to try out for the football team. With Coach backing me up, I became a defensive guard. In my mind, I felt better, but still had hang ups about everyone being better than me. At least now I had weightlifting to work out these feelings. I played football my junior year and loved it. But it would seem that my happiness would end soon. My senior year, Coach transferred to another school. Without him, I began to feel less and less confident about myself, and slowly fell from where I was. People began to talk about me again, and I felt more and more depressed. I continued to lift, but not with the intensity that I once possessed with Coach backing me. Eventually, I felt I didn’t belong and I stopped lifting. Slowly, throughout the year, my body which was getting firm and hard with muscle, began to decline. I stopped caring about how I looked and I just took the teasing that came with it. It felt bad, but what else could I do I told myself. ************************************************** ***************************************** "God, how far have I fallen?" I decide to walk over to the scale. It’s been years since I’ve weighed myself, not since I was in high school. Since going to work straight out of high school, I had let my body lose a lot of what I had. I step on the scale and am again shocked and depressed. While in school, I weighed around 250. I was still big but had a good layer of muscle. Right then, the scale showed me nearing 290. I stepped off the scale, picked up my towel and put the shaving cream back. I got dressed and slowly made my way to work. I spent the entire day dejected, crying at my desk at some points. "How could I’ve fallen so far? Why didn’t I stick to my goal? What would Coach say if he saw me now?" Questions ran through my head all day, and when no one was looking, I wept bitter tears. I promised myself that I had to change. I’ll never be happy if I continue to be like this. I would always hang my head low around bigger guys and I would always be ashamed to be shirtless if I didn’t change something. So began my new life. I started by looking up info on the internet about diet and exercise. Alone, I trimmed down a bit and cleaned up my diet greatly. But there’s only so much you can do with diet alone. I knew I had to get into a gym. Around my town, there are about half a dozen gyms, a lot of Gold’s Gyms. I decided to tour various gyms, looking for a place to belong. I started with Gold’s, but the moment I walked in the door, I felt that I didn’t belong. The only people there were people in great shape and huge muscles. Although I loved seeing the big guys work out, I couldn’t stand how I felt they were staring at me. My childhood had come back to haunt me some more. Then I found a home. It was a small gym, reminiscent of my school days. It felt comfortable and it had the same smell as I remember; Metal, sweat and tears. But as I go through it on the tour, I see guys bigger than I can imagine lifting. Their clothing is tight on their bodies and they massive bodies are flexing with power that comes from years of effort. As I walk through the gym, I’m awed at it all and I begin to feel like I didn’t belong again. The tour ends and I’m told that I’m free to work out. I stand and look a bit, seeing the big guys working hard, and I slump again and prepare to leave. On the way to the locker room where I stored my work clothes, I’m stopped by a massive hand on my shoulder. "So, how do you like our gym?" I hear from behind me. The voice is massive and booming, a bass or a baritone, and I feel my senses kicking into high gear. Before I see him, I feel a familiar type of person. I feel strength and power, but with kindness and gentleness. I turn around to see a giant of a man, towering over me at least 6’8’’ (2m). His shoulders are massive and are almost twice as large as me. His chest is barreled and tapers to a perfect V, leading down to his 34’’ (86cm) waist. His arms are as big as my legs and are ripped to shreds. His stomach seems to be rippled with abs through his sleeveless shirt and his legs seem like massive tree trunks, almost as wide as my torso. I look up to him and he reminds me so much of my old Coach. He asks me again, "What do you think?" I say to him after I catch my breath a little, "I don’t know. I feel kinda weird here." "Why is that?" I look into his eyes. They are a shade of sea blue, so reminiscent of my old Coach, and I also feel the same sense of trust that I did from him. I look his massive body, starting to lower my head in shame again, and he says to me, "Wanna talk about it?" We head to the locker room. Even as we walked, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. We get to the locker room and we’re alone. I break down and tell him everything. He ends up listening to my complete story, and he seems very intent on helping me. I manage not to cry and it felt good to let it out. He walks over to my bench and sits down. He placed his massive hand on my shoulder and turn me toward him. "I know what it’s like man. I felt the same way you do now. I felt no one loved me and I was a fat ass who was worthless too." He pulls out his wallet and pulls out a picture. In it I see a guy that looks a lot like me. He is smiling in the picture, but he slouching a lot. His stomach is protruding beneath his shirt and his body is smooth and undefined all over, like I was now. I can sense an aura of sadness coming from the person in the picture and I can feel what he feels. "This was me about 5 years ago" I look at the picture again and I can’t believe it was him. He currently stands at a giant, but in the picture, he seems to be only 6’ tall. His current massive frame seems to dwarf what he used to be. His arms were lanky and thin, his legs chunky, and everything seems to say that it was another person. The only thing that remained the same was his eyes, a gentle sea blue. I could see the pain in his eyes in the picture, the same pain that I experienced now. I look up to him and I see a gentleness in his eyes. They tell me more than his words could ever say. They told me that he truly understood what it was like to be me. They explained that what I’m going through can be overcome. His eyes spoke truisms to me greater than any I ever heard before and I understood what he went through. I begin to breakdown again. Tears start falling from my eyes and I put my head into my hands. He puts his wallet away and he takes me in his massive arms. My tears fall down his barreled chest and he pulls me in tighter. I feel completely safe in his giant hug, and my fears begin to subside. I rub my eyes in his shirt and he gently pats me on my shoulder. I gather my composure and I sit up again. "I don’t know what happened there" I lie. "Yes you do and I know too. I was like you once. I would probably still be as hopeless and sad as you are now if it wasn’t for someone who showed me they cared." I look at him and I sense he truly does care for me. "How can you care about me that much? You’ve just met me and I am such a fat ass." "Stop thinking like that," he chided me. "You’ll never change unless you change how you think. It’s not easy, believe me, but I see that you have a large frame and you’ve worked out before, so you should be familiar with it all" "How can you tell all that?" I questioned, "I look completely fat. You must think I’m horrible" He hits me across the face with a firm slap and growls, "I won’t let my new gym partner talk about himself like that." I was completely shocked and amazed. In thirty minutes, this man has gone from an unknown guy to my giant hero. I stand up with a huge smile on my face. He looks at me and smiles. He stands to his full height and pats me on the shoulder. "Thattaboy, now let’s go hit those weights" he laughs. I watch his huge chest as he laughs and it awes me. I look at it and I desire that power, and I follow him out into the main room. I watch him as he walks and I see how he strides with power and confidence and I wish that I have that one day. I lifted with him that day. I found out that I haven’t lost as much strength as I thought I did and I could still lift a good bit. He stood over me, a muscled colossus, pushing me harder than I’ve ever been pushed before. And I loved every minute of it. I knew deep inside that as long as he was there, I would be safe no matter what the weight. He made me burn muscles I’ve never felt before, and when we were finished and I was spent, he led me to the front counter. "Two of the Usual Joe!" he barks, his deep voice carrying across the gym. "Sure thing Armstrong!" I chuckle aloud, thinking that Armstrong is such a fitting name for this immense man. He looks down at me and says, "Yeah, I forgot to introduce myself, they call me Armstrong. Mike Armstrong." I reach to shake his hand and tell him my name. He grabs my hand and it’s a firm shake, his hand engulfing mine. The guy behind the counter finishes making our shakes, and I am slightly hesitant to drink. I’ve never had anything like this before. Sensing my anxiety, Armstrong leans down a bit and says, "Extra large peanut butter and chocolate, with a little extra something." I’m shocked, peanut butter and chocolate is my favorite combination. I take a giant sip of the concoction, and it tastes slightly funny, but is excellent. Armstrong takes two huge swallows of his and slams the cup down. "Ahh that was good" he bellows. "Hey Joe. This is my new buddy Sam. He’s gonna be under my tab for now." "Ok big guy!" I look up at him while drinking more of my shake. "This guy is amazing. I haven’t known him a day yet and he’s already more than I could’ve ever hoped for." I think to myself. "And he’s huge and powerful. He’s all that I aspire to be. I mean, I’m still working on this shake that he took down in two gulps. Look how his chest works as he talks and his arms move. I hope to be like that one day. No, I will be like that one day. No matter what!" Armstrong finishes his chat with Joe the owner as I finish my shake. "It’s getting late, let’s go clean up," he says to me. I look around the gym and see that there’s only a couple of people left in the gym besides Armstrong, Joe and myself. "Hey Joe, we’re hitting the showers, I’ll lock up when we’re done." Joe nods in agreement. A wave of panic rushes over me. I’ve never been comfortable showering around guys because I was uncomfortable with my size down there, now I am to shower with this behemoth of muscle? I tense up a little and Armstrong whispers, "Don’t worry, it’ll be alright." I gasp slightly, how can he know exactly how I feel so easily. What is it about this man? We work our way to the locker room as the last people leave the gym. Joe locks the door behind him as we enter the locker room. I didn’t get to look around it earlier, but I took the time to look at it more. It was a large room, public shower and a few scales. In the corner was a sauna and the lockers were open except the ones we were using, which ironically were right next to each other. I think to myself how perfect this day has gone so far. Then I look towards Armstrong. He’s already stripped down to nothing and it is here that I catch his full glory. Nothing in the gym came close to comparing to how he looked now, not even him clothed. His upper torso was covered in a light layer of hair that accentuated his enormous pecs. The hair started at his bull-like neck like a collar, and worked down his arms, thinning ever so slightly as it progressed to his hands. The hair seemed to follow every indentation and ripple of his arm, sinking into place where ever he had a depression. The hair on his lower torso was completely different, centered mainly on his rippled abs. I could see eight specific muscles, each more defined by the layer of hair that set upon them and in the crevices between them, but only his abs had hair on them, the rest of his lower torso was completely smooth. The trail of hair led my eyes naturally to his cock. When my eyes got there my heart skipped a beat. It was the most perfect example of manhood I could imagine. While the majority of his body had a layer of hair, his cock and balls were completely smooth. It hung down his leg around ten inches soft, and his balls sagged back and forth, befitting a penis of that magnitude. I drew my eyes away long enough to see his massive legs. They also were covered in a light but noticeable layer of hair, and like the rest of his body, they too were extremely well defined and I could trace with my eyes every muscle striation in his massive quads and calves. He stood before me, not as a mere man or a giant, but as the epitome of manliness, almost a god. He twisted and turned a bit, stretching his muscles from the work out, and I let out a slight gasp. He looks over to me and says, "You too can have this one day. Just stick with me." He flexes a powerful arm and it looks bigger than it did when we were lifting. I can feel my cock getting hard, but I try to control my urges. Armstrong looks at me with his piercing blue eyes and quietly says, "I know. It’s ok." I take off my gym clothes and I stand before the giant bare. He guides me over to a scale and says hop on. I’m weary of it, I don’t want to be disappointed, but his giant hand comforts me again. I step on it, and it seems that I’ve lost around five pounds since we started this morning. I laugh and tell him and he responds, "It’s only gonna get better" We walk over to the shower, me following him in. He starts lathering up and passes me the soap. I take his kind gift and I try to wash myself, but my eyes are fixated upon the Herculean specimen of man near me. He looks over to me, covered in water and soap and motions for me to come closer. I am shocked but I walk over to him. He tells me in a gentle and caring voice, "Go ahead. Feel them. I can tell you want to." I look up at him, my eyes questioning him. He nods in affirmation. I approach the massive giant, slowly caressing his massive body. I moan in delight over every ridge and depression of his muscles. "This feels amazing, like nothing I’ve ever imagined before" I groan in pleasure. "Work hard and all this can be yours too" he whispers. He hands me his wash cloth, and I wash his entire body from head to toe, him kneeling so I could reach his upper heights. I avoided his massive meat but he noticed and said it was ok. Ten inches of meat soft doesn’t compare to the full glory of his cock hard. It was almost as long as my arm and so thick I needed both hands to wrap it. After washing his body, then mine, we exit the shower and towel ourselves dry. I have a raging boner but it doesn’t compare to Armstrong’s. I look at myself and feel shame again. I have no right to be here with this monstrous muscle man. And the instance that thought comes across my mind, I feel the firm slap of Armstrong’s hand across the side of my face. "I told you I won’t have any gym partner of mine thinking like that. I said you can be here, so accept it. You’re allowed to feel this anytime you want to. You’ll have your own body like this soon enough." His words spoke to my very essence. I began to lose all the feelings of doubt I had over the years. This titanic guy chose me before he even knew me, I had to have some worth. It didn’t matter what happened all those years ago. This was the now. Nothing else was of my concern, just me and Armstrong. If he tolerated my presence, chose it, what right did I have to complain? I look up at the big guy and smile. "You’re right man." "Damn right I am." I put on my clothes as I watch him dress. Everything about him was perfect and almost too good to be true. I’m still sporting a boner and so is he and I wonder what would it be like to make a guy like that cum. Almost in response to my thought, Armstrong looks toward me and says under his breath, "You’re not ready for that yet, still a little doubt." I didn’t understand what he meant, I thought he was just mumbling and I tried to figure out what he was talking about when he speaks up, "Ok Sam, time to go. Meet me here tomorrow at 5 p.m." I nod in acknowledgement and we exit the gym. I fall flat in my bed, dead tired from the day’s events. My head is swimming with all that had happened as I drift off to sleep, and I dream. In my dream, I’m in a empty room, surrounded by white clouds and blue skies. A giant booming voice, familiar yet strange, distance yet surrounding speaks to me. "You’ve suffered many years with your gift. We’ve seen it all and we were pleased with you. You’ve given of yourself selflessly without concern for your own being. You took your trials in stride and now we present you with your reward. Take and learn of him and he will grant you your greatest desires and you most secret wishes" The clouds that I’m standing on change to a vast sea. Crystal water flows as far as the eye can see against a backdrop of a perfectly clear sky. I slowly descend to the water surface, landing yet not breaking the tranquil state. I look around and feel a sense of peace and as I take in it all, a figure steps forth on the water. It’s a massive figure, and as it approaches, I can tell it’s Armstrong. "Continue to share your gifts with the world. Bring joy to everyone’s life you meet and he will be there to refresh you to continue sharing with the world. Remember, he is pleased with you as are we." The figure on the water top takes a familiar appearance and smiles at me. He gives me a thumbs up and the scene begins to fade. I wake up suddenly, sitting straight up in my bed. I look around my room and feel a sense of peace. I slowly drift back off to sleep and I dream. The next few months are amazing. Each day ends with a shake, a measurement and a shower with me feeling him. I’m losing fat and growing muscle steadily, even getting taller as Armstrong helps me lift. I haven’t seen myself in months because Armstrong told me not to look at myself and I trust him. His presence is almost intoxicating. Whenever I’m around him, I feel as if anything’s possible. I feel stronger than ever. My body is becoming massive and I’ve grown to a respectable 6’4’’ in a second growth spurt. I feel more solid and hair is beginning to grow across my body in a pattern like Armstrong. A year goes by, and Armstrong takes me to a full length mirror. He tells me to take off my gym clothes and he does the same. I stand next to him and I’m amazed at the progress I’ve made. If you didn’t know Armstrong and me before, you would have sworn that he and I were brothers. I now stood at a height of 6’5’’ and I looked like a slightly smaller version of Armstrong. My body seemed to be shaped exactly like his, hair in all the same places and the same muscles bulged in the same places. He then told me to take off my boxers. I wondered what he meant by that, but as I did, I noticed that not only had my body grown, so did my penis. It had grown to a respectable 9.5 inches, just slightly smaller than Armstrong like everything else. Standing there naked, I looked exactly like Armstrong except for my face. Even looking closer at my face, I saw changes in my face. It looks slimmer, my jaw line more defined. My cheeks were less puffy and my skin was tighter. Except for a few differences, Armstrong and I were twins. I looked at him and asked "How is this possible?" "You worked hard this past year. What were you expecting" "But this is truly amazing" "Remember those shakes we drink every day? Recall how I said there was something special in them? "Yeah" "It was my sweat you were drinking in small doses. It doesn’t do much in reality, but it does give you an extra oomph when you’re working out. My body seems to sweat a small amount of testosterone when I work out" I look at him and I don’t doubt him for a second. He said it and I believe him. It’s not gonna change anything about our relationship. In reality, tasting his sweat kind of made me aroused. We shower up for the evening and I’m even more into it, and he starts to wash me also. I’m washing him and he’s washing me, both of us in a soapy embrace. My cock is getting harder as we wash up and it begins to throb. I feel Armstrong’s cock is the same way, but he stops me before we get started good. "Not yet," he says to me. I calm myself down as we towel off and he says to me, "Meet me at the mall tomorrow instead of here." The next day, I head to the nearby mall. I’m wearing my blue sweats, the ones I bought since I started growing. Armstrong waves me down and I yell a greeting at him. I’m amazed at how big my voice even sounds now. I can’t believe how much I’ve changed and how I didn’t see it. Armstrong’s giant arm continues to wave as he approaches me and I still am amazed at him. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans that fit him especially well and a sleeveless t shirt that hugs his torso like it was a second skin. He continues to stride forward with a confidence and essence that I’ve come to love in the year we’ve been together. He gets to me and we punch each other and then a half hug, something we’ve been doing for months. "We’re going to get you some new threads" "Cool" He points toward a big and tall store, a place I tried to avoid, now seems like home. I start walking toward it and Armstrong laughs a bit. I turn and look at him quizzically. He tells me to watch how I was walking in the nearby store window. I walked naturally and I notice that I’m walking with the same confidence and demeanor that Armstrong walks with. It felt amazing, seeing myself like that. I projected the same air of confidence that he does. We enter the store together and are greeted by two of the female attendants who seem to want to serve our every need. "I’ve never been treated like this before, it feels amazing." Armstrong retorts, "Haven’t been out much lately, have you" "Well no, just been work, gym and grocery shopping. I don’t go outside that routine much" "Get used to it. I’ll show you how it is outside the gym." Armstrong picks out some shirts and pants for me, similar colors and sizes as he wore. I went to the dressing room and changed. When I stepped outside, Armstrong gave me a approving thumbs up. I look at myself in the nearby mirror and I’m happy with what I see. Everything seems to fit snuggly and my muscles press against the fabric. I flex a bit in the mirror, watching how my muscles respond. I notice the female attendants staring at me intently as I check the fit. I smile at them and they begin to giggle. I lean over to Armstrong and whisper, "You get this all the time man?" "Sure do, get used to it" We finish up our shopping, Armstrong picked out a few sets of clothes including some shorts and some dress clothes. We tried them all on before we left and I liked how they all looked on me. We decide to grab some food at the steakhouse. During dinner, Armstrong tells me he’s very proud of me. "You’ve made some great gains both physically and mentally. I have one last surprise for you today. I’ll tell you after dinner." Dinner comes and goes, the steak was excellent and we head to our cars. He tells me to follow him to his place. His house is large for a bachelor I think to myself as we pull up. We go inside and he begins to talk to me. "Remember when we first met and you first felt my muscles" "Yeah, I do. It inspires me even to this day." "And you remember when I said you weren’t ready yet?" "Kinda." "I knew that you weren’t ready for what was to come yet. I knew your desires to see what could happen if I were to be aroused." "Really?" "Yeah. But now that you’ve grown confident and big, I think you’re ready." My heart begins to race as I think about what he could mean. He strippes to nothing and he nods to me to do the same. I rip my clothes and briefs off, sporting a massive hard on. He leads me upstairs to his bedroom walking the way that I’ve loved since I first met him. He stands at the door as his cock hardens to its full length. "Come Sam, I’ll show you what you’ve been wondering for a year." I walk into his room, extremely anxious and the door slowly closes behind us. This post has been promoted to an article
  15. xythanshadow

    growth Gym Of Dreams: Mike

    Today started out as normal. I get up to go to work, stretch and work on my Jujitsu forms. I’ve fallen back in love with them as of late, seeing as how I now have the conditioning to do them properly. I grab some boxer briefs and head to the shower. I bathe myself, and after I’m finished, I look myself in the new full length mirror I purchased. I see myself now and I smile, not out of arrogance, but out of pride. My reflection seems to speak to me. “Looking good there Sam. The sum of a year’s effort, packed onto your frame. You better thank Armstrong.” I laugh and I start putting on my work clothes; a drab uniform that barely fits anymore. I struggle to clasp the buttons across my chest and to pull up the pants above my quads. Everything feels almost too tight and I fear they will bust off me if I were to move in the wrong direction. “When are they gonna get me some new clothes? They probably enjoy watching me like this.” I laugh aloud and I grab my shake bottle and head out to work. The work day progressed as usual also. I’m radiating happiness everywhere and everything seems to brighten up. People seem to have a bounce in their step and go about their tasks with a renewed vigor. I enjoy it more than I did when I was young, seeing people naturally reenergized and refreshed around me. I approach my boss sometime in the day and bring up the fact that I still need new uniforms. He mentions that they put in the request a while back for a tailor to come by. I place my hands on my waist and breathe in, snapping the top few buttons off. I act as if I did it by accident, but I know the faster they’re gone the sooner new stuff will come in. Plus I had the distinct pleasure of walking around the office with a shirt that revealed my massive chest and watching the ladies drool. So much fun to be had all day. I arrive at the gym exactly as Armstrong gets there. It’s amazing. We’ve become so in sync since I first started coming here, I’m shocked sometimes. We grab our bags and greet each other with our usual punches and half hug. We walk in the gym together and instantly the atmosphere becomes charged. The regulars look our way and wave as we bellow, “Every person in here better be giving it their all!” Our voices are deep and powerful, resonating together to each corner of the gym. It’s another habit we’ve adopted, and it seemed to work wonders. People smile and push harder, lift bigger and feel better. We smile to Joe as he stands behind the bar. “Hello Joe!” Armstrong says with a grin. “Sup Joe!” “Evening you two. How’s my two biggest clients?” “Pumped and hard as usual. Here’s my special stuff again, lock it up for me.” Armstrong pulls out a jar of clear liquid and hands it to Joe while I smile. “One day, you’re gonna have to tell me what it is Armstrong.” “Maybe one day Joe.” I chuckle. “Well if Sam trusts you, who am I to complain” he laughs. We all have a good laugh and we walk off towards the locker room. The area is pumped, the sound of metal on metal fills the gym. We walk through and people smile and push harder. Armstrong has always been a role model, but now I was too. It felt good to be looked up to instead of down on. I stop to push a college kid a little further and give him a spot. He finishes an extra three on his set. I stand him up, he’s about 5’10’’, and I give him a pat on the shoulder and a smile. “Keep working hard man, you’re coming along well!” He gives me a huge grin and he stands up taller, more confident. I grab my bag and resume my walk with Armstrong while he gives the kid a huge thumbs up. “You made that kid feel a lot better, you know” Armstrong says to me as we’re changing. “Yeah,” I respond, “I know. I felt he was getting down about not making gains like some other guys, that’s why I said what I did.” “I saw that too” he responds. “That’s one thing I meant to ask you for a while now. When we first met, how did you know about me so much?” Armstrong closed his eyes and lowered his head. When he raised it back up, he looked at me with his sea-blue eyes and points at them. “It’s because of these. I’ve always been able to see a person’s true self, no matter what they had on the outside. I saw how sad your soul was and wanted to help ‘cause I saw you had a gift like mine, am I right?” I look at him and know I can’t lie. “Yea, I’ve always been sensitive to people’s feelings. I used to think of it as a curse, but hanging out with you made me realize the precious gift I have. Plus, since I can project my feelings, I want to make people happy.” “Well, there ya go; two guys with unique abilities making the world a better place. Maybe we should go grab some tights and give ourselves some catchy names. I’ll be Armstrong the Defender, you can be my sidekick Sam the not-so-good-looking-as-Armstrong protector.” I punch Armstrong in the arm and we laugh heartily. Changed into our gym shorts and sleeveless shirts, we march back into the gym. It’s time to work and we put on our lifting faces. Gone are the smiles and jovial attitude. We begin to project an aura of seriousness as we prepare to combat the weights. We load up the bench with 415 lbs of weight and Armstrong turns to me, “This should be a good warm-up.” I hit the bench and start lifting my fifteen warm up reps. In the middle of the set, I stop halfway up. Armstrong growls, “You can’t be tired now, this is light.” “No,” I respond “something’s wrong. Watch the door.” Armstrong turns toward the door as I continue my reps. As I finish, I hear the alarm ding as the front door opens. I stand up next to my partner and we peer as a small kid, about the age of 15 walks in. ************************************************** ************* “It’s not fair! Dammit it’s just not fair. I’m in my freshman year of high school and I still haven’t grown any!” My father looks down at me and pats me on the head. “It’s ok son, you’ll grow eventually. I mean, it’s in your genes!” I look up at him and smile. He always knows exactly what to say. He’s my father and I love him. I grew up in a marine home. My father is a Lieutenant Colonel, and while he loves it, it requires us to move around a lot. I never got to keep many friends because we were always moving. I loved my father though and respected his dedication. But that’s not the only thing I respected. He was a large man, well toned from years of physical training. He stood at 6’5’’ tall and weighed around 250lbs. He specialized in training of new troops for “special assignments”, even though he never told me exactly what he did. But whatever he did kept him in excellent shape. His whole body pulsed with veins whenever he moved. His arms weren’t the largest I’ve seen in my life, but they were rock hard and solid. He let me hang from them many times before, even to this day. His shoulders were broad and wide, perfect for carrying me around on and his chest was barreled, with massive pecs that I could sleep on for hours. His legs befit him too, thick with muscle and hairy. The rest of him was clean shaven, but his legs were manly. He was my father and I loved him and wanted to be like him so badly. That’s why I’m so upset I haven’t grown. My father has been training me for years in the same way he did his ‘recruits’. While my endurance was extremely high, my strength was mediocre at best. I could do an average amount of push ups and pull ups, but I could run all day. That was the best times I had with my father: long runs through the woods, nothing at all around us, just me and him talking. But I wanted to really make him proud. I wanted to play football like he did and be the greatest defensive lineman in school. My father spent some of his time in the basement. There was a T.V. and couch where we would stay out of my mother’s way, and I would curl up and fall asleep on his massive chest. There was also a foosball table where we would play. But on one wall was his trophy case. The one trophy he took most pride in was from his high school football days. It said on the front “Most Quarterback Sacks Ever: 73. Golden Central High School.” I looked at it and I beamed with pride as did my father. He was a threat to quarterbacks everywhere. He led his team’s defense to a record 23 points allowed in his senior season. My mother enthralled me with tales of how he performed on the field, and it filled my head with wonder and admiration of my father. So when summer had ended and I still stood at a measly 5’ tall, I wanted to scream. My father had landed a 4 year assignment in this new town, and I would be able to spend my entire high school year here. But I dreaded going to a new school and trying out for a football team being this measly height. My dad patted me on the shoulder and said with love in his voice, “It’ll be alright son, you’ve still got years to go.” My mother drops me off in front of my new school, Jade Mountain High. I step out of the car and wave goodbye and get ready to face my first day. It was hell. It seems the mountains that we now lived near grew big people. I was by far the shortest male there. Even a large part of the female population was bigger than me. I was assigned to classes and had to put up with the indignation of being called “Little Mikey” all day. My name is Michael, named after my father and his father and so on down the line, and I always hated being called “Mikey.” My father had stopped calling me Mikey and preferred to call me Mike, while my mother was the only one who I let call me Mikey, due to the sweetness and love in her voice. The day only got worse when I went to try out for football. I was determined to play defensive line. The coaches wanted to put me as running back, saying my “size” and “stature” would fit that position more. I said I want to be a lineman. So, they let me try out. Unfortunately, the linemen there were at least 5’8 and 250lbs. They were nowhere near as big as my father, but I seriously doubted I could move them. I could maneuver around them with my speed, but coach said that I had to power my way through them. That was the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done in my life. This large guy, a junior, stood in front of me and I had to push him out of the way to get to the quarterback, a simple drill. The only problem is that no matter how hard I pushed, the guy didn’t budge. He didn’t even try to resist. He just stood there, watching me try to move him. After about a minute of this travesty, the coach blew his whistle and called me over. He told me that it was obvious that I wanted to play, and that I could play as a runner. If I wanted to play as a lineman, I would have to grow. Then he rubbed my hair almost mockingly and called me, “Little Mikey”. I left the field and put away the practice pads they let me use. Practice wasn’t over and I could hear what sounded like laughter when I left the changing room. The junior was on the sidelines looking at me and laughing. “Damn him,” I thought “If only I would grow like my father, I’d move him.” I walked around to the front of the school, waiting for the time for my father to pick me up. As I’m sitting there, I let my mind drift. This is something I’ve known since I was small. If I lose myself and allow my inner mind to listen, secret voices would speak to me and give me guidance. I needed to grow big and strong. I needed to make my father proud. A few hours later, my father arrives and honks the horn. I awake from my trance and hop in the car. He knew about the tryouts and I tell him the truth. He looks at me gently with care in his eyes and says, “Maybe next year tiger.” I look up to him and say “Dad, I need a favor. There’s a gym in town that I wanna go check out, can you please take me there?” He looks into my eyes, gauging how serious I was and says, “You know I can train you, but if you really want a gym, just tell me where to take you.” I smile a huge grin and direct him downtown, where my ‘friends’ told me to seek help. ************************************************** ********************** Armstrong and I watch this kid come in the front door. He’s looking at the ground as he enters, followed a military man. We can tell by the way he walked that the guy was the kids father and, from the way he moved, spent years in the military. I nudge Armstrong and whisper, “The kid needs help badly.” The father walks up to Joe while the kid looks around a bit. He was around five feet tall and maybe 130lbs. His limbs looked like sticks and he had a demeanor of disappointment all around him. He looks at the weights and the equipment like he was totally lost. Armstrong did his best to catch his eyes. The kid looked our way and locked eyes with the big man. After a few moments, he turned away and walked back toward his father, who was finishing his conversation with Joe. Armstrong whispers to me, “He’s upset ‘cause he wants to be like his father. He feels sadness over thinking that he won’t live up to him, and he’s becoming desperate.” “I guess this is where we step in, right?” “After Joe finishes the tour.” We continue to do our warm up set, stretching out of muscles. We know that we’re not going to get our usual workout today. We’ve found our next project. After warming up really well, we watch the kid and his father being led around the gym by Joe. While the father is inquisitive, the kid seems distracted. He seems to be listening to his father’s questions and Joe’s answers, but he doesn’t seem all there. The tour starts to come to an end and Joe does the follow up interview with the father. He leans down and whispers to his kid. I look at Armstrong and Armstrong looks at Joe. Joe nods and steps away. Armstrong and I stride over to them. We have put on our personable faces and we begin to greet them. “How do you like our gym?” Armstrong says in his deep, gentle voice. “It’s quite nice. It reminds me of the weight rooms we had on our base.” I look down at the kid and I put my hand on his shoulder gently, “And you? How do you feel about it?” I sense anxiety oozing from him and I try to steady him and make him feel calmer. He looks up to me and I see the same look in his eyes that I had when I first met Armstrong, a look of wonder, sadness, hopelessness, and awe. He mutters something under his breath and I nod. I know exactly how he feels. I look to his father and then Armstrong. Armstrong smiles and says for them to follow us. We lead them to the front desk. “Hey Joe! Give me three of the usual,” then turning to the father “and what would you like sir?” “Ummm…”he browses the board, “I’ll take the banana shake” “Coming right up big guy!” “And put it on our tab.” I yell after him. “Thank you a lot gentlemen, but we didn’t put in my son’s order” “Don’t worry,” I say to the kid more than his father, “we’ve already got him taken care of.” Joe returns with three of the usual and a banana shake for us. We of course take ours down in two huge swallows, and then wipe our lips while the father slowly drinks his. The kid is looking at the huge cup the same way I did when I first saw it, and I lean down and whisper, “Peanut butter and Chocolate, with a little something extra.” His eyes sparkle a bit and he starts gulping the concoction. I stand back up and begin the conversation. “So, from the looks of you, you’re not the one looking for a gym, am I right” I state. “No, my son here heard about this place and wanted to check it out” “And he wants to grow bigger, just like his dad, doesn’t he.” Armstrong says. The kid perks up at Armstrong’s acute observation. “Yeah, I think that’s about it. He hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet, but I’m telling him to be patient.” “Hey Joe! C’mere.” I bellow, slightly startling the kid. “What’s your name kid?” I ask. “Michael” he barely whispers. “Joe, this here’s Mikey, no this is Mike. He’s the newest man in me and Armstrong’s crew. Put him on our tab.” I say to him, then turning to Mike, “Mikey’s no name for a man, you agree? We’ll just call you Mike since this is your first day as a new man.” ************************************************** ********************** I walk up to this place that was spoken to me. From the outside, it looks almost like a warehouse. The only way you would know what this place was is by reading the sign over the door that said “Gym of Dreams: Where YOU make your dreams come true.” I walk toward the door as my father parks the car. Before I even open it, I can smell something. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but it reminds me of my father when he came home from a heavy training session, but a lot more powerful. It’s so strong it’s almost intimidating. My father walks up behind me and sniffs. He lets out an ‘ahhhh’ and I presume that the smell makes him feel good. He opens the door for me and lets me go in first. I enter the gym and immediately I’m greeted by a guy behind this bar type counter. He waves at me while my father walks in and I do a quick scan of the area. All I see are huge guys lifting massive weights. If I thought I was small in school, these guys made me seem like a dwarf, no, an insect. I feel myself balling up and I start to look at the floor. My father walks in behind me and nudges me inward. He walks up to the bar and begins to talk with the big guy behind it while I move to the side. From here, I can see the place more clearly. There’s several machines and things that I’ve never seen before, and the only thing I really recognize are the bench press. As I’m looking toward them, I see this pair of brothers. They’re gigantic, bigger than anyone here and even bigger than my father. They’re wearing sleeveless shirts and gym shorts that make them look like they could break my father in half. The bigger of the two catches my eyes, and he’s staring at me it seems. His eyes look slightly blue, but there’s something weird about them. They feel warm and comforting, like I’ve known them for years. I stare at them for a minute until my father calls me over. Joe, as he is introduced to me, leads us on a tour of his gym. He’s talking and my father’s asking questions, but I’m not really paying attention. Being around all these huge guys makes me slightly nervous. I was always comfortable around my father, but these guys seem almost unreal. Time passes and the tour is ending. Joe is asking my dad various questions and my dad leans down and says how I felt. I mumble I don’t know and Joe started to walk away. I look up and see these two massive guys, the same two I saw earlier standing in front of us. When closer, they looked even more intimidating. From a distance, they just seemed massive, but up close, I could see every line and contour on their bodies. Their shirts stuck to their abs and their shorts to their legs. They were huge and hairy and extremely well muscled. Their arms hung off their sides like giant ropes and seemed that they were bigger than my entire body. They stood tall and confident and their arms and forearms rippled with power and might as they shook my father’s hand. The bigger of the two began to make conversation with my father. Then the other one leaned down and put his hand on my shoulder. I was a firm but gentle hand, and I knew if he applied anymore pressure he would’ve made me fall over. But what really got my attention is how I felt then. All of the sudden, I felt good. I wasn’t as scared anymore. These massive mountains of muscle were very personable and I felt better. He asked me a question I couldn’t really hear, and I mumbled in agreement. The bigger of the two tells us to follow him to the bar. Joe’s not standing there and so the big guy bellows an order. His voice is massive, full of bass and powerful. It feels like the gym resonates with it and I it is as if just a yell from him could knock me down. Joe walks up, obviously knowing what the big guy wanted while my father ordered his. I was about to say something but the other guy cuts my father and I off and looks at me and said that he had it handled. Joe goes in the back and in a few moments, comes out with some shakes. My dad picks up his and the big guy hands me a huge cup. It’s at least 64 ounces of liquid, and I look at it. The two big guys down theirs in two massive swallows and I continue to stare at them and mine. The smaller guy leans over to me and says “Peanut butter and Chocolate, with a little something extra.” I look up at him and smile. That’s my favorite flavor. My father has halfway finished his shake when the smaller guy starts talking. “So, from the looks of you, you’re not the one looking for a gym, am I right” he says to my father. “No, my son here heard about this place and wanted to check it out” “And he wants to grow bigger, just like his dad, doesn’t he,” the big guy remarks. I am completely shocked. How could he guess that so quickly? “Yeah, I think that’s about it. He hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet, but I’m telling him to be patient.” “Hey Joe! C’mere,” the smaller one yells. His voice is also a deep bass that shakes the gym and makes me twitch. “What’s your name kid?” he says to me. “Michael” I can barely get out the words. “Joe, this here’s Mikey, no this is Mike. He’s the newest man in me and Armstrong’s crew. Put him on our tab.” he says to Joe, then he looks at me, “Mikey’s no name for a man, you agree? We’ll just call you Mike since this is your first day as a new man.” Not only did they not call me Mikey, they’re treating my like a man, not some little kid. This is gonna be amazing I think to myself. ************************************************** ********************** Armstrong says to Mike’s father, “We’ll take good care of your kid. Hey Joe, toss me those clippers you got back there.” Mike’s father looks at me then Joe, and Joe says for Mike’s father to follow him. Joe quickly returns with the clippers and hands them to Armstrong then heads back into his office. As we walk away from the bar, I see Joe pointing to the pictures on the wall of myself and Armstrong. I know that he’ll understand. We walk toward the locker room, leading Mike along. As we walk, we introduce ourselves to him, and I reminisce. I so remember this same walk and the same talk that Mike’s gonna have. We enter the locker room and Armstrong sits Mike on the bench and he sits on the bench across from him. I stand behind Armstrong as he prepares to open Mike up. Armstrong tells Mike to look up at him. Mike looks up timidly and Armstrong begins to peer deep into his soul, as he did with me. He laid the clippers down and said to Mike “So you’re tired of being small, tired of people treating you like a kid, and tired of big guys imposing their will on you. You want to be as big as or bigger than your father, and follow in his footsteps. You want to do everything he’s done and excel at it, just like he did and you want him to be proud of you and you want to be proud of yourself. Am I right?” And just like that, Armstrong did his thing. Mike was looking into Armstrong’s eyes, as if his words struck him like a bolt of lightning, and I knew that everything he said was right on target. That was the beauty of Armstrong’s gift. It was exceptionally accurate and quick to the core. Mike’s voice began to tremble as he spoke, “Yeah. How can you know all that?” “It’s a gift that I have,” Armstrong said as he closed his sea-blue eyes. “It’s similar to mine, I could feel your despair before you entered the door,” I chimed in. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, as long as you trust us.” “For some reason, I do.” Mike says. “Good man. Now, let’s give you a haircut befitting of a man.” Armstrong laughs. Mike looks at Armstrong and asks, “What’s wrong with my haircut?” as he rubs his hair. “What’s the first thing that people do when they see you for the first time?” I inquire, knowing exactly what they do. Armstrong one-ups me though and does exactly what I was getting at and tussled Mike’s hair. Mike swats at Armstrong’s massive hand and I say, “Exactly.” Armstrong plugs in the clippers and moves Mike over near him. “Just think of this as your progression into being a man,” Armstrong says as he gives Mike a quick buzz cut. Mike looks down at the floor, his long locks of hair lying on the ground. He rubs his head in wonder and we take him over to a mirror. We see his father in him, the same contours and dimples will form on Mike over time. We then take Mike out back to the front bar. His father is standing their waiting for us. I presume Joe went through my whole history with him because he looks at me a bit. I’m guessing he is admiring the work that Armstrong did with me. We stand before Mike’s father with his son. Mike is standing a little taller and with a fresh new haircut. His father walks over to him and places a hand on top of his head. “That looks good on you boy, I mean, son. These guys are going to mold you into a helluva man from what I hear. You gonna be ok son?” “Yeah dad, I think I’m gonna learn a lot from these guys. They seem like good people.” Mike says. “You know I love you son, you don’t have to impress me” “I know Dad, but this is something I have to do.” “My son, growing up right before my eyes. And you look mighty good with your hair like that” “Really? You think?” “I know,” Mike’s father kneels down and picks up his son. He gives him a giant hug and whispers, “I love you son.” “I love you too Dad.” He puts down his son and looks toward us and says, “I know you’ll take good care of my son.” We nod as he looks at his son, “Learn all you can from these guys, they know their stuff” Mike nods at his dad and he puts a hand on his head. “I really can’t believe how much you’re growing. Wait till your mother sees you.” Mike smiles as his father walks out the door. “We’ll have him home before 11.” Armstrong calls. ************************************************** ********************** “These guys are simply amazing” I think to myself as they lead me to the locker room. My father went in the office with Joe; I hope to set up a payment plan for me to lift here. I think I could really call this place home. Although, when I still look around at the other guys, everyone seems so serious. I wonder what they’re thinking about me. They could probably crush me in their arms, but these two seem real nice. They introduce themselves. The big one calls himself “Armstrong” and the slightly smaller one says his name is “Sam.” We enter the locker room and Armstrong sits me down. He sits down across from me and Sam stands behind him. I’m not sure what’s about to happen and I tense up and look at the floor. Armstrong says in a quiet yet firm voice for me to look at him. I look up and I meet his eyes. They’re like a calm sea. I feel myself getting light headed as I gaze into his deep blue eyes. They’re unblinking. His stare is almost hypnotic. I can’t draw myself away from them. It’s almost as if he’s looking into my soul. What is it about his eyes! Armstrong blinks and sits up a little. He says quietly, “So you’re tired of being small, tired of people treating you like a kid, and tired of big guys imposing their will on you. You want to be as big as or bigger than your father, and follow in his footsteps. You want to do everything he’s done and excel at it, just like he did and you want him to be proud of you and you want to be proud of yourself. Am I right?” I can’t move. This feeling. What is it? How does he know so much about me? I’ve never told anyone that in my life. How could he possibly know? Does it show that much? Does my father know? Oh god, what if my father knows? How can I face him? Oh god oh god oh god. “How can you know all that?” I whisper. “It’s a gift that I have,” Armstrong said as he looked away from me. “It’s similar to mine, I could feel your despair before you entered the door. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, as long as you trust us.” Sam said. I look at them for a moment. They both seem huge before me, but they feel gentle. I feel as if they would never do me harm. They probably would always be there for me and protect me if I needed it. I say to them, “Yes, I do trust you. I don’t know why, but I trust you.” “Ok then! Let’s get that haircut more manly” Armstrong laughs. I look up at him and ask, “What’s wrong with my haircut?” I look at his head and Sam’s. Both of their haircuts are really short, drawing attention to their massive jaws. They both wore the same kind of facial hair; clean cut except for a slight goatee. My hair was long and neat and I lacked all facial hair. I run my hand through my hair a little. Sam says to me, “What’s the first thing people do when they see you?” I’m wondering what he means by that. Does he mean they say hi or hey kid or something? Then Armstrong leans over and uses his massive hand to tussle my hair a bunch. “God, I hate that!” I think as I swat at his massive paw. “Exactly,” Sam remarks. I see what he means. People do that and they think of me as a small kid. Maybe if I looked more like them, I’d get a bit more respect. My dad has the same haircut and he gets tons of respect. Maybe these two are on to something. I sit on the bench where Armstrong was as he plugs in the clippers. I close my eyes and feel my hair fall off my head. “Just think of this as your progression into manhood,” I hear Armstrong say. In a few moments, the clippers turn off. I open my eyes and see hair all over the place. I reach up and rub my head. The hair is almost all gone and my head feels kinda cool. I’m led to a mirror and I look a bit like my dad. My face is smaller and younger and my body isn’t as large as his, but I do look a lot like him. The guys behind me smile and I smile back. We walk back toward the front of the gym. I can feel myself walking straighter, almost marching like my dad would. I see him standing next to Joe, and he’s smiling at me. I love to see him happy. I guess it’s from how I look now. He looks at Sam and nods, I’m assuming to say ‘Good Job’. My dad walks over to me and put a hand gently on top of my head. I can tell from how he’s looking at me he approves. I feel so happy. “That looks good on you boy, I mean, son. These guys are going to mold you into a helluva man from what I hear. You gonna be ok son?” “Yeah dad, I think I’m gonna learn a lot from these guys. They seem like good people.” I respond. “You know I love you son, you don’t have to impress me” I love my dad for saying that. I know it’s true, but I want to impress him. “I know Dad, but this is something I have to do.” “My son; growing up right before my eyes. And you look mighty good with your hair like that” “Really? You think?” I look into his eyes and blush. “I know,” He kneels down and picks me up. He gives me a giant hug and whispers, “I love you son.” “I love you too Dad.” I want to stay in his arms forever. His hug is powerful, yet loving. Gentle, yet caring. It feels so warm and safe in his arms. But I know I can’t stay here forever. Dad puts me down and looks up toward Armstrong and Sam. He says, “I know you’ll take good care of my son.” They nod at him. He looks back at me and whispers, “Learn all you can from these guys, they know their stuff” I nod yes at him and he puts a hand on my head. “I really can’t believe how much you’re growing. Wait till your mother sees you.” I beam with happiness as he walks out the door. ************************************************** ********************** We take Mike back to the locker room. I know what is up next. He has to get over a few of his hang ups before he can grow, just like I had to. We enter the locker room and Armstrong virtually tosses Mike into the corner and stands over him, being as imposing as possible. He roars at him, “What do you see little boy?” Mike looks up startled and mutters a bit. “I SAID WHAT DO YOU SEE!” I watch as Mike’s tiny frame shakes and he looks at me. I lean against the lockers and look back at Mike, trying to seem cold and uncaring. “Better answer him truthfully” I say calmly. “I---I---I---I see a giant” he stammers. “WHAT ELSE!” Armstrong bellows. “I---.I---I---I--- Armstrong takes of his clothing and begins to really impose his size by flexing naked over Mike. “WHAT DO YOU SEE?” Armstrong lets out a primal roar filled with bass as he poses down on Mike, flexing every muscle tighter. The lockers around us begin to shake from the power of Armstrong’s voice and Mike balls up slightly, obviously scared of how Armstrong is acting now. I kinda feel bad about what Armstrong is doing, but it has to be done. He has a bit of a fear of larger people even though he shows a brave face. Armstrong starts to break it down so Mike can see it for himself. “AM I BIGGER THAN YOU??” “Y…y….yes” “AM I STRONGER THAN YOU?” “Y----ye----yes” “AM I BETTER THAN YOU?” “Y---yes” Armstrong stops flexing and closes in on Mike, “No, I’m not.” Armstrong’s voice returns to his normal gentle bass. “Just because I’m bigger and stronger than you doesn’t make me better than you. I’m just a man, just like you. No better, no worse.” I approach Mike and put my hand on his other shoulder. Mike is still trembling. I decided to join Armstrong in the naked display to show him we’re still human underneath it all. I take off my clothes and I return my hand to his shoulder. “We have a rule around here. If you’re our gym partner, you have to see yourself as one of us. No better, no worse. You’re one of the gang now.” Mike is still trembling. I feel the shock from the whole ordeal washing over him. Armstrong picks up Mike and stands him on the bench so he’s looking at us near eye level. He leans down a bit to look Mike into the eye. “I know you want to be like your father. You can and much more. All the power and muscle he has, you can have. All the power and muscle we have, you can have. All you have to do is to desire it with your heart and work hard for it. We know you're not afraid of hard work or you would’ve never been led here.” I reach down to my shorts on the floor and pull out my wallet and grab Armstrong’s wallet also. I reach in both of them and pull out our pictures of old. I hand them to Mike. “That was me once, and this was Armstrong.” His eyes bulge out as much as mine did when I first saw how Armstrong looked. “Yeah, that used to be us. See how it’s not impossible to do anything you desire.” He nods in affirmation and says that he understands. Armstrong and I put our clothing back on and we get ready to test his strength. Out in the gym, we don’t push him too hard. We know that he has never lifted a barbell in his life, so we take it slow. We explain how to grip the bar and the proper way to breathe and other gym safety. He’s a good kid and he learns quick. Soon, it’s getting close to time for us to shut down the gym. We go to take our usual post-work-out shower. As usual, we’re completely comfortable with each other, but Mike is hesitant to jump in the shower. I see the look on his face and ask him a question. “What do you feel about two guys showering together.” “It feels a little gay to me,” he says. Both Armstrong and I laugh. “Why? Why are you laughing?” Armstrong speaks up, “Do you love muscle? How it looks and feels?” “Well---umm---yeah.” “And do you want to have sex with me?” “No.” “Well then? What’s the problem?” Armstrong, gotta love how simply he puts some things. Armstrong continues, “In here, we all have a desire for muscle. We enjoy how it feels on ourselves and on others. But it’s not sexual. There’s no desire for me to put this” he says as he adjusts his large cock, “into any hole of my gym mates. That’s what separates us from normal people. We’re completely comfortable in our natural states. We can admire hard work and dedication without it becoming a thing about sex. Do you understand?” Mike nods at us. “Well, are you going to shower or not?” I ask. He takes off his clothes and jumps in. We continue to shower up and I see the same look in his eye when I first met Armstrong. “Yes, you can feel our muscles if you want.” “Really? I want to hang from your arms like I do with my dad.” “Sure man, go ahead” I flex my arm for him and let him hang. He laughs a bit and then drops to the ground. “That was fun. You are way bigger than my dad” “But not better.” I smile at him. We finish up and start to dry off when I notice Mike doesn’t have any other clothes. I take out one of my extra sleeveless shirts and toss it to him to wear. I say that he can have it, but he protests that it’s too big. I tell him it’ll be alright. “You’ll grow into it,” and I smile. They pile into Armstrong’s car they pull off. I smile inside as I think this is a day he’ll never forget. ************************************************** ********************** I’m still bouncing as we head back to the locker room. My dad is so proud of me. I’m beaming with pride and I don’t care who knows it. But once we get into the locker room, Armstrong picks me up and almost throws me into the lockers. “What do you see little boy?” Armstrong roars at me. His voice is deafening and I cringe away from him. What does he want, why is he doing this? I’ve never heard anything like this before. It scares me almost to death. I try to sputter out anything, but I’m greeted with an even bigger roar. “I SAID WHAT DO YOU SEE!” I shrink back further into the lockers. Why is he so mean all of the sudden? Why is Sam just standing there? Why doesn’t he stop him? There’s nothing I can do against this huge guy. Is he just going to sit there and laugh at me while this monster tears me apart? I whimper at Sam and he looks at me with a stare that chills me and says, “Better answer him truthfully” “I---I---I---I see a giant.” I wanted to say monster, but I could barely get those words out. “WHAT ELSE!” Armstrong roars at me. “I---.I---I---I--- Armstrong takes off his clothing. He looked even more huge naked. His muscles looked like they were inflated. Blood coursed through all his veins and every part of him twitched with power and rage. It was even scarier than the yelling. “WHAT DO YOU SEE?” Armstrong roars at me, his voice filled with bass and fury. He looks like he’s going to engulf me. He’s so huge he could engulf me in his chest alone. I can’t do anything but stare at him. The lockers around me begin to shake. Whether it’s from me shaking or from the volume of Armstrong’s shouting, I don’t know, but I curl up into a ball slightly. He’s terrifying. I’ve never seen someone so huge and so angry before. He’s going to crush me like a little ant and there’s nothing I can do about it. Sam could help though, but he isn’t. I bet he’s enjoying watching me tremble like this. Big guys are always imposing themselves around, why did I think these two would be different? Where’s my father? Why did I let him go! “AM I BIGGER THAN YOU??” I close my eyes and hide my face as I stammer “Y…y….yes” “AM I STRONGER THAN YOU?” “Y----ye----yes” I tremble a bit more because I feel him getting closer. “AM I BETTER THAN YOU?” “Y---yes” I scream inside “Please don’t hurt me!” “No, I’m not.” Armstrong’s voice was back to his normal gentle bass. I open my eyes and see his massive hand on my shoulder and him close to me. He looks nothing like he did a moment ago. I see the gentleness and kindness back in him and my mind is racing. “Just because I’m bigger and stronger than you doesn’t make me better than you. I’m just a man, just like you. No better, no worse.” Sam approaches me and put his hand on my other shoulder. He then looks at me and takes off his clothes and returns his hand to my shoulder. “We have a rule around here. If you’re our gym partner, you have to see yourself as one of us. No better, no worse. You’re one of the gang now.” I still feel myself trembling even though they are calm. Armstrong picks me up and sets me down on the bench. I stand eye level with their massive chests. He leans down a bit and he looks me into eyes. “I know you want to be like your father. You can and much more. All the power and muscle he has, you can have. All the power and muscle we have, you can have. All you have to do is to desire it with your heart and work hard for it. We know you're not afraid of hard work or you would’ve never been led here.” Sam reaches down to his gym shorts lying on the floor and pull out something, then grabs something from Armstrong’s shorts also. He pulls out a pair of photos and hands them to me. “That was me once, and this was Armstrong.” I look at them in total shock. That just can’t be them. These two mountains of muscle that stand before me could’ve have never been what I’m looking at. It’s just impossible. “Yeah, that used to be me. See how it’s not impossible to do anything you desire.” I nod at them. If that was them, then anything is possible. I finally stop shaking in the presence of these naked muscle gods. I understand what Armstrong said. They may be bigger and stronger, but they’re not better. I’m their equal. That makes me feel really good. They begin to put back on their gym attire and I am once again glad to have them as my friends. They’re huge and awesome, I’m humbled by the mass of muscle they are. I watch them as they put on their clothing. Their chests seem to barely get inside the shirts they were wearing. The fabric, loose and flowing on the floor, became a second skin when they put it on. I can see all the definition that I could when they had the shirts off. The shorts are almost the same way. The only difference is their huge penises seem to be less cramped than I would expect. The rest of the shorts hug their legs well. I say to myself that I’m gonna look like that one day. We head back out into the gym area. It seems to be empty except for a couple of people and Joe. They lead me over to the bench press. I’ve never actually lifted weights before, but they’re kind and take everything slow with me. I feel really weak, but they’re encouraging me on and it feels great. Time flies and everyone is leaving. Armstrong and Sam say it’s time for us to get ready to go. I follow them back to the shower. I forgot my bag in my dad’s car. I guess I’ll just not shower until I get home. Sam and Armstrong strip naked again and head to the shower. They turn it on and they start washing each other. “They look good with all that muscle, but that is weird.” I think to myself Sam looks over to me, standing outside the shower area. “What do you feel about two guys showering together?” he asks “It feels a little gay to me,” Both he and Armstrong laugh. “Did I say something funny? Why are you laughing?” Armstrong speaks up, “Do you love muscle? How it looks and feels?” I look at him and know I have to be honest. “Well---umm---yeah.” “And do you want to have sex with me?” “No.” “Well then? What’s the problem?” I am shocked by how bluntly and simply Armstrong put it. Armstrong continues, “In here, we all have a desire for muscle. We enjoy how it feels on ourselves and on others. But it’s not sexual. There’s no desire for me to put this into any hole of my gym mates. That’s what separates us from normal people. We’re completely comfortable in our natural states. We can admire hard work and dedication without it becoming a thing about sex. Do you understand?” It makes perfect sense now. I nod my head yes. “Well, are you going to shower or not?” Sam asks. I strip down slowly, still kinda shy about the huge muscle in there, but I relax and join them in the shower. They continue to shower up. I’m washing myself off with the cloth Sam hands me, but I can’t help but be awed by their size. Everything looks so perfect right now, the way the water flows off their muscles, the way the suds slide down their chiseled abs. I will have all that one day. “Yes, you can feel our muscles if you want.” I’m shocked by the comment. “Really? I want to see if I can hang from your arms like I do with my dad.” “Sure man, go ahead” Sam flexes his arm for me. I jump up and grab them. They feel even harder than my dad’s arm and I don’t even notice any strain on his huge bicep. I laugh a bit and then drop to the ground. “That was fun. You are way bigger than my dad.” “But not better,” Sam says with a smile. We finish up and start to dry off. I remember I don’t have any other clothes to wear. “Damn, I can’t just walk out of here naked, there’s laws against that kinda stuff” I say to myself. Sam tosses me a sleeveless shirt and says it’s mine. “This is way too big, it’ll never fit me. “ “Don’t worry. You’ll grow into it,” he smiles. We leave the gym, and I get into Armstrong’s car. Sam waves at me and yells, “See you tomorrow.” I know for a fact that I will be back. ************************************************** ********************** As I sit at work today, I’m wondering about Mike. He’s a good kid, just needs a little more confidence. I pick up the phone and call Armstrong. I have an idea how we can help our new buddy out. Armstrong answers his phone and I give him the details of my plan. He agrees and says he’ll be a little late to grab the stuff. I spend the rest of my day warm on the inside because I know this is going to be good. I arrive to the gym at the normal time and I sit on my car. It’s nice to just sit sometimes and relax, baking myself slightly in the sun. I watch as Mike’s father drives up. I flag him down before he drops Mike off and tell him to come here. I ask Mike to stay in the car while I talk to his father. We step away from the car so I can tell him of my newest plot. He laughs a bit and agrees to my plan. He goes back to the car and tells Mike it’s ok to go. He comes out and sits with me on my car. I pick him up and sit him down next to me and tell him to relax Armstrong had not arrived when Mike begins to inquire about the current situation. “So, what are we doing out here?” he begins. “Just waiting for the big guy. He needed to pick up some items.” I say as I stretch out a bit. “Cool. I’m really anxious about it all.” “That’s good man. You’re gonna do great” “I had a dream last night. All of what you guys did yesterday really made me think.” “Want to tell me about your dream?” Mike looks up at the clear sky and begins. “I dreamt that I was in my high school. But I was tiny compared to everyone. I was shorter than everyone and even the lockers. I was trying to go about my day and do stuff, but the books were so heavy and people kept knocking me down. I was about to get stepped on when everything started shaking. People scattered everywhere and I rolled to avoid being trampled.” “Then the roof of the school started to peel off like a sardine can. I saw you and Armstrong towering over the school. You were like two naked gods. I remember seeing your arms bulge and your chest heave as you ripped the roof off the school. You two looked down at me and Armstrong put his hand on the ground next to me. I jumped into his palm and he lifted me out of the school. He brought me close to his chest and I began to feel the power of it all. I heard his heart beat like a bass drum and I could feel the muscles. Then you held out your hand. I jumped in it and you did the same. Your heart beat was just like Armstrong’s and your muscles felt the same way. Then you pointed at me. I looked at you in question and you pointed at me again, then your chest, then your ear. I understood what you were saying, so I listened to my own heart, and it beat the same way.” “Then Armstrong flexed his huge and powerful arm. You took me over to it and I felt every bulge and dent in his massive bicep. It felt wonderful, powerful and titanic. Armstrong then pointed at him, then his giant arm then me. I felt my arm and, although it wasn’t as big, it felt the same. I nodded at both of you, and then you set me on the ground. Suddenly, I felt my body growing. My muscles were expanding and my height was growing and I grew up as big as you two. I flexed my new muscles and I looked around and laughed. Then…..” I noticed he began to trail off, but I knew the dream didn’t end there. I felt as if he was holding back something. “Go on, you can tell me.” I whisper. He looks at me and sighs a bit. “I’m not sure how you’ll take it though” he mutters. “You’ll have to believe that anything you say I won’t be shocked or think of you any less.” I reaffirm him. He lets out a deep breath and continues, “Then I noticed your two huge cocks. They were hard as stone just like the rest of your bodies and thick. I felt as if I needed to touch them and you guys nodded. I grabbed both of your meats and I felt them. They felt good just like the rest of your muscles. They felt vascular and strong and thick. I wanted to rub them more and more, then I noticed that I was getting hard. I never saw myself get so hard and huge before. It was as huge as you guys’ and just as thick and vascular. Armstrong reached his massive hand down and grabbed it, and you followed suit. Your hands were rough but gentle and it felt so good.” “We continue stroking each other as I licked your muscles and you felt on mine. As I approached climax, I felt my hands getting wet. I looked down to see you two were the same. Armstrong turns me around and faces me toward the school. We explode together and we hit the school with our jets of hot liquid. My aim is off and I tear down some of the wall with your streams, but you two aim me right into the hole you made in the roof and scooped me out of. I aim you two in the same direction. We were filling the school with our juices; it flowed through each floor all the way down into the basement. Our streams finally slow down and I see a tiny person swimming in it all. It was that junior that was laughing at me trying to swim in our man juices. I roared with laughter and bellowed at him, “Who’s the small man now!” He looks away from me and adds, “I had to change my sheets this morning.” He seemed slightly sad that he had the dream. I put my hand on his shoulder. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. If you knew the things that Armstrong and I’ve done since we’ve met, well, let’s just say that what we’ve done in this last year would make your dream seem tame.” Mike looks back at me and asks, “But what does it all mean?” I say to him, “It means you love muscle. Our cocks are just another type of muscle. Remember how you said it was hard and veiny? You just like to see ripped muscle everywhere.” He smiles at me and I know I’ve made him feel better. I think to myself he might be bi or gay, but I don’t want to confuse the issue right now. He’ll need to figure that out for himself when he’s ready. Armstrong pulls up and hops out his truck. I notice there’s a bunch of stuff in the back covered with a tarp. I smile and greet him normally with our punches and half hug. Armstrong then turns to Mike and goes to give him some gentle punches but Mike backs away. Armstrong says, “Yeah, you don’t know yet. See what me and Sam do? You need to do that to. That’s how we say ‘hi’ to each other wherever we meet.” Mike nods and he greets Armstrong. Armstrong gives him a few taps around the chest then picks him up and puts him on his shoulder. Mike doesn’t know what’s going on, but I grab his bag and mine and we hit the gym. As usual, we’re greeted at the door by Joe. We roar again, “Every person in here better be giving it their all!” I then look up to Mike and say, “We do that every day too. Psyches people up for their workout.” Armstrong leads into the weight area and I follow after waving to Joe. He stands in the middle of the floor and clears his throat loudly. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at the giant. “This here’s Big Mike,” he bellows as he points to Mike on his shoulder, “he’s with us. Treat him like the big man he is.” Mike turns a slight shade of red as our gym mates stand up and start calling him “Big Mike”. I can tell what Mike’s thinking right now and I laugh inside, but we’ve got to build his confidence up a bit too. We change in the locker and return. Today’s leg day, so we warm up real quick. I do my warm up set while Armstrong explains the physics and such behind the various exercises before he follows suit. Mike’s taking it all in well and we give him some warm up sets to do. As we’re lifting, one of the other guys yells, “Hey Big Mike, can you toss me that 45 near you.” Mike beams with pride and lugs the weight over to him. “Help me put this on the bar,” he says and Mike does a good job helping out. Armstrong and I smile as we see him stand tall and proud, getting used to being called Big Mike instead of Little Mikey. We finish our leg workout at around 9 p.m. We’re condensing our workouts so we can get Mike home in time. We shower up and change, Mike getting more and more comfortable around us. Joe has our usually ready for us and we head out. I say to Mike, “Drink half of that shake now, half after you eat tonight.” He nods and hops into Armstrong’s truck. “He’s doing real well. He will go far,” I think to myself as I watch them drive off. ************************************************** ********************** I’m still enjoying my shake as we pull up into my yard. Armstrong punches me on the shoulder and says, “See you tomorrow Big Mike!” I love that name: Big Mike. It sounds so good. I punch him back and say, “Sure thing big guy!” I hop out of his giant truck and head into my house. As I come in, I’m trying to decide what to have for dinner. “My parents probably have left some leftovers. Maybe I should’ve asked them what I should be eating. Damn, why didn’t I think of this sooner? I probably can’t eat just anything. Crap, what if I screw up something.” I walk into my house and smell the aroma of freshly grilled steak. “Damn it smells good in here,” I think “Can I have steak? Damn. If it tastes good, it’s probably not good for me. Maybe I’ll find some celery or something.” My dad is at the kitchen table when I turn the corner, sitting with an empty plate in front of him and a full one next to him. “Evening son, how was the gym?” he asks. “Real good dad, I’ll tell you about it soon as I find something to eat.” I say as I head toward the fridge. “Why are you looking, your food is right here,” he comments. “I don’t know what I can and can’t eat. I didn’t ask the guys, so I’m going to have some veggies or something” My dad laughs a bit and stands up. “Don’t worry. Sam told me all about what a big man like you needs to get big. I went out after I dropped you off and went to a wholesale store Sam told me about. I picked up a bunch of stuff he suggested: Steak, brown rice, veggies, a steam cooker, a rice cooker, some boneless skinless chicken, some vitamins and a ton of other stuff.” He motions his hand around and I see tons of supplies scattered about. There is stuff all over the place. That wholesale store must specialize in selling in bulk. “So, don’t worry about what to eat. Sam told me exactly how you should be eating and your mom is helping out by cooking for you and making your lunches each day.” I stand in awe of it all. These guys are truly amazing. I run up to my father and hug him. “Thanks dad!” “We know you’re serious son, so we’re here to help,” he whispers to me. My mom walks into the kitchen and I hug her too. “I love both of you so much!” “Go wash up for dinner” my mom orders, and I put my shake down and run up the stairs to clean up for dinner. The steak was excellent and I’ve never had steamed veggies and rice before. I scarf them down like a ravenous wolf. My dad starts the conversation off, “Slow down boy, I’ve never seen you so hungry!” “Yeah dad, I don’t know what it is, but I’m almost starving” “What kinda stuff is going on at the gym?” “Man dad, it’s awesome. Sam and I waited outside the gym for Armstrong and we talked and talked while looking at the sky. Then Armstrong got there and they punched each other and hugged then Armstrong did the same for me and then Armstrong carried me on his shoulder like you did, and we went in the gym. They roared really loud about everyone working their best and then Armstrong introduced me as Big Mike. Then everyone started calling me Big Mike. It was so cool!” “Sounds like these two are really nice guys,” my mother comments. “Yeah mom, they’re so cool and big and strong and impressive and nice. They’re easy going but they work hard and they make me work hard too and I feel good when I’m around them and I wanna work hard and be big like them and dad. And I’m gonna do it too! I’m gonna be big and strong and tough just like dad and them and then I’m gonna play defensive lineman and break your record dad and put my new trophy right next to yours in the case downstairs.” “I know you will son,” my dad says. I continue to devour my food and my dad says before I finish, “When you’re done, I have something to show you in the basement.” I finish up and polish off my shake. We head down and he turns on the light. I look ahead to the trophy cabinet and I can’t believe my eyes. Where the cabinet was full with pictures and trophies, it now stands half full. My dad tells me to look closer. I walk up to it and I see on the top shelf screwed in the center is a nameplate that says “Mike Evans”. My dad walks up to me and says “I know you’re going to do great things. This is for when you do.” I feel tears welling up in my eyes and I run and hug my dad again. “Thanks dad, you’re so awesome.” “Anything for you son. Now let’s watch some T.V.” I sit down with my father, lay my head in his chest and fall asleep watching SportsCenter. ************************************************** ********************** The weekend’s finally here and Armstrong and I have some big plans for Mike. The work day flies by. They finally got me some new clothes, but I think the tailor is in with my co-workers because it’s only slightly looser than my old clothes. Then again, I could just be growing since they measured me 3 months ago. Who knows? I pull up in my jeep as Armstrong pulls up in his car. As we’re greeting each other, Mike pulls up with his father. He hops out with his bag and starts walking toward us. His father parks the car and Mike looks back. “Why are you parking dad?” Mike says. His dad grabs a bag out of his trunk and I direct him to toss it into my jeep. Armstrong says to Mike, “Don’t worry, it’s a surprise.” We go through the day as normal, and I see an anxious look on Mike’s face. I can tell he’s thinking about the surprise. Boy is he gonna be shocked when this weekend is over. “Mike is lifting good and hard. He’s got moxy.” I think as the day progresses. We finish up another pumped day and Big Mike’s getting compliments from all the guys at the gym for how hard he’s working. He smiles and holds himself with pride. “Yup, he’s doing real well. This weekend should really test him though.” I say to myself. After we wash up and change, we grab our shakes and head out. We jump into our vehicles and drive over to Armstrong’s place. I see Mike’s head bobbing up and down with questions as we pull into Armstrong’s driveway. Mike hops out and asks, “What are we doing? My dad is expecting us at 9.” I grab our bags and walk up to him. I put my hand on his shoulder and I say, “Don’t worry, your parents already know. You’re going to be spending each weekend here. We need you handy for what’s in store for you” Mike looked up at me in wonder. Armstrong grunts from across the car, “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt…much.” Armstrong and I bust into laughter and we lead Mike into the house. Armstrong gives him the tour. Living room, dining room, small gym area, then upstairs to the bedrooms. Armstrong shows him the guest suite where he will be spending his weekends. Then it’s back downstairs to eat. It’s a special mix that Armstrong has prepared. Stir fry veggies and boneless skinless chicken and wild rice. Then Armstrong sends him off to bed, he’s going to need his energy in the morning. The next morning Armstrong and I stand over Mike’s bed at 6 am. I can’t help but giggle as Armstrong holds the bullhorn over Mike. Armstrong bellows into the bullhorn, “GET OUT OF BED YOU LAZY ASS!!!!” and I swear Mike jumps 10 feet into the air. He’s standing on the bed in his boxers and Armstrong growls “GET YOUR ASS IN THE SHOWER AND BE AT THE TABLE IN 15 MINUTES!” “Well, that woke him up,” I laugh at Armstrong as we walk down the stairs. “Yeah, I bet he thought this was going to be a relaxing weekend,” Armstrong chuckles. “Boy is he in for a shock!” We head down to the breakfast table and start laying the food out. Fruits, meats, oatmeal with whey protein mixed in, a few shakes and some multivitamins. We also mix up the midmorning shakes and put them into some bottles and we pack a cooler with it. We also fill up a cooler with water as Mike is walking down. He’s still slightly drowsy, but the aroma of fresh food perks him up. He comes into the dining room and we tell him to sit down and eat up because he’s gonna need his energy. He’s slightly confused and doesn’t realize what’s going on yet, but he eats a good amount. It’s around 7 am when we finish breakfast and washing the dishes. We hand Mike the cooler and we tell him to put it on the lawn outside. Armstrong heads to the garage while I grab the water. I head outside and place the water on a chair and go to grab some cups for today. As I’m coming with the cups, Armstrong is hauling a load of items including some practice clothes for Mike. He orders Mike to take off what he has and put them on. Mike takes of his good clothes and puts on this jersey that looks 4 sizes to big and some gym shorts that he has to tie very tight to fit in. “We’re gonna work every weekend until those are too tight for you.” Armstrong laughs. I walk up to Mike and tell him the plan. “Every weekend, we’re coming here, and for the two days, you’re gonna be in your own personal football camp.” “My own camp?” he asks with utter amazement and glee. “Don’t think it’s gonna be a beauty spa. We’re gonna work you harder than you ever thought possible,” Armstrong remarks as he marks a few lines in his yard. “Stand here,” he orders as he grabs a giant red blocking pad. Mike stands on the line and I stand next to him. “I want you to crouch down like this,” I tell Mike as I hit a three-point stance. “Bend your knees like this and straighten your back like so.” He attempted and I helped adjust him a little more. “Now hit me!” Armstrong ordered. Mike slams into Armstrong. “Again!” Mike tries again. “Again!” “HARDER!” “AGAIN!” I’m looking on from the side and it doesn’t seem that Mike is trying his best. From the way Armstrong is bellowing, I don’t think he thinks Mike is trying his best either. Mike stands up and starts to pant. Armstrong growls at him, “You’re not even trying. Hit me harder damn it!” Mike goes to hit him a few more times, each time making less and less of an impact. “STOP!” Armstrong shouts. Mike stands up and starts breathing heavily. “What are you, afraid of getting hurt?” Armstrong growls. “I’m trying! Really!” pants Mike. I watch as Armstrong’s face tenses up. “Uh oh” I think to myself. “RRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! !!!!!!!!!!!” Armstrong starts charging Mike like a raging bull as Mike stares into the eyes of this on-coming train. Armstrong uses the blocking pad to plow over Mike, giving him a really firm but not too painful hit. Mike lands on the ground with a thud. I begin to smile as I walk over. “Did that hurt?” I ask. “Yeah it hurt” Mike responds. “Are you injured?” Armstrong responds knowingly. “Well, no” Mike whimpers. “I know. You’re not gonna get injured either unless you do something very wrong. But you’re not gonna be good if you don’t hit me with everything you have. Just like you hurt right now from my hit, that’s about all that’s gonna happen. You get hurt but pain fades. You have to push beyond that mental limit that says hold back. Stop holding back. Give it everything you’ve got. Only then will you be great. Unleash that rage and use it to hit me!” Mike gets up and dusts himself off. Armstrong walks back over and sets himself up again. Mike steps up to the line and gets into his three-point stance. “HIT ME!” Armstrong bellows and Mike hits as hard as he can. I smile because I see the impact and while Armstrong doesn’t move much, I can see the way the bag moved. Armstrong smiles and says “Good. Now do that again.” An hour passes and Mike is getting tired from the hitting drill. It’s time for me to step in. “Break!” I yell and Mike and Armstrong walk over. I hand them both some water and tell Mike the next phase. “Now that you know how to hit hard, I’m gonna teach you where to hit.” Mike nods in agreement. I tell Armstrong to break us up at 10 for a snack and I guide Mike over to my area I set up. Here there are pads lined up against the wall with different areas highlighted and colored. I go through with him showing him how the safety pads fit on people and how to use that to your advantage. “If you hit a person here,” I say as I point to the bag “You can get slightly under their pads and use the leverage to move them easier. Now, hit here, and here, then here.” He follows my instructions, and I show him how to lift upward after the initial impact. He gets better and better at it as the training goes on when Armstrong comes over. “Working hard Big Mike?” Armstrong says as he pats Mike on the back. “Y…yeah” Mike pants as he takes a quick breather. “Well, it’s 10, time for your midmorning meal. C’mon, let’s head to the house.” We sprint towards the house and go inside for a quick break. Mike is drenched in sweat and he devours the shake. After he gets to rest for 30 minutes, it’s back outside for more training. Armstrong is working on breaking down his fear and I’m teaching him control. Later I plan on teaching him some of my Taijutsu, but for now, teaching him the basics of letting himself get pass the fear is our primary goal. It’s around 8 pm before we finish up the day. Mike is on the ground almost passed out; the workout gear Armstrong gave him completely drenched in sweat. Armstrong tells Mike to get out of all his clothes and hand them to him so he can wash them for tomorrow. Mike barely lifts up his head and says weakly, “Tomorrow?” “Yeah,” I remark “It’s gonna be even tougher tomorrow, and the next weekend is gonna be tougher than that and so on.” He sighs and his head falls back and Armstrong and I chuckle. “C’mon, time for dinner.” He has trouble getting off the cool grass, and I lean over to help him. He strips down to nothing and hands his clothes to Armstrong who leads the way into the house. Armstrong and I head to his washer while Mike heads upstairs. We take off all our clothes and toss them in the washer then head back to the dining room. Mike yells from the top of the stairs that he’ll be down in a minute. We work our way to the dining table and kitchen to bring out the food. “You guys are naked again” Mike says from the hall. “Yup,” Armstrong says, “does it bother you?” “Not really, I guess. Just never been around people as carefree as you two.” “Yup,” I say. “Me and Armstrong don’t care about little stuff like ‘clothing’. We’ve ran around the house naked just because we felt like it. Boy did we get some stares that day!” “Yeah man, I thought Ms. Barley was going to jump us and mount us the way she was looking. Mike looks at us while we burst into laughter. “Well don’t just stand there, come on in and have a seat, we’re almost ready to eat.” Armstrong says. Mike looks down at himself then at us and then he takes off his clothes. He rubs his arms a bit and comes into the dining room. “I want to be like you guys a lot, so I might as well start with the easy stuff like clothes,” he laughs. We chuckle a bit and sit down and have a nice meal. ************************************************** ********************** This was the hardest day in my life. Muscles I didn’t even know I had hurt. I can barely walk up these stairs to bed. My dad put me through a lot in training, but it was nothing like this; Armstrong demanding power and Sam demanding precision, both of them being relentless and accepting nothing but perfection. It was tiring, but satisfying. I felt good when I did well and saw their accepting faces. But boy am I tired now. I collapse on my bed and look at the nearby clock. It’s only 10 pm and I’m dead tired. But I still have to shower. I slowly crawl to the shower and let the water wash over me. As I’m bathing, I think about all that’s happened today. “Armstrong was right. I was holding back. Pain really doesn’t matter. Sure it hurt like hell when he hit me, but he didn’t hit me full power. I didn’t break anything and I feel ok now. I feel like I really tried and it felt good. My body might not agree with me tomorrow though.” “And Sam. What can I say about him? He makes everything seem so precise. I would’ve just thought if I hit the guy hard enough he would move, but Sam makes it seem more of an art than just uncontrolled rage. He makes it seem simple too. If he wears his pads like this, hit him like so. If he’s this size, his center of gravity is here. His pads are slack here. He seems to have so much knowledge. I’m very glad I found them.” “The food was really good all day. Different than what my parents cook, but still healthy tasting. And Sam and Armstrong are really free around each other. I’ve never seen two guys so comfortable with themselves and each other. But who can blame them? Their bodies look so good. Even without doing that much of a workout today, their muscles are still tight and firm and bulging with power. They hold themselves with such pride and majesty, it makes me proud to be their friend. And of course, their manhood is nothing to be ashamed of. They have everything I aspire to be: hardworking, huge, kind, tough, and respectful. That is my goal. I will stand up one day and be like them.” The water’s getting kind of cold now. I guess I should get out. That feels so good and the bed looks so very comfortable. I put on my boxers and fall on top of it, barely getting under the covers. As I drift off to sleep, I think I hear stuff moving and people talking in Armstrong’s bedroom, but I’m sure it’s nothing. So very tired. ************************************************** ********************** That’s how life was for Mike for the next several months. We worked him hard in the gym and on the weekends. He trained almost 7 days a week, working diligently to be like us and his father. And he’s growing too, steadily as time passes. For the first months, he remained around the same height but was packing on lots of bulk and muscle. He grew from around 100lbs to close to 225 of solid mass. Then his growth spurt started to hit. We watched as he grew taller and taller, almost everyday it seemed he grew half an inch. “Little Mikey” truly grew into “Big Mike”. By the time a year had rolled around, Mike had grown almost a half a foot in height and was up to 230 lbs of lean muscle. Everyone congratulated on his change and he felt good. We took pictures of him every month and you could see the change from a scrawny, unsure kid, to a confident powerful teen. His pictures showed the gradual, but evident change from his former 5’ tall, 100lb frame to his current 5’6’’ 230lbs mass. Then Mike told us it was football tryout time. We went to the mall and bought him some pads and some baggy t-shirts. He really wanted to show the coaches and players who he haven’t interacted with in a year what he was made of. After putting all the equipment on, he looked like a normal teen. The baggy shirt and pads hid his bulging chest and broad shoulders decently, and you couldn’t see his ripped abs. The only thing that stood out was his powerful arms and his well defined legs. Mike found that if he relaxed enough, his arms didn’t stand out too much, but there was nothing he could do about his legs. “I’ll just attribute it to all the running I did,” Mike smiled. We knew he was ready to show his former mockers. Armstrong and I arrived at the school early so we could get passes to get on the campus. As we strolled through the halls, we saw all kinds of kids. Some of my old feelings came back, and I wished that I could help them. They need to find the gym for themselves I told myself and I dropped Joe’s cards in a lot of their lockers. If they come, they’ll get help, I said to Armstrong. We arrive at the field and we stand on the sidelines. Mike runs up to us as hyper as ever and tells us he’s glad we came. We say we’re anxious to see what he’s learned and Mike responds that he’s anxious to use it. “My god I hope he doesn’t kill anyone,” I whisper to Armstrong after he leaves. Armstrong chuckles and says “He learned your control, he shouldn’t. Shouldn’t.” We both burst into laughter as the rest of the team runs onto the field. Warm ups are interesting. First they have to run laps, which Mike easily does, keeping ahead of almost everyone. Then there’s stretching, jumping jacks, push ups and other exercises. Armstrong and I survey the team. Mike is doing everything with no problem, but there are people who are getting tired already. Whether they’re first timers or long standing players, we don’t know. Then the moment the 3 of us were waiting for: Lineman try-outs. Mike is standing in the middle of the line of new hopefuls. We look over them as they try to move this large senior, which I’m assuming is the same guy that dashed Mike’s hopes last year. Most are bigger than Mike by sheer dimensions, but none of them have his muscularity. Most of them move the test subject a bit and slip by him. They are considered to pass. Some can’t move him and walk back to the coach for other assignments. I see the disappointment on some of their faces and know that’s how Mike felt last year. Then Mike is up. We move closer so we can watch. It was the most beautiful and painful thing I’ve seen in a long time. Mike stood in his three point stance perfectly. The senior leaned down a bit. Mike looked up at him with a pair of cold and determined eyes. The coach blew his whistle and Mike hit him with a giant crunch, lifted him under his pads and carried him almost 5 yards before slamming him to the turf. As Armstrong and I watched this display, ending with the seniors head bouncing off the ground, we both give a resounding “YES!” Mike stands up and looks at us, seeing us cheer him on and then looks at the coach, who stood there shocked. Mike trots up to him and says, “How was that coach?” The coach closes his mouth and responds, “Real good ummm….” as he shuffles his list searching for a name. Armstrong and I walk over and say, “This here’s Big Mike Evans, our buddy. He’s your new defensive lineman.” “Way to go Big Mike,” Armstrong congratulates him as we punch him a bit. “Yeah, I think you knocked the wind out of that guy” I comment as I point to the kid still trying to get up. “You know, I thought it was gonna be hard, but when I hit him like you guys trained me, it felt like he was light as a feather. I probably could’ve carried him further, but I felt I should stop and let him down.” Mike comments “Yeah man, we were glad you didn’t kill him.” Armstrong laughs. “I just feel so powerful now. It’s like a rush.” Mike flexes an arm. “I can’t believe this is really my body. I feel like a new person now.” He flexes some more. “You guys are really awesome.” “You did the work man; we just helped you along the path.” I say. “But don’t think this lets you off the hook for our stuff.” Armstrong comments. “No man, I would never stop working out with you guys. I mean, look at some of these guys.” Mike waves his arm around at the rest of the guys working and trying out. “I used to look up to these guys when I was small. Now they seem small to me. I know they’ve been working longer than me, but they don’t have these results.” Mike flexes some more. “I know it sounds conceited, but I’m better than they are. It’s because you two made me better. I don’t want to lose what I have and I doubt anyone in this whole school is as dedicated as you two.” We jab Mike in the shoulder and say, “We’re always here for you man.” Mike goes back over with his new team, standing tall and proud. Armstrong and I beam with pride; our young prodigy has grown into a respectful teen. We watch the day’s practice and are disappointed when it ends in about two hours. Mike is still hyper as ever when practice has ended while the rest of the team is tired. “Man guys, that was so awesome. I feel great,” Mike said as he bounced up and down on his calves. “Hey guys, let’s go work out!” Armstrong and I look at each other and agree. We wait for Mike to change out of his practice clothes into his gym clothes and meet us back outside. Armstrong and I meet Mike outside the school’s weight room. He’s wearing the sleeveless t-shirt I gave him long ago and he’s close to filling it out. Armstrong and I didn’t wear good shirts to workout in, so we just take our shirts off and tossed them in our vehicles. We walk into the school’s weight room and it looks pretty decent. There are a few machines and a bunch of benches and plenty of free weights. “This’ll do for a light workout,” Armstrong says and we all burst into laughter. Mike is the first one up. He is still hyped from football practice and is lifting bigger than normal. We follow suit with our normal weight and Mike is keeping up good, a mere 75lbs behind us. We hit the bench machine and I happen to notice that we’re drawing a little crowd. I jab Armstrong in the side with my elbow and point. He smiles and goes to spot Mike. Mike hasn’t noticed the crowd yet, but we put 325 on it. He goes for 10 reps and we push him to do 12. He pushes it out hard, grunting the last rep. We rack the weight and he turns and stands up and notices a large portion of his new team standing there, mouths wide open in shock. He looks at us and we smile. He then looks at his teammates and does a double bi pose, flexing as hard as he can. You can see every muscle on his body rippling, both from the intensity of pump and the flex. I watch as the people who are watching gawk in awe at the spectacular showing Mike’s giving them. I see some of their eyes drift lower on him as the rest stay fixated on his bulging biceps. We pat him on the shoulder and say “Way to go Big Mike.” He smiles a huge grin at us and piles on our additional 75lbs so we can do our benches. Armstrong and I try not to show off too much, but Mike is enjoying himself greatly. The people dispersed a bit, but they still looked from a distance, and Mike was giving them a show. He’s taken off his shirt and he flexes after ever set. You can see the definition on his body and every muscle is pumped. Even though he’s only doing chest today, his arms are full of blood and his veins are showing the power he now possesses. He looks to us and says, “I know I shouldn’t be showing off. I don’t even know why I’m doing it. But it does feel good.” Armstrong whispers, “Don’t worry about it man. You deserve the looks you’re getting. Just don’t forget where you came from, and never forget where you’re going.” “I can never forget you guys. Each time I stand in the mirror, I see the work that you’ve done. I know that if I stop, I’ll lose these gains,” he says as he points to his arm. “No one here is near as hardcore as you guys, and I’ve grown to love how much you guys push me. If anything, you’ll see more of me.” Mike smiles as I finish up my set and we both give him a giant hug. Everything came together so well. I can’t believe the gains I’ve made in one year. I bet that senior was surprised when I told him who I was. God, it felt good to slam him like that. He felt so light and moved so easily, I barely had to try. To think just a year ago, I couldn’t budge him, and now I could carry him around effortlessly. Today just seemed so surreal. Last year, I had trouble keeping up with the warm-up after the jog, but today, everything was so easy. The guys around me were winded after warm-ups but I felt energized. And god, did it feel good to toss that senior around like a rag doll. I still can’t believe it. Have I really come so far ahead of everyone else? They’ve been working at it for years. It’s all because of Armstrong and Sam. My teammates can’t be working as hard as Armstrong and Sam made me work. I walk into my house and sit down to eat. My dad comes down from his room to talk to me. “So how did it go son?” I try not to smile too much, but I almost yell, “I’m on the team dad!” He walks over and gives me a hug and says, “Good job. You deserve it. You’re a big man now and I know you’re going to do well. Tell me all about it.” “Well, first we started with a jog. Nothing like what we do though. It was 4 times around the track, you know, easy stuff. Then it was a bunch of warm up exercises. Some of the guys around me were tired when we finished, but I was good and excited. Then they told us who to see for what positions. Oh, and Sam and Armstrong were there. I stopped to talk to them before I walked over to the defensive linemen tryouts. They told me to take it easy on them.” I smile a bit. “The test was the guy I couldn’t move last year. I knew this year was going to be different. He was still taller and a bit larger than me, but I saw he was a lot fatter than last year. I hit him just like Sam and Armstrong trained me. I got under his pads and I carried him a bunch before I slammed him on the ground. Sam and Armstrong went crazy on the sidelines and the coach was shocked. I ran over and asked coach how I did and he was speechless. Sam said to him, ‘This is Big Mike Evans, you’re new defensive lineman,’ and all coach could do was nod. Sam and Armstrong congratulated me on the nice hit and I was so proud. It was all thanks to their training. They watched as we did the rest of the day’s practice and when it was over, we hit the weight room.” “You weren’t tired after all that practice?” my dad inquires. “No, I was so hyped. It was only two hours and the guys put me through a lot more than that. So, we hit the weight room and it’s a decent one. We do our normal workout and Armstrong was pushing me while I’m trying a slightly higher weight. I get 12 out and I’m proud, then I noticed the football guys were watching me. I felt kinda funny at first, but then I started flexing at them.” I held up my arm and flexed a little bit for my dad. “They were shocked and it made me feel good. I mean seniors were impressed by my size and muscles.” “Sounds like you had a nice day today.” I scarf down some more steak and respond “Yeah dad. I can remember when I didn’t think this was gonna be possible, but you and Sam and Armstrong made it all happen. I really love you dad.” I get up and walk over to my dad. I’m bigger than I used to be, but he still picks me up and hugs me. We stand for a moment in that hug and he puts me down. “You are becoming a big man. I won’t be able to do that much longer,” he laughs. “Heh, don’t worry dad, I’ll pick you up instead soon!” I head upstairs to take a shower. When I get into the restroom, I catch myself in the mirror. I’m wearing the shirt that Sam gave me the first time we met. It’s faded from its original black, and there some holes in it in various places, but what caught my eye is how I looked in it. When I first got it, it fit me like a dress. It hung down to my knees and was completely wide. Now, I fill it out a lot better. It hangs off my shoulders well, my body is wide enough to make it look baggy but not completely funny. It’s still a bit long for me, but it’s amazing to see the gains. Why didn’t I notice this stuff before? I flex a bit and I can see myself fill out the shirt a bit more. “Amazing” I say to myself. Then I begin to take the shirt off and I catch the smell of it. I’ve never noticed it before, but the shirt smells like that same smell I smelt the first day. But now I know what it was. This shirt, which was worn by Sam when he lifted and worn by me while I worked hard, smelt like muscle. I can label the smell now. It smells like Sam, Armstrong and I, sweating hard. It smelt like the metal and the weight. There was the scent of the locker room where we showered and there was even a slight hint of blood and tears. I took a deep breath of it and exhaled a giant “Ahhhh.” Now I knew why my father did the same when he first took me to the gym. It was great. It was like how men should really smell. Screw colognes, the stench of muscle and metal should be all over us, the exhilarating scent of power and hard work should be what defines us. I take off the shirt completely and look at myself. I look a lot better than I used to, but I still have a long way to go before I get to where I wanna be. I flex a bit more and I see myself getting hard. I look down at my cock and I say, “Yeah, I know you like that too.” I love getting the muscle as much as I like watching it. I jump into the shower and wash up, my mind reeling from today’s events. It can only get better. ************************************************** ********************** I’m sitting at my desk one boring day, and I’m reminiscing over the past 2 years. Year one of Mike’s transformation ended with him becoming his dream: a defensive lineman. He wasn’t on the starting line yet, but he could’ve been if he was a junior or senior. Every game he played and excelled. Year two was a lot more interesting. After he started playing football, he never seemed to tire. He would catch Armstrong and me after his football practice and make sure he got his daily workout in. Every weekend, he continued to do his personal football camp. We saw gains in him that made us proud. When he first started playing football, he was around 5’6’’ and 230lbs, but in the past year, he’s grown a full foot. And the constant running and lifting and diet has bulked him out to a lean 280. While he’s as tall as I am and a little shorter than Armstrong, he’s not as massive. But what he lacks in mass, he more than makes up for in definition. He’s a natural ectomorph and you can tell. While Armstrong’s shakes bulked me up, they added more lean muscle to Mike. Every muscle on his body is ripped. He carries no more than six percent body fat, no matter how much he eats. We went to his team’s dinner, and all three of us had to be fitted for suits, so that gave us a good excuse to be measured. Armstrong: 6’8’’ 334 lbs. Chest: 64’’ Waist: 36’’ Neck: 25’’ Arms: 27’’ Calves: 28’’ Quads: 37’’ Me: 6’6’’ 321 lbs. Chest: 61’’ Waist: 34’’ Neck: 22” Arms: 25’’ Calves: 25’’ Quads: 33’’ Mike: 6’6’’ 280 lbs. Chest: 57’’ Waist: 34’’ Neck: 20’’ Arms: 23’’ Calves: 24’’ Quads: 30’’ He continues to keep up with us in everything; eating, lifting and life over all. Over the past year on our weekends, I’ve been guiding him through some simple Taijutsu katas, forms and movements in a set pattern. He’s been keeping up with it and looks good doing it. While my frame is a lot bigger, his is extremely toned and you can see every vein move as he performs the kata. This week is Mike’s two year anniversary and we have a beach trip in mind. I haven’t heard of Mike having any girlfriends or a social life, so it will be interesting to see what he does at the beach. I pick up the phone and confirm our reservations. We plan on going to an extremely nice beach house, right on the beach. Our goal is to have lots of ‘fun’ this weekend and to do so we need to be as close to the white sands as possible. The time is slowly ticking away, me fantasying about the beach is keeping me awake enough. The day finally ends and I head out to the gym. We’re going to be meeting up there and taking Mike out shopping after we finish lifting. Armstrong and I arrive at the same time as usual and we great each other. We hit the gym feeling good about the upcoming weekend. ************************************************** ********************** “Coach, I won’t be in town this weekend. I’m going off with Sam and Armstrong. We have a vacation planned, my first one in almost 3 years.” I tell my coach. “Don’t worry; I’m sure that I will be working hard while I’m there. Sam and Armstrong aren’t ones to let me rest too long.” Coach looks up at me and says, “I wish the rest of your teammates had as much dedication as you did. I tell all the JV players that they need to be like you if they want to start.” I say to coach, “Thanks. It’s all Sam and Armstrong though. I just moved the weight. They made me feel like I could do it.” “Maybe I should get them to come down here and do strength training for the team.” “I don’t think so. I mentioned it to them once, saying how there’s people who could use their guidance, and they said to me ‘They must make the first step and find us, like you did.’ I don’t quite understand it, but I guess what they mean is you really have to want to change before they can help. I remember I was at my wits’ end when I first met them. If I wasn’t, I doubt I would’ve stuck around after that first night.” My mind wanders back to that night; the haircut, Armstrong shocking me with his huge size and me discovering things about myself I never knew. If someone wasn’t desperate or willing, they would’ve ran out the locker room screaming after Armstrong started roaring. I guess what they said is true. They must find the gym and first. “….next game.” Coach says as I get startled out of my daydream. “Huh coach?” “I said we’re starting on defensive end the next game.” “Cool! Thanks coach!” “You’re the best man for the job Big Mike, what did you expect?” “Still, it’s a giant honor.” I look at my watch. “Geez, is that the time? I gotta get to the gym.” “Tell the guys I said hello and I hope they send me more guys like you.” I laugh as I run out the door and towards my car. I arrive at the gym slightly late. Armstrong and Sam have already done their warm up sets and I need to catch up. They’ve already set aside a spot and preloaded a bar for me. I scream, “I’m late but I’m sure as hell going be giving it my all” The guys in the gym laugh a bit as I sprint to the locker room. One quick change later and I’m back on the floor. Sam and Armstrong pause for a bit and help some of the other lifters while I catch up on my warm ups. I take them slow as usual, taking care not to injure myself. Sam is helping a guy with his one rep max on the bench and Armstrong is growling “Push, don’t give up!” at a guy doing squats. Home Sweet Home. I finish up my warm up just as Sam and Armstrong finish helping out. They walk back to where we’re doing back exercises. Sam pats me on the shoulder and says, “Had a good day big man?” Armstrong starts lifting as I recant the days’ events. Sam gives me a thumbs up as Armstrong says, “Bout time they saw your skill.” He grunts out the last rep and switches off to Sam. “So,” Armstrong continues, “ready for this weekend?” I smile as I say, “Yeah, haven’t went to any beaches in a while. Been hanging out with you two guys for the last few years.” “Yeah,” Sam grunts, “We thought it was a good time for a vacation.” Armstrong responds, “Yeah, we’re going shopping today for stuff, you’ll probably enjoy it a bit.” Sam stands up and laughs a bit. “I still remember my first time shopping with this big lug,” he chuckles, “it was a day I’ll never forget.” I get ready to do my set, wondering what Sam could possibly mean. I know these guys; they always have something interesting up their sleeves. I smile, knowing this is gonna be a fun day. ************************************************** ********************** After our workout, we pile into my jeep, Armstrong in the front and Mike in the back, and head towards the mall. We stop to grab a quick meal at our favorite restaurant and head off to the big guy’s store. We walk in the store and are immediately greeted by the store clerks. There are two females and one male, all very nice looking and slim. We start to head off to the swim section. They have a variety of swim wear there, and Mike is looking at the normal swim trunks, but we have different ideas in mind for him. “Miss!” Armstrong bellows and waves his huge arm, gaining the attention of the nearby clerk. “Yes sir?” “Yes, we’re looking for your speedos.” Soon as he got the word ‘speedos’ out, Mike spins around. I smile as Mike looks at Armstrong. “Oh, yes. They’re right here” the young clerk says as she leads Armstrong to the far wall. Armstrong motions for us to follow, and I head over with Mike following. Once we all arrive at the speedo section, Armstrong looks at Mike. “You’re still about a 34, aren’t you?” “Yeah, that’s about right.” “Good, same size as Sam. Miss, here’s my card. Charge this pair to it.” Armstrong grabs a pair of black briefs off the wall and tosses them at Mike. “Go put them on. If they don’t fit, Sam can have ‘em, but I’m sure they’ll be just fine. Mike looks at Armstrong like he’s crazy, but Armstrong shoos him into the dressing room. Armstrong and I stand outside the dressing room while Mike changes. He steps out in a t-shirt and the new speedos. “Give me that shirt,” Armstrong orders as he goes to rip the shirt off Mike. Mike chuckles as he takes of the shirt and Armstrong directs him to a nearby full length mirror. “You think I can wear something like this?” Mike asks. “Let’s find out” I say as I wave down the helpful clerk. “Miss, how do you think this looks on our friend here?” She looks at Mike’s toned body and her eyes betray her as she stares at his very decent package. Mike turns 3 different shades of red as he watches the clerk stare at him. “I---I think it looks quite nice on him” “Well don’t just stand there, pose for the nice young lady. She needs to see you better,” Armstrong says. Mike turns beet red and begins to pose, starting with a single bi, then a double bi, then a lat flare. The young lady gasps at his physique, holding her hand near her chest. I look around and I see the other two clerks watching Mike’s display with lust in their eyes. Yup, I think they all like how Mike looks in those shorts. “Yes, I think they look really good,” the clerk stammers. “Well there ya go Mike,” Armstrong says, “if the young lady says they’re good, then you’re wearing them this weekend.” I reach up to the wall and grab another pair of black speedos in size 34, two pair of red in size 34 and a couple of size 36’s for Armstrong. We tell Mike to change back so we could leave, but he protests. “I’m not the only one who’s going to show off today. You two gotta try on your stuff too dammit!” “Nah,” Armstrong says with a chuckle, “we know they fit us.” “Dammit, you’re going to try them on. At least then I won’t feel so silly for standing here in these,” Mike laughs. “Ok, if it’ll make you feel better,” I laugh and punch him on the shoulder. I wave down the clerk and tell her to ring all this up real quick. She trots off to the cash register and then comes back with our purchase. I notice that the other clerks have moved to get a better view of us and I chuckle. Looking at Armstrong, I can tell he sees the same thing. We grab the black speedos and head into the dressing room. I step out first and I flex my right arm for the nearby clerk. I see her flutter a bit as Armstrong steps out. He looks like he flexed a little while changing because you can see some of the veins popping out. He strikes a double bi and I look at the other clerks. The female one is touching herself and the male one is licking his lips slightly. Armstrong: The master of getting people aroused. After about a minute of the show, Armstrong speaks up, “So you wanna walk around the mall like this Mike? You know we’re up for it.” Mike bursts into laughter and says, “No man, we wouldn’t want to scare the natives. Better change back into our gear.” We hop back into the changing rooms and switch back into our casual gear. We step out and I notice Mike’s still pumped and kinda hard from the earlier display. My eyes browse the store and I notice there’s only one clerk now. I smile and think, “Wonder where those other two went off to. I hope they enjoyed the show.” The remaining clerk walked up to Mike and placed her hand on his pumped arm and whispered some stuff into his ear before handing him a small slip of paper. Armstrong and I smile as Mike blushes a little more. We grab our bag of stuff and head out. Mike is really getting into being big. He smiles at every person that seems to be staring at his massive physique. He flexes his pecs a little while he walks and he’s all around enjoying the attention. I remark to myself that he’s a completely different person than when we first met, and I’m happy for him. ************************************************** ********************** Today’s the day! After today’s practice and workout, me and the guys are heading up to the beach. It’s gonna be awesome. I’m bouncing around, even more hyper and it shows that I’m excited. My teammates keep telling me to calm down but I just can’t. I’m too excited. I kinda take it out on the offensive linemen though. I’m so eager to finish practice I’m knocking them harder than normal. Coach calls me over real quick and tells me to calm down a bit and not to injure the guys. I look back and I see some of them are sore. I can’t help but laugh a little before I run over to the guys and hug ‘em by the shoulders and say a quick sorry. I can’t help but run everywhere and bounce on my toes when I’m standing. I just can’t hold still. This weekend’s gonna be awesome. As usual, practice ends with me still energized. I tell everyone bye and hop in my car and head off to the gym. My head is still swimming with anticipation of this weekend. I can feel the sea spray, the breeze, the looks of admirers. I wonder to myself, “When did I become so confident?” I remember times when I used to shun the eyes of the public and tried to avoid being seen. Now, I love the attention. It’s because of these I think as I raise my arm and flex slightly. I never would’ve realized how much confidence just feeling good about myself would’ve given me. Even before I had the huge muscles, back when I first joined the gym, I felt good. I think back to the night I first started being called ‘Big Mike’ and how I didn’t feel weird at all being around those huge guys. I helped rack weights and load bars and assisted the big guys in the gym with stuff, and I never felt weird. What was it about being there? Was it that I had a place to belong to? Was it because they didn’t see me as a scrawny kid but as a future man? Was it because of Sam and Armstrong backing me? I don’t know. Maybe all of it, but now, I feel different. I don’t care either. It feels good to feel like this, not worrying about what people think about me or even if they care. Just being able to be free from those thoughts is exhilarating. I roar a bit like Armstrong as I drive down the road. Truly, this is freedom. ************************************************** ********************** We do a quick workout as I tell the gang about the beach house we’re going to. It’s quite large and happens to have a hot tub, a pool, several large rooms and even a gym. Mike sighs with relieve and remarks, “Good, thought I wasn’t going to be able to workout this week.” Armstrong recants, “Don’t worry big man, you’ll defiantly have a workout during this vacation. Plus there’s some things we need to discuss on the way.” Mike looks at Armstrong confused and says “Like what?” “Later,” I say.Mike nods and we resume our quick workout. After we finish, we grab our shakes and Armstrong grabs a small vial of his sweat. It’s about time he found out. We’re cruising down the highway in my jeep when Armstrong begins.“Mike, we have a few things to tell you. We thought that this would be the best time to do so.” “Like what?”“Well, for one, Sam and I are bisexual.”I look in my rear view mirror at Mike to try and discern his feeling on the subject. He didn’t seem upset, but more jovial instead.“Yeah, I’ve known. You two are big guys, and when I’m going to sleep after the grueling training you put me through, I can hear your voices and the bed move in your room. It took me a while to figure it out, but I finally knew. I kinda wanted to be in there with you guys, feeling your muscles and seeing your huge cocks in action.”“Good,” I say, “I’m glad we got that out in the open. We weren’t sure how you’d react.”“Yeah, I’m ok with it. I’m bi myself. I’ve fucked a guy and a gal at the same time already.”Armstrong turns around and pats Mike on the shoulder. “Well that takes care of my next statement. Final thing,” he says as he reaches for the vial, “you see this?”Armstrong hands the vial to Mike and he examines the clear liquid.“Please tell me these aren’t roids.”“No no no. We’re all natural. Well, except for this, but it’s natural too. What you’re holding there is my sweat, slightly purified. I seem to sweat testosterone, and we clean it of impurities and mix it into shakes. So, it’s just me you’re drinking.”Mike gets a look of interest across his face, obviously wondering how that’s possible, and then says, “Ok. That’s cool. I presume that since it is natural, it’s not illegal?”“Nope, I took it to a doctor and he said is was as just like taking aspirin. He also said he was jealous of me because my genetics will keep me producing major amounts of testosterone for a while, and the same goes for people who drink this for years. It seems to alter your body’s chemistry to where your own body starts to make more testosterone naturally, hence the gains.”“So, what you’re saying is, I’ll continue to be able to make gains like this as long as I keep working out?”“Your gains will slow, but as long as you hit the gym hard, you’ll look like that when you’re 60 and 70 years old.”A huge grin appeared across Mike’s face as he envisioned a massive 70 year old Armstrong, out lifting people 1/3 his age. I smile and am relieved about how he took the news. We continue to cruise down the road, laughing and joking and just being free. ************************************************** ********************** We arrive at the house and start unloading stuff. Armstrong and Sam had packed two huge coolers with stuff for the two day vacation so we’d have tons to eat. They grab the coolers while I grab the duffle bags and we head in the house. It’s better than Sam described. The living room is huge, tons of space leading to a dock where you can see the beach. The view is beautiful, the ocean so clear, the breeze so crisp. Armstrong calls me back into the house to put the stuff away. I walk around and see the rest of the place. There’s a fairly nice gym, nothing like home but it should suffice for the two days. There’s a kitchen with a giant fridge. Two bedrooms, both with king size beds. I’m beginning to hope I can spend a little time in Sam and Armstrong’s room on this trip. Out the back door is the pool and hot tub. I nod approvingly, sensing this is gonna be the place of action. I head back towards the bedrooms and drop the luggage off before heading to the kitchen to help put away our supplies. After putting away the tons of pre-made drinks and food, we hit the living room for a little while before being drawn to the gym. We just can’t resist working out. We sat and relaxed for a good five minutes before I started getting jumpy and looking back and forth at Armstrong and Sam, them looking at me with the same glare in their eyes. Funny how I would usually relax at a time like this, now I just have to work out. We hit the in house gym, and since it doesn’t have the massive amounts of weight we’re used to, we decide to do really low weight for 100 reps. Well, I didn’t decide, Armstrong brought it up, and I agreed. After 60 curls, I wish I hadn’t. My arms were burning like acid was being poured on them. I wanted to drop the weight, but Sam and Armstrong were relentless.“Dude, you can’t stop. Look at that gun” Sam encourages me as he points to the mirror. I look at my arm and I like what I see. The high reps have my arm veins twitching madly. Every blood vessel in them are standing at full attention and pumping giant amounts of blood. It’s inspiring and helps me focus on the monumental task. I need a little help getting the last ten out without cheating, but I do it and my arms flop to my side, begging for mercy. “Way to go man, did you feel that burn!” Armstrong cheers wildly. I drop to my knees and exclaim, “Man that was hard as hell!” Armstrong looks at me then Sam and says, “Yeah, this might not be the best idea. Oh well, how bout ice cream!” They burst into laughter and I follow suit. Armstrong picks up a dumbbell about 20lbs heavier and cranks out his reps. I’m still on the floor but I watch as his huge gun churns out the reps. With machine-like precision, the arm goes up and down, each rep demanding more of his muscles than the last. I watch as his skin slowly tightens, the veins in his massive forearm begin to pump harder and harder, threatening to break the skin. Also around 60 reps, I see Armstrong begin to sweat. His arms are bulging with power, the muscles look fatigued but beautiful. The veins work up and down his arm like a serpent, coiling and relaxing at the task. Sam is pushing Armstrong to keep form and he continues to lift. It’s an amazing site, this man’s arms. At rest, they look simply like giant rocks on his arm, but when stressed like this, it’s awe inspiring. The beauty of his muscles working that hard, the blood coursing through his thick veins supplying lifeblood to each fiber, the massive size of it all, it is almost too much to take in. By the time Armstrong hits 100, I think his arms are going to explode. Veins I’ve never noticed have risen to the surface and are throbbing relentlessly against the skin. His forearms and biceps have tightened to almost unreal levels of tension and I can feel myself getting hard. Sam grabs the same dumbbell and starts working on his set. It’s amazing how much alike they are. He performs each rep with the same precision, same rate of lift and decline, same muscles bulging in the same spots. Maybe it’s me being tired from the massive strain on my body, but I feel as if I’m getting light headed. I watch as Sam’s arms bulge and strain just like Armstrong’s, and I get so excited. I’ve never seen them looked so pumped. Sure, lifting like they usually do showed me their exceptional mass, but this was different. They could be ripped if they wanted to because they’re so close to it but they prefer to be big, and seeing their arms ripped like this was a huge turn on. Armstrong does his best to assist Sam with the last few reps and at 100, Sam drops the dumbbells to the ground. “Damn that was a burn!” he shouts. I stand up and I can no longer resist…. I walk over to Sam and I begin to rub his arms a bit, slightly moaning in pleasure. Sam turns to me a bit and says, “Like that pump, don’t you? I know we all do.” He uses his other arm to grab my arm and squeezes it a little. It burns a bit from the pump but it feels so good. After replacing the dumbbells, Armstrong steps over and stands near us, and I reach out my hand to grab his arm also. While rubbing Sam’s arm, I guide my tongue along the road map of Armstrong’s arm outlined by his massive veins. I feel his light layer of hair across my tongue and the salty taste of his manly sweat and I whimper in delight. I have dreamed about doing this kinda thing for the longest, ever since I looked at my dad and other bodybuilders and realized that I loved muscle. I finally feel as if I can explore those feelings with these guys. They seemed to know what I was thinking and they pull off their clothes and help me with mine. It’s like my deepest dream come true. Sure, I still love women, but they don’t have these huge muscles that I also love. We spend the next hour standing there, worshiping each other’s muscles. I spent my time focusing on their upper bodies while they moved from my chest to my arms and down to my legs and back again. They expertly used their hands and tongues to send wave after wave of pleasure to each muscle in my body, and I tried to imitate them with my hands and mouth. Their fingers are running through the crevices of my abs and I flex slightly to gently hold it there. Sam laughs a little and continues upward while Armstrong works my lower body. My hands are exploring Sam’s massive chest with stops at Armstrong’s huge shoulders. It was heavenly, just standing there feeling their rippling mounds of flesh attached to their huge cores. After we finish up, we hit the shower. It’s a nice big shower and it can fit a whole family. Naturally, we all shower together, continuing what we started in the gym. In here, the experience is heightened by the flowing water. I enthrall myself with their bodies, washing their toned muscles as they wash me and each other, paying heed to every mound and indention in their amazing bodies. Our muscles are glistening in the water and soap, flowing around our bodies like rivers. Suds stream down their bodies slowly, following the path outlined by the years of hard work. Our cocks are hard and are rubbing against each other as we slowly draw our hands along each other’s contours. It feels so sensual, the firmness of their muscles and the powerful veins combined with the softness of their touch. I can barely control myself and I feel close to climaxing when Sam turns off the water. He steps out and smiles at us and directs us to the bedroom floor. I happily follow, and we continue on the carpeted floor. We roll around with each other, displaying our naked wet bodies and our rippling muscles. I grab their massive tree trunk legs and go to massage them. Sam picks me up and starts to lift me as if I were a barbell. At the lowest point of each press, I reach down to feel his massive pecs working and I reach towards Armstrong who is sliding his meaty paws up and down Sam’s arms. After a few reps, Sam hands me to Armstrong and the lifting continues. I am throbbing and I begin to stroke my lifter on each press. Armstrong then lays me down between him and Sam and we continue to rub our wet, glistening muscles against each other. We eventually begin to stroke each other as we continue to worship our muscled bodies and I’m first to explode in euphoric delight. Sam and Armstrong follow suit, and we lay on the floor, exhausted, glowing with pleasure, and covered in creamy goodness.“That was amazing guys,” I say.“That’s nothing compared to what’s planned for tomorrow,” Armstrong says. We get up and clean up the area. Seems we’ve had more fun than I thought and it takes half a dozen towels to clean up all the water and jizz. After tossing the towels in the wash along with our clothes, we head downstairs to eat. I’m beginning to wonder why I even bothered with clothes for this trip since now that I’m free with my buddies, I don’t plan on wearing anything around the guys. Our dinner consisted of steak and veggies, and a side of hard beef enjoyment. After dinner, we head off to bed. I’m headed to my room but Sam grabs me by the arm and leads me into the master room. I smile as I think about what’s going to happen, but they say no sex just yet, that I’ll need my energy for tomorrow. We jump into bed and I feel their hard muscles and cocks rub against me. It’s hard to fall asleep like that, but for some reason it feels natural. I eventually drift off to sleep with their massive arms draped across me like shields. ************************************************** ********************** We wake up later than normal around 7 am. I notice that all 3 of us are covered in white stickiness, and I smile. Nice to know the kid is highly aroused. I wasn’t so sure how he would react, but I’m happy. I wake up the gang and we head to the shower. Mike is raging again and it makes Armstrong and me hard too. We spend about thirty minutes “showering” and head to breakfast. After a quick meal, we put on our black speedos and head to the beach. It’s still fairly empty, so I lead the guys to the ocean. “Morning warm up today will be kata number 17 against the sea,” I say as Armstrong smiles. Kata 17 has a lot of circular and precise arm motions and emphasizes tension and control in the upper body. Armstrong knew exactly why I picked this one. While we’re standing still in the water, the kata will focus and pump our upper bodies, stretching the biceps and pecs, and the water will make our muscles stand out more. We begin the long kata, slowly tensing and relaxing our muscles as me move in the warm ocean. As we stand in a line facing the sea, I can see Mike’s tight body get pumped and Armstrong’s veins bulge against his skin and I feel the same in my body. We stand in the ocean for almost an hour, slowly performing the fluid and precise movements of the kata, breathing in controlled methods, being in sync with each other. We finish by bowing to the rising sun and turn around. On the beach are around 20 people, all staring intently at us. I laugh a bit and I smack Mike gently on the ass and tell him they’re checking him out. He laughs and I lead our little group out of the ocean. I spot this trio of college chicks lounging on the sands and I begin to walk over to them with Armstrong and Mike behind me. They begin to whisper and giggle as we approach them. “Good morning ladies,” I greet them as they stop giggling. Armstrong and Mike wave at the young ladies as they smile back. “How are you today?” Armstrong asks.One of the females speaks up and says, “Oh, we’re really good after that performance out there. What was it exactly?”I jab Mike in the side with my elbow and he speaks up, “Oh, it’s called Taijutsu. Something this big lug here taught me.”The leader of the females speaks up, “You looked very good doing that.” Clearly she was flirting with Mike, but Mike didn’t notice. I sit him down next to the chick and sit myself down near another one. Armstrong sits near the end and says, “Yeah, he’s a good kid and he knows his stuff.”“I bet. All you looked real good doing that out there. So big and strong,” she quietly speaks as she rubs Mike’s abs.Mike smiles a bit and I speak up, “Perhaps you ladies would like to join us this eve at our beach house? We plan on having a party and I see that Mike would love to invite you over.” Mike blushes as the woman rubbing him laughs a bit. “We’ll be there,” the female next to me giggles.I stand up and say, “Good, looking forward to having fun with you tonight. Excuse us while we go invite more people.” Mike rubs his companion gently before rising and waving goodbye. Armstrong takes a little more time detaching from his playmate, but we eventually continue down the beach. The large portion of the day was spent enjoying the onlookers and inviting them to our party. We got a large mix of male and female participants. I especially enjoyed our little beach football game. It was kinda unfair, 4 on 8, but they gave us a good run for our money despite the odds. We only won by 21 points. It kinda helps when three of our four players each are almost as big as two of their players. We invited them all to the party and told them to bring the ball too. We had lunch, played a few beach games, flirted with some guys and gals, and before we knew it, it was around time for us to start preparing for the party. We walk back to the house, waving and winking at all the hot people on the beach. I think to myself, damn this is gonna be one nice orgy. We set up some food and drinks that we brought along and we clear out a lot of the breakables to the second bedroom. We plan on keeping most of the action in the living and outside, so we block off the two bedrooms. We spread the couches out a little, exposing more floor space and we place pillows around the area. The door bell rings and Mike goes to answer it. I don’t think he’s realized that he’s naked, but what the hell, everyone’s gonna be soon. ************************************************** ********************** I open the door and see the three girls we first met at the beach and I greet them with a hearty hello. They’re standing on the porch just staring at me and I’m wondering why. A slight breeze blows, and I realize that I’m in my full glory. I smile for them and extend my arm to them, flexing my muscles ever so slightly. I invite them in the house with a Cheshire cat grin saying, “Welcome to our parlor,” and they giggle and enter. The ladies walk into the house and towards the living room where Sam and Armstrong are still man-handling the furniture. Seeing them like that makes me kinda excited so I can imagine what the girls are feeling. I give them a quick tour, showing them the kitchen and the pool area. I say to them that they’re free to relax, and the party should be starting soon. As soon as I guide them back to the living room, the doorbell rings again. I guess it’s later than I thought. I open the door and it’s the guys we played football with today. They also immediately notice I’m naked, but they come in anyway. I give them the same tour and lead them to the living room where Sam and Armstrong are already comfortable with some of the ladies. More and more people come, and soon the living room is full. Music is playing and people are getting more and more comfortable. Surprisingly, no one brought alcohol, but the atmosphere is still light. Our freedom with our bodies seems to make everyone comfortable, and slowly, clothing starts coming off everyone. I would’ve never guess that something like this would happen, but it seems that this was Armstrong and Sam’s plan from the start. The chick I met from earlier is near me, and she’s taking her time exploring my body. She starts with my chest, drawing her gentle fingers along the ridges of my chest. Her touch is so soft, and I feel my member beginning to harden. Her eyes glance towards my package, and they widen as if she was a kid at Christmas. She works her hands down to my cock and begins to wake the beast. My shaft arises to its full glory, and I hear a few audible gasps. She smiles and begins to mount me and Sam tosses a condom my way. My lady catches it and reads the labeling, “XXL eh? I can see why.” She rips the packaging with her teeth and goes to glove my member, slowly working her feminine hands down my throbbing shaft. It feels so good and I see Sam tossing condoms to all the guys in the room. It’s gonna be an orgy, but a safe orgy. She mounts me and starts grinding as some random guy begins to caress my balls with his tongue. “Damn that feels good,” I moan. I look around and I see Armstrong lifting a woman to the ceiling licking her while some guy sucks his massive member and Sam pounds some guy from behind while the guy pounds a chick. There are hands of all types feeling over myself, Sam, and Armstrong, getting a taste of the power our bodies hold. I hear the grunts of people having sex all around me as my chick slowly rides me. I lean her forward and give her a gentle kiss. Her whole body smells of some exotic scent, like lavender and aloe with some other tropical flowers. The guy under her is enjoying himself also, guiding his tongue along my shaft and her ass in rhythm with her. Sam is flexing for his partner, and I hear the coos from the woman admiring his body. The guy sucking Armstrong off has his hands full with Armstrong’s massive meat and the woman that Armstrong is tonguing seems to be lost in ecstasy. Sexual energy is flowing freely, and Armstrong is the first to cum, spraying hot man juice over everyone. His roar as he climaxes causes a chain reaction in the room, leading others to climax soon afterwards. While some people start to die down after that, obviously exhausted from the extreme activity we’re engaged in, we are still hard and ready for more. After a quick condom change, we take a few of the more lively people out to the hot tub and start more action there. I would have never thought I could fuck more than one person in a row, but Sam and Armstrong are almost pushing me to keep up. They’ve pleasured two guys and one woman each already, making them cum harder than I bet they’ve come in a while, and they’re pounding away on the 4th person. The guy I’m with begins to moan and I can tell I’m hitting his prostate just right. I start to thrust deeper and deeper, hearing his moans of pain and pleasure grow. He spews his load over his chest and I direct his hands to my guns as I pound him harder and harder. I cum soon after and I lift him out of the pool. He lies there, exhausted but euphoric. I take off my condom and I walk over to where Sam and Armstrong are. They each have a person, Sam with a chick and Armstrong with a guy. I’m getting hard again from just seeing their muscles work as they work these two over, so I position myself where the guy can suck my meat and the chick can lick the balls. It’s a nice 5-way; water’s splashing everywhere, their moans fill the air, and the primal grunts of the three of us echo. The guy cums first, and I follow suit, shooting my hot load into his mouth. Sam and Armstrong thrust a little more and empty themselves with an animalist roar. The guys lift their partners out of the pool and lay them down on the warm bricks. I grab a towel and lay it across them and then I look at my buddies. Their muscles are standing at full attention, veins bulging everywhere and toned muscle calls to me. Their cocks are still semi-hard, and even now they look amazing. I feel myself getting hard again, and they smile. I’ve cum 3 times in the last couple of hours and they’ve come four times, but it doesn’t seem like the night is over yet. We walk back into the house, dripping of water and jizz and we see the entire party lying there. Everyone’s asleep or falling asleep from the orgasmic bliss, and we slowly make our way to the bedroom. Now it’s time for us to really enjoy ourselves I think. As soon as we get to the room, I drop to my knees and start worshipping Armstrong’s massive body. His legs are just beautiful right now, so pumped from the constant thrusting and his cock is semi hard. I begin to suck it, slowly sliding the shaft down my throat. Sam walks up behind me and crouches down a little, sliding his hardening meat around my back as he rubs my shoulders. I feel his cock rub between the grooves of my shoulder blades as I run my fingers in the crevices of Armstrong’s abs. I hear my moans combine with the growls of my fellow muscle monsters as we worship each other’s bodies. I feel Armstrong’s hands run along my back and tickle Sam’s growing meat. Sam’s hands are exploring the crevices in my arms and my hands are working their way towards the tree trunks attached to the muscle cock in my mouth. I run my hand all around Armstrong’s legs as I slowly work his shaft with my tongue. I feel his serpent swell in my mouth, reaching to lodge itself in the back of my throat. I feel Sam’s powerful arm grabbing my peaked bicep and his cock working itself into my back. All this muscle and cock feel so wonderful and I taste Armstrong’s pre slip from his meat and Sam’s on my back. The thoughts and feelings of muscle everywhere around me, beside me, in me makes my meat swell even larger. I feel a pump that I haven’t felt since I first started lifting and it invigorates me. I begin to work a little harder, wanting to fill my mouth with all of Armstrong. I flex my arms a bit as Sam rubs them and I hear him moan. Armstrong expertly begins to rock back and forth, providing additional sensations to the mix. My hands feel his massive quads work, the muscles twitching and the blood flowing underneath my hands. He leans down a bit and grabs Sam’s arms, massaging the huge mounds of muscle. I take Armstrong’s meat out of my mouth momentarily, wanting to stand against his massive chest. I stand slowly, feeling Sam’s cock slowly slide down the middle of my back and down the crack of my ass. I reach towards Armstrong’s colossal shoulders and around his to his back. His chest is so huge I am unable to fully close my grip around his mass. I spend a few moments letting my hands explore the recesses of his back and lats before he picks me up in a huge hug. Such power feels so good to me and he knows it. Sam approaches and they sandwich me between them. I feel their thickening meats beneath my balls swelling even more. Our three members inter tangle with each other as they press their bodies against mine. Armstrong continues to hold me in mid air as he slides his cock back and forth against my balls and Sam does the same. The sensation is amazing, feeling these muscle cocks and massive monsters all over me is intense, swelling me even harder. I can feel the same is happening to them because their members are slowly but evidently pointing upward. I start to rub my meat between the grooves of Armstrong’s abs and reach behind me to grab Sam’s pulsating forearms as he massages my chest. “God this is so amazing” I moan. “Yeah, you like that hard muscle and these huge cocks don’t you?” Armstrong growls quietly. “Yes sir!” I spatter, “Don’t stop.” Armstrong’s cock feels as if it’s trying to work its way into my ass and I eagerly anticipate it, but it never penetrates me. It slowly rubs back and forth along the crack of my ass and I almost want to ram myself on his huge fuck pole. Sam’s cock has curved up just a bit and is rubbing the underside of my balls, providing sensations I’ve never experienced before. Armstrong lowers me a bit so I’m almost resting on their huge meats and slowly kisses me. It’s so passionate and amazing. The hardness of his muscles contrasts beautifully with the softness of his lips and tongue. Armstrong ends the kiss after what seems like an eternity, and Sam turns my head towards him and he also kisses me. His is just as electric as Armstrong’s and I enthrall myself in it. My tongue is almost overpowered by the muscular tongue of Sam and it makes me even more aroused. I spend a few more moments entwined in this dance of muscle before I allow Armstrong to lower me to the floor. I slide down between them slowly, letting my body experience each ripple and contour of their massive bodies as I return to my knees. My hands slide down the hills and valleys of Armstrong’s body and slowly work my way to his throbbing meat. I slowly guide it into my mouth as Sam repositions his dripping cock on my back. Armstrong’s thrusts are becoming more and more powerful as I increase the pressure in my mouth. I want all of him so bad that I can taste it. His pre is flowing and I can feel his cock and balls tighten in my mouth. Armstrong’s head tilts back as he unleashes his torrent of manhood into my mouth. Sam follows suit and releases a deluge of himself along my shoulders, allowing it to drip down my chest and back and along his shaft. I feel myself approaching climax, and they pick me up off the floor. Using one hand each to hold me up, they use their other hands to stroke me to ecstasy. I explode with more cum than I had unleashed all that night over the three of us and I smile at my two buddies. “This night was amazing guys. I’ve never had anything like it before,” I whisper as my flood begins to recede. “You deserved it man,” Armstrong’s deep bass echoes in my head. “You’ve worked hard and this is just the beginning. Remember the genetic stuff I was talking about earlier, this is another one of the side effects, increased sexual vigor. You can truly keep up with me and Sam now.”Sam laughs a bit and we work our way to the shower. I can feel what they’re talking about because just imaging them wet again is making me hard and I can feel my balls refilling themselves almost immediately. “Let’s go do something about this,” Sam says as he points at his stiffening boner. I laugh as I grab my ever-enlarging meat and step into the shower with my two muscle friends, fuck buddies, and demigods. ************************************************** ********************** Today is the first game of Mike’s senior year. Over the past summer, together we’ve packed about 100lbs of muscle on the three of us. Armstrong and I’ve gained about 30lbs and Mike gained a little over 40. His frame has bulked up a bit, but he still has the ripped, athletic look to him. We’re proud of his gains and we tell him so constantly. He’s proud of himself, but he’s still humble and polite. He opens doors for ladies, helps his mother with the groceries, says ‘Please’ and ‘Thank You’, calls adults ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am’ and just recently, he picked up his father in a bear hug, something he’s wanted to do for a while now. Armstrong, his father, and I beam with pride as we see how good of a young man Big Mike has become. The three of us stood near the sidelines, watching Mike sit on the bench. The national anthem had just played and the captains had just got back from the coin flip. Mike was one of them, being the head of the defense now. The opposing team had won the flip and chose to receive the ball. Mike was sitting down composing himself as we taught him, preparing to release the torrent of rage and power that he holds. The kick is high, and the receiver catches it at the 20 yard line. He returns the ball back about 20 yards and is tackled at the 39. It’s time for the defense to perform. Mike stands up, turns around and places his helmet on his head. He trots to the field and heads to the huddle. They break and line up, Mike being on the right side. The opposing offense lines up while the quarterback slowly walks towards the center. Then Mike looks at him. With a voice that had more fury than a train wreck and overflowing with primal rage, Mike tilts his head back roars tremendously. It echoes throughout the stadium, drowning out the activity on the field, the chatter in the stand and even the blaring of the two large bands. After his feat of primal fury, you could hear a pin drop, a breeze blow or a blade of grass move. His opponents, their fans, his teammates and the fans stood in awe of this avatar of ferocity before them. The three of us could do nothing but smile. After what seemed to be an eternity, the quarterback slowly counts off the hike. He snapped the ball and Mike plows through two of the offensive linemen. The quarterback steps back a few paces for what seems to be a throw as Mike tosses the next person aside. The quarterback turns toward Mike, and froze like a deer in headlights at the sight of this unstoppable tank barreling towards him. Mike lowers his head slightly, placed his hands up towards the quarterback’s chest and careens into him. As the quarterback fell backwards from the force of Mike’s impact, his grip on the ball slipped and the pigskin became free. Mike’s hands slowly drifted toward the free ball. Slamming the quarterback into the ground with a large portion of his mass, Mike completes a forward flip, plucking the ball from the air before it could hit the ground. Like a panther pouncing from a tree to attack its prey, Mike lands on his feet with the agility of a gymnast without stopping his forward momentum. He sprints towards the goal line and scores a touchdown before the other linemen could even get pass their fallen leader. Mike tosses the ball to the ref and trots back to the sidelines. He’s getting so many cheers from the crowd I can barely hear myself think. Mike walks up to us and mouths “How was that guys?” and we all give him a huge thumbs up. They score the extra point and Mike walks to get some Gatorade real quick before he’s on the field again. A gentleman walks down near us and says, “That kid is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”“Yeah, that’s Big Mike,” Armstrong says. “I’m so proud of my son, he’s easily gonna break my record this year,” his dad beams. “So that’s your son?” the gentleman inquires.“Yeah he is.”“Well, I’m a scout for State University. Some of my players told me about him in the gym, but nothing about how he was on the field. He’s really amazing!”“It’s all thanks to these two guys.”“I’d like to shake your hands. You are excellent coaches if you taught him all that.”Armstrong and I shake his hands and smile. We turn back to see Mike running on the field with the same confidence he’s had for years now and the offense almost trembling in fear. A few moments later, Mike has the ball again and has scored another touchdown. Even with them double covering him, he plowed through them, injuring one of them in the process. This display continues well pass the half, with their offense slowly losing people to injury as they try to keep Mike down. The coach tells Mike to rest, seeing as how they’re up 63-0, mostly in part to Mike’s defensive display. Mike walks over to us and we pat him on the pads and tell him how well he was doing. His dad beams with pride as he introduces Calvin the scout from State U. Calvin goes through telling him how he’s never seen anything like it before and how he’s not even tired after destroying what seems to be the entire starting offense. Mike laughs and says, “These two right here put me through stuff a hell of a lot tougher than that for the past few years. This is child’s play compared to running into this brick wall that I call Armstrong.” Armstrong laughs as he jabs Mike’s shoulder, “I can see why so many of their guys are scared of you now. If you’re hitting them as hard as you hit me, I’m not sure anyone will want to play against you!” We chat some more and the game ends 70-7. Mike tells his dad that he’s going to hang out with us and meet with the scout tomorrow with us in tow. We smile at Mike a smile that says what Armstrong and I are thinking. “Boy oh boy do we have a celebration lined up for you tonight.” Mike smiles back and I can almost hear his jock strap ripping from anticipation. This post has been promoted to an article
  16. zangetsu

    Beyond Sexy

    I've recently edited the story, and was suprised to learn that on microsoft word, using times new roman size 12, the entire story is 63 pages long. Part 1 Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. The shape irritating sounds of an alarm clock, jerk me awoke. I lift up my left arm to press the reset button, but just before hitting it, I stop and tense my arm. It hangs in midair for a moment afraid of destroying yet another alarm clock. Relaxing my arm, a thick finger gingerly presses the reset button. For several seconds I continue to lie on my firm mattress. Swinging my legs so that my feet touch the floor, I lift my torso so that I am sitting on the bed. Releasing a yawn, instinctively my arms raise themselves up and stretch behind my back. My white shirt stretches over my expansive chest. Relaxing my arms, I push against the floor with my legs to stand up. Slowly I walk over to the door, duck and turn sideways. I nearly bump my shoulder into the wall, straightening my body on the other side. I catch myself before it is too late, and continue walk through the hall, it seems small. The hall is narrow; no that's not exactly right. For anybody else, the hall would provide adequate space. However, my shoulders are very wide; they occupy most of the length of the hall. Walking past the living room, I head into the kitchen. Off the wall mounted pot and pan rack, I grab a pan and set it on the stove. I turn on the stove and place the pan on the front burner to heat up. From the refrigerator, I take out four eggs, and some butter, then set the items on the table. I open a cabinet and take out a bowl and plate. Cracking the eggs into the bowl, I discard the shells into the trash. From a drawer, I get a fork and start whisking together the eggs. It is a simple action, beating eggs, but my muscles respond to the simplest stimulus. Flicking my right wrist triggers a wave of moment that causes the muscles in my arm and chest to respond. My body fat is so low that the movements of my muscle issue are readily visible. I watch as my muscles tighten and relax, compress and stretch. Sometimes even I get memorized by their size and definition. Tearing my eyes away from admiring my arm, I throw some butter on the pan now that it is hot. Swirling the butter around, I add the egg mixture. I grab a plastic spatula off the rack and begin to stir the mixture. My stirring is more vigorous this time around, so I grab the hand of the pot with my free hand. As I shape my omelet, again I take notice the muscles in my arms and chest. The left side of my torso is lightly flexed form grabbing the handle; the right side is much more alive. The muscles seem to dance on their own accord. They bulge and contract, bulge and contract. My body is covered striations and prominent veins. Everything seems to jump out at the simplest task. The display isn't long; after all, I'm just making one omelet. I dump the omelet onto the plate, and season it with salt and pepper. From another cabinet I take out a tall glass, and I fill it with milk from a carton. That's my breakfast, it's surprisingly little for someone my size, but it usually carries me several hours. Using another fork I eat my omelet ignoring the movement of my muscles as my bicep contracts as my arm brings the food and milk glass to my mouth. When I'm done I place all the dirty dishes in the sink and wash them; leaving them upside down to dry. Before leaving the kitchen, I open the sink cabinet and take out some dog bowls, and fill two with tap water and another two with dog food. I'm an early riser, earlier than my dogs; most days I don't see them in the morning. I move towards my bedroom, but decide to stop in the living room, and watch TV instead. I tap the power button my TV and walk backwards to my couch. When my calves touch the base the couch I gently lower myself to the cushion. The couch groans as it bears my immense weight. I stretch my arms along the very top of the couch. They are long enough that my palms are able to touch the left and right sides of the couch. My back is perpendicular to the cushion, and by butt compresses the cushion to its absolute smallest. My knees are uncomfortably high, so I extend and stretch them wide. The TV finally cuts on to the weather man finishing the weekly forecast. He makes a quip about the week ahead and passes the camera to a news anchor. The anchor a tall blonde man, rather handsome, thanks the weatherman and begins reading from the prompter. I listen to few stories; I don't really like the news, but it's good to stay informed. After about fifteen minutes, I've watched enough. Getting up, my couch makes a noise, almost as if it’s relieved to be free of my weight. I power off my TV and make my way to my room. In my bedroom, I straighten the sheets, smooth the cover, and fluff the pillows. Then I walk over to my dresser and pick up my clothes for the day, I always pick out the next days' clothes before bed. A door way separates my bedroom from my bathroom; I really hate doing so much ducking and turning as I move from one room to the other. The bathroom actually by regular definitions, moderately large, but to me it’s almost as bad as the hall. The shower used to have glass doors, but I couldn't properly clean myself so I removed the doors and now just mop up any resulting mess. I place my clothes in the bathroom closet. Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I begin lifting it up, and catch my reflection, the baggy shirt is partially lifted, revealing my lower abdomen. I'm kind of like a partially clothed bodybuilder or mannequin, or statue. Picture a bodybuilder or mannequin, built with large muscles, wearing a really loose shirt. It’s apparent that it is big. The thickness of the shoulders is always a dead giveaway. So is the way the shirt is draped over the pectoral muscles and falls straight down, leaving plenty of empty space between the shirt and the abdomen. Imagine what they look, and one can, on a mannequin at least, even go over and lift up the shirt. One can compare his/her imagination to the real thing. When a bodybuilder, fitness model, or mannequin wears a skin tight shirt, almost nothing is left up to the imagination. Though just enough imagination is left to leave an observer wanting or in some cases salivating. By removing the clothing, one can see finer details, more veins, and more striations. There is couple of problems with me wearing "skin tight" clothes. For one thing, I don't see how it’s possible for me to get off the rack shirts large enough to pass over my massive shoulders and still somehow hug my lower body. Plus if my clothes really were "skin tight" inhaling, lifting my arms, probably just twitching my muscles would cause any article of clothing to explode off my body, and if by some chance my clothing didn't tear, while I went about my daily routine, how would I take anything off? I'd have to rip everything off, and constantly buy new clothes. Then there is the real problem. Every time I do wear something that baggy, everyone stares, and I mean everyone. The gap between fantasy and reality works in my favor. In my baggy clothes it's obvious I'm muscular, but no matter how much one imagines my naked torso one can't get close to what it really looks like. But when I wear something tight it becomes more like a sexual frenzy. People see the unbelievable, and lose whatever shred of self-control they have. They are filled with an overpowering sexual energy, in an instant, and that energy can't be contained by their mortal bodies. They orgasm, and experience unrivaled joy. My naked body is even worse. They experience the same overpowering sexual energy, but on a higher scale. Instead of having one orgasm, they have multiple. My body, flexed muscles, my smile, and even the intensity of my eyes surpass reality. These revelations cause anyone who witnesses them to lose control of their bodies. I need to dress in order to prevent such occurrences from happening. It is better to have everyone stare, than to orgasm uncontrollably. My shirts are custom made so that they will pass over my shoulders without leaving my bottom torso looking like I'm wearing a skirt. They are stretchy, loose, and comfortable, at least for the time being. So, anyways as I lift my arms above my head, I notice how my arms bulge out. I can't see my full reflection in the mirror, but I can see my biceps and triceps, so round, so full, so sensual. The urge to kiss my biceps digs into my brain. When I was really into myself, I remember kissing them constantly, hell people paid to kiss and/or touch them. Hundreds, thousands, I could have gotten millions from the people that could afford it and from the people that couldn't. At a time when I was high in demand, people were getting loans to pay to worship me. Some declared bankruptcy. One guy spent his trust fund; another guy stole money from his company, but the most extreme was this billionaire couple, Mary and Troy. They offered millions, but by the time they reached me I had discovered that money was something I didn't need. No, apparently just being me is more than enough to get by. Walking, talking, flexing, or even just staring gets me anything I wanted. They persisted, begged, cried, and eventually won, not really. Instead of taking their money, directly at least, I went to live with them. They took care of me so to speak. The three of us lived in massive mansions, in the woods, on the beach and in the mountains. They clothed me in the finest garments, bought and cooked the finest foods; I indulged in all my desires. Anyone else in a similar situation would have been terrified to lose such a position, but not me. I made the couple dismiss their house staff, that’s why we were alone. When I wanted something, the man or woman personally took care of it. Sometimes when I ejaculated, I told them not to wash it off and to go to work drenched in my semen. I basically enslaved two of the richest and most powerful people in the planet. To me they were my slaves. They worshiped me, gave me everything I demanded, and in exchange I nearly ruined them. They are one of the reasons I decided to turn my life around. I stare at my shirtless body. I can understand why Mary, Troy, and damn near every other person in the world wants me. My biceps demand to be adored and glorified. They want attention, to be showered in kisses and praise as they flex and pose. They want the world to stare at their perfection, at their size and marvel that they can still improve and grow. Maybe, deep down I miss all that, the attention. The power of knowing that I if walk in a room, every single person will want me and that I can literally do anything I want. I force myself to ignore such thoughts and continue undressing. I should step away from the mirror, but today I don't seem have the self-control to stop looking. As I remove my sweatpants, I can see how my pectoral muscles react when my hands lower my sweats and briefs. My penis and testicles are in proportion to my body, and as my body grows so do they. I throw off my socks, and wad up my night clothes into a ball and toss it into the laundry hamper. Before stepping in the shower, I turn on the water so that it will be warm. Once the water is ready I step into the rub. I duck so that my hair can get wet, and begin shampooing. The warm water is running down the front of my body. As I shampoo I enjoy the feel of the water as it hits my tight upper abdomen and flows down my body. Once satisfied with shampooing, I bend over to wash off the shampoo from my head. As I rinse my hair, I need to turn my body sideways, otherwise my shoulder touches the wall and I have to lean at an angel to rinse my hair. I use body wash instead of soap, because soap bars are too small for me, and I very quickly run through them. Squirting some body wash on my hands, I proceed to lather my body. Again I bend my knees and rotate my body so that water washes over me. It is very uncomfortable and time consuming. As I run my hands along my body, I feel everything. Every bump, every ridge, every crevice. Everything. The hardness of my body, combined with my body heat, and the warm water, make me feel like a made of living metal. My muscles are so fluid, so graceful, but at the same time they are hard and unyielding. I'm not fully immune to my own body. I should be, but I'm not. Every once in a while I worship myself. Today is one of those days. I flex my arms, no matter how I describe them, there is nothing like seeing them in person. I don't know too much anatomy, yet, but I can see the distinct muscle groups. I can see the short and long heads of my biceps forming two separate mountains. They rise higher and higher, the world largest biceps become increasingly larger. My deltoids bulge, my triceps expand to what should be inhumanly possible to obtain. My pectorals are covered with striations, and absolutely massive. They are like two bronze pillows, except they harder than titanium. I run my hands along my abdomen; each ab is so unbelievably thick and pronounced. Sometimes I can't believe my size, I'm so massive, I'm the biggest most muscular human to ever exist, and yet I know that I'm not done growing. I record my height, weight, and the circumference of various body parts, and every week the numbers increase. I have been recording these values for years, and not once have any of the measurements decreased in the slightest. I'm big and getting bigger. Period. This fact, this absolute indisputable fact, gets me hard. In an instant my penis fill with blood and it reaches its fully erect size. It hits my torso with a thud, shaking the windows. Just like the rest of my body, it is a sight to behold. It puts horses to shame, the girth is unearthly, the sheer magnitude is beyond words, like the rest of my body. It always takes me at least thirty minutes to have an orgasm. I work quickly; firmly grabbing my penis I massage the head. I can give myself a blow job, but I don't want to risk slipping, so I settle for masturbating to myself. An immense pressure builds up inside my body. My gargantuan body, my titanic penis, everything about me is just so incredible. I give myself more pleasure than any single person or group of people has ever given me. I applying pressure to my penis in a way that only I am able to. Only I'm strong enough to really satisfy it. My pleasure builds until, I let out a roar that shakes the entire foundation, as my penis explodes. I try to aim toward the drain, but I still hit the wall in front of me and the ceiling. I unleash several shot of cum, so many that it seems like an eternity has passed before I finally stop. As I recover, I shut off the hot water, and turn on the cold water full blast. Standing partially in the cold freezing water, I fully recover my senses. I look at the state of my bath. Even though most of my cum went down the drain, there is lots some dripping down from the ceiling and quite a bit splattered on the wall. Composing myself, I step out of the shower to get my shirt out of the laundry hamper. After adding some shampoo and running it under water, I begin using the shirt to clean my mess. I barely have to stretch to reach the ceiling. When the cum is off the wall and ceiling, I wash the cum covered shirt with some more shampoo, and ring it dry before tossing it in the sink. I get back to the shower and finish cleaning myself. I'm hesitant to clean my penis; I don't have another 30 minutes to kill. I start to think about the most unappealing things and get to work. The water is colder in my house than in most other houses, I had the water deportment make it so that I receive extra cold water. I tremble as I continue to shower, but I don't want to be a slave to my own body so I endure and continue. When I am satisfied with my cleanliness, I shut off the freezing water and reach for my towel. It is far enough to not get wet, but still easily with in my reach. I very quickly dry myself off, and then I walk to get my clothes out of the bathroom closet. My solid red long sleeved-shirt is rather expensive, nothing fancy just oversized. I have to be careful, because if my pull down my shirt too hard it may tear. I put in one arm at a time and pull the hem down, no problem. My jeans are blue and very basic. I can't seem to get jeans that are able to go over my massive legs and conceal my endowment, without being loose on my waist but it's okay because I can always wear a belt. My waist is the only about me that is small. It is smaller than the average waist for males. I need some really big socks to go over my humongous feet. I slip them into shoes that are comically large. After clothing myself, I find that I am comfortable, but avoid looking at my reflection. I don't need any more excitement today. I pull out a mop from the closet and clean up the mess on the floor from the water hitting and bouncing off my body, then ring the mop in the tub. From the sink, I pick up the shirt and I throw it in the hamper. I take the mop outside and leave it again the house. I walk back to my bathroom to brush my teeth, all the while smelling trace amounts of cum. The room smells like sex. I don't want to deal with it now, so I leave. Briskly I walk through my room, through the hallway and into the living room. On a table near the front door I left a stack of notebooks, and a pencil box. Next to those items is a bowl with my wallet and keys. I grab my stuff and step out. I lock the door behind me. The sun is just barely coming out. It's a new day and I try to be optimistic about what is in store for me.
  17. Shade

    Fraternity Muscle: Part 5

    Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 The Party Greg stepped off the scale. He was five pounds heavier than he had been yesterday. He could feel it. He felt bigger, heavier, more solid. He stood before the full length mirror in the bathroom and enjoyed what he saw. His naked body was a piece of art. Greg remembered what life had been like five weeks ago. How small he’d been. No defined muscle, just skin and bones. In the last few weeks he’d seen incredible gains in size and strength. His arms now laced with veins pulsing under the skin, and beneath those thick, powerful pythons of muscle. When he made a fist the solid fibres of his forearms danced beneath his now tanned looking skin. He had a healthy glow. Greg’s favourite parts though were his biceps. Between his elbow and his massive round delts lay the long muscle bellies of his biceps and triceps. The best part was when he brought his forearm up to make a muscle and the powerful length of his bicep would mound ever upwards. A few weeks ago it had been small, but each day it continued to form an ever growing peak. Now it was a solid massive ball. On par with any light heavyweight teen bodybuilder. And better even than most. Three times now he’d inadvertently flexed and split the seams of his polo shirt. His parents kept asking why he needed more money for clothes. Greg didn’t know what to tell them. Especially considering that the polo shirts of a few weeks ago would no longer fit around the massive girth of his new chest and back. He’d done five hundred chin-ups yesterday with an extra three hundred pounds strapped onto his body, which weighed two hundred twenty pounds. His back muscles benched and flexed with the slightest movement. And he’d begun buying clothes a couple sizes too big, because he knew that those two slabs of meat that were his pecs would too soon strain the cotton fabric of anything smaller. And fuck trying to button up the collar. His neck was just too thick. No button would hold. There seemed to be no such problem with his waist though. It seemed to be the only part of his anatomy not making astronomical gains. Instead it looked like a bricklayer had laid each of the bricks of his eight pack. Three weeks ago it had been like a washboard of ten abs. Now it was a titanium wall. And his jeans now clung tightly to his new ass and legs as well. Greg had been busting his ass with squats and they’d paid off handsomely. He knew he had the best ass of the pledge class by far. He involuntarily flexed the muscles of his quads. Damn, they were powerful. And calves like diamonds. But Greg was also growing taller as well. He grabbed his cock and gave it a loving tug. Nine inches. Jesus. Who would have thought? It was like a dangerous weapon. Too bad Nate always seemed to be one up on him, now at ten inches. Greg’s balls too hung low between his thighs, big and round and covered in dark, silky hair. Greg always went au natural these days. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back to down the hall to his dorm room. Although the dorm itself was co-ed, each floor was still segregated by sex. And Greg was aware of the envious glares of his fellow residents as he walked down the hall. Before he had started pledging, Greg would have taken all of his clothes with him down to the showers, and dressed there privately afterwards. Now he enjoyed showing off his body as he walked down the hall, like the other jocks on the floor did. Each Pi Epsilon Chi man played a sport. And Greg was thinking about wrestling. When he got back to his dorm room, he saw that he had a couple text messages waiting on his phone. The first was from the Pledgemaster. “Mr. O’Brien, your meeting tonight has been cancelled. You and your fellow pledges have a free night. Enjoy it. But remember, you represent the fraternity at all times. Do not disappoint! –Mr. Pledgemaster.” Greg was so shocked he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It was the first Friday night since he’d joined the fraternity that he didn’t have a meeting. However, even before pledging he hadn’t really been much of a party animal. What was he supposed to do? He checked the second message. It was from Matt: “Dude! I heard Nate repped 800 for 100 today. WTF? He’s gonna be ready before you! Drastic measures need to be taken my man! Meet me at the chem lab tomorrow at 09:00 you know the place – don’t tell ANYONE!” Greg was a bit surprised by Matt’s message. Greg pushed himself real hard. All the pledges did. But Nate was just ahead of the genetic curve. None of the other three pledges had gotten past seven hundred pounds for fifty reps. Although their gains were progressive. Greg was second only to Nate and he’d only reached seven hundred fifty pounds for fifty reps yesterday. Jerking off was not a problem though. Neither were the other tasks. It did seem possible that in just a short period of time Nate would fulfil all the physical requirements to become a brother. “Hey dude!” said Rich coming through the door. Greg saw Rich maybe once or twice a week nowadays, if that. They were pledging separate fraternities and that didn’t leave a lot of personal time. “Man, you are getting huge!” observed Rich with some awe. “What the fuck? What’s that bicep these days? Seventeen inches?” “Eighteen inches,” corrected Greg. He brought up his arm in front of Rich’s face. “Awesome,” said Rich. “It must be that formula right?” Greg choked. “How do you know about that?” “Well I didn’t until you just confirmed it,” said a smiling Rich. “All the Kappa guys know that you guys are juicing on something. I mean dude! There’s no way that you’re gonna gain fifty pounds of muscle in five weeks. It’s just not possible.” “Seventy pounds actually,” Greg corrected him. “Yeah, well, whatever,” dismissed Rich. “There’s still no way. Do you guys think the rest of the Greeks...hell, the rest of the school are oblivious? I mean more than ten pounds a week, for five weeks in a row? C’mon!” Greg realized for the first time that he was now taller than Rich. And quite a bit bigger. He flexed his chest involuntarily. He crossed his mighty arms over his chest. “Hell, man, don’t worry about it,” said Rich. He didn’t seem very intimidated, even if Greg outmuscled him by around fifty pounds. “I’m not worried about being one of the big men on campus. That shit will prolly make your dick drop off anyway.” “I doubt that”, said Greg as he let his towel drop. Rich tried to play it cool, but Greg saw his eyes widen as they involuntarily dropped down to Greg’s junk. He was as long and thick soft as most guys were hard. “Shit dude!” said Rich in awe. “I didn’t know you were that hung!” This was a true statement because Greg had never let Rich see him naked before. “No wonder those roids got you so big! Bet all the bitches love that thing!” “I don’t know,” said Greg truthfully. “I haven’t gotten laid since high school!” “Really?” asked Rich, dumbfounded. “Then you gotta come to the party tonight man! The Lambda Mu Chi girls are throwing a private party for us at our house tonight. I can invite anyone I want. I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come anyway, but now I gotta get you over there. Dude, those chicks will go crazy for a dick like that. You’ll have to fight ‘em off you.” This wasn’t how Greg had wanted to spend his first free night in weeks, but it occurred to him that he was pledging a fraternity and had absolutely never been to a frat party in his life. Didn’t he deserve a break? And he’d known Rich all year. The guy was a little wild, but basically all right. And maybe he could break this losing streak he’d been on and get lucky. So after confirming that his pledge brothers had plans of their own, he pulled on one of his older and slightly tighter pink polo shirts and followed Rich up to the Kappa Mu Alpha house for a good time. * * * “Whoa! Big dude!” said the Kappa brother as he let Rich and Greg into the house. “You’re a Pi Epsilon Chi pledge aren’t you?” Greg smiled and nodded. “Well welcome, mate,” the guy told him. “I’m Hank. Rich, grab the man a beer.” “Yes, Sir!” said Rich. “This is a pretty special night,” continued Hank. “We don’t often get bros from your house at our parties, so it’s a doubly special night.” “Here you go.” Rich handed Greg his beer. “Enjoy yourself,” Hank instructed him, as he walked away to greet some other guests. “That’s our chapter president,” Rich told him. “So what’s so special about tonight?” enquired Greg. “Well, I don’t know for certain,” said Rich conspiratorially, or at least as conspiratorially as possible over the rumbling bass of the speakers. “Rumour has it that tonight’s the night the Lambda pledges cross over. But the way I heard it each one needs to fuck a guy before they can become full sisters. With proof of the dirty deed!? Greg glanced at him. “With odds like that you are bound to get laid!” enthused Rich. “I mean there’s twenty Lambda pledges this semester and only ten Kappa pledges, so you do the math. I figure that’s why each of us pledges got to invite a friend.” Greg grinned at him. It had been a while and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. He’d been over at the Pi Epsilon Chi house for so long now, with all those swinging dicks, that he’d almost forgotten that he liked girls. Surveying all the very lovely ladies in the room, he just had the feeling that it was going to be a very good night. * * * “Hey, Polo Guy!” Greg heard the chirpy voice next to him and looked down at the speaker. A Lambda pledge stood next to him, smiling up expectantly. He figured she was about five feet, five inches, but Greg now towered over her. He knew she was a pledge because her hair was up in pig tails and she was wearing tight, white shorts and a tight pink t-shirt that read: Hot Tits. All twenty of the sorority pledges had arrived about an hour ago, wearing a lot of make-up, their cheeks dusky with blush. The words that came to Greg’s mind were cheap and easy. Her pink t-shirt was very low cut, and from Greg’s birds-eye vantage point he could see straight down her cleavage. She wasn’t wearing a bra either. Greg felt himself get a little hard as he imagined his face buried in those tits. In the midst of his reverie she handed him a beer. “This is from that guy over there,” she pointed. Greg looked up to see Hank talking to some of his frat brothers. Hank saw him and saluted him with his own beer bottle. Greg returned the gesture. “He said that I was yours for the night.” “Mine?” asked Greg. “Yeah,” she said seductively. “He said I was supposed to make you feel like a man. And....” she paused to giggle, “Fuck you like my ass was on fire.” Greg looked a little blank. “You do want to fuck me, don’t you?” she said looking a tad concerned. “Of course,” sputtered Greg. “But only if you want to fuck me. Not just to become a sister or something.” “Well I do want to become a sister,” she replied thoughtfully. “And I am going to fuck someone here. I asked that guy if I could fuck you, and he said yes. So it might as well be you.” Greg thought that was as good a reason as any. And he was willing. He chugged back his beer. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs to one of the rooms in the house. It was empty, but it was clearly someone’s room. Posters of half naked women and Quentin Tarantino films adorned the walls. “Besides,” she said, as she shut the door, “I have kind of a thing for bodybuilders, and you are a pretty big guy. Would you flex your arm for me?” “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” said Greg. “Why not?” “Because if I do I might tear my shirt.” “Oh, please!” she begged him. “Please, please, please with sugar on top. If you do I’ll let you fuck me six ways from Sunday in every hole.” Greg’s rod got so hard instantly that he had an obvious tent in the front of his jeans. He brought his arm up. “Ready?” he asked her. Her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly. Greg flexed his arm and the polo that was already taut against his bicep began to give way as the mound of his massive gun rose up in the air. Within seconds his bicep had hulked out splitting the arm of his polo all the way to his shoulder. “Oh fuck!” she cried. “Shit,” Greg informed her. “That’s nothing. If you like that watch this.” He brought his other arm up and, just like the other, it split along the seam. Greg wasn’t even flexing hard. He changed his pose to a most muscular and began to flex his muscles. This shirt was getting too small for him anyways. As he flexed he felt his already powerful muscles engorge with blood and get pumped. Soon he felt the strain in the shirt fabric as his muscle bulged too big to be contained by the cotton. Within seconds the tears began and shirt spit from its open neck down his waist. With a roar he ripped off the remains of the shirt, and flexed hard for her, then swept his arms up. “Oh fuck!” she hollered jumping into his embrace with a running leap. Greg swept the girl up in his arms and lay back on the bed, pulling her down with him, and kissing her. She sat up for a minute, her sexy bottom resting on Greg’s abs, as she pulled her shirt over her head. Her tits spilled out and he reached his meaty fist up to feel one as he flexed his abdominals. The girl felt the undulation in her clit as his abdominals rippled on his narrow waist. “Oh my god,” she said, her hands moving to rub his pecs. “Your muscles are so hard, even when they’re not even flexed.” The girl kissed him, then moved her mouth to his chest and bit on his nipple. She reached around to feel the outline of Greg’s tool in his jeans. “And your cock is so big.” “Do you like what you feel?” “I love what I feel.” "Ready to get naked?" he asked, picking her up like a doll and setting her on the bed. The girl nodded and pulled down her shorts. There was a damp spot in her panties that Greg couldn’t ignore. Greg reached down and undid his jeans and pulled down his pants and boxers. He put on one of the condoms he was required to carry with him at all times, and picked the girl up again like she weighed nothing. “Damn, that thing sure is big!” she moaned. She felt his big cock rub against her body, and she pressed her wet pussy against him. “Fuck me hard stud!” she told him. Greg sank inch after powerful inch into her body, and he felt like THE MAN. Like there was no finer specimen of masculinity on earth. And he was getting laid! “I’m just getting started....” he told her. And that was the truth. * * * Three hours later, Hank was still continuing to listen to the noises coming from the ceiling above him as the sounds and vibrations of Greg’s lovemaking permeated through the house. “I thought you put tranquilizers in those beers you gave him?” asked Hank “I did,” said Rich. “They could’ve knocked out a fucking rhinoceros!” “So why is that god damn Pi Epsilon Chi pledge still fucking Lambda pussy in my house!” Rich could see that Hank was pissed. But he didn’t have an answer, so he figured it was best to keep quiet. Just then, rather miraculously, the noises stopped. Hank and Rich raced upstairs and opened the door. Greg was passed out and the girl was still sitting on his dick. “I didn’t kill him,” she said, half hysterically. “He just passed out!” “That’s okay love,” said Hank, his excitement growing. “Get your ass out of here!” “NOW!” he shouted when she didn’t move fast enough. She scrambled off Greg’s dick, grabbed her clothes and raced out the door. Hank checked Greg, but he appeared to be out cold. His dick was still rock hard, pointing straight up. “Holy fuck,” breathed Hank, staring at it. “That’s amazing.” He turned to Rich. “Go get the Doctor. Tell him to get his ass in here now!” Rich raced out and after a few minutes came back with one of the guys from the house. “Shit dude,” said the new guy angrily. “I was banging my chick, what is so urgent...whoa! Is that a Pi Epsilon Chi brother?” “Even better! It’s a pledge!” said Hank excitedly. “That’s right dude, this is the one we’ve been waiting for.” “Excellent,” said the Doctor, grinning madly. “We just need to draw some blood.” Read the Next Part
  18. Shade

    Fraternity Muscle: Part 4

    Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Growing As he walked into the frat house he set his backpack on the floor near the door. He noticed that Nate’s and Harry’s packs were there also, next to their clothes. They’d be in the gym for their required workouts, and that was where Greg was bound as well. He stripped off his shirt and stepped out of his jeans, leaving them and the remainder of his clothes there as well. At first he had been embarrassed by his nakedness, but the guys in the house didn’t seem to mind. And quite often they were naked too. Or at least they spent most of the time without their shirts on. After the first week everything seemed quite natural. Just as Greg had been about to head into the kitchen to go downstairs, Ty walked through the door, stuffing his face with a sandwich packed with meat, cheese and anything else that Ty could pull out of the fridge. Ty gave Greg’s naked body an appraising glance. “Good, afternoon, Mr. Doorkeeper, Sir,” said Greg, a touch methodically. Ty swallowed the bite of food that he’d been masticating. “How’s the training coming Mr. O’Brien?” queried Ty. “When are you gonna cross over and become one of us?” “Soon I hope, Sir,” said Greg. “Make a muscle then,” said Ty. “Show me what you got.” Greg knew better than to hesitate or question the request of one of the brothers. To do so was to invite pain in their next pledge meeting. The Pledgemaster was not generous when it came to disobeying the wish of a full brother of the fraternity. He would find an unpleasant task for Greg and his pledge brothers to undertake as punishment. And Ty was the kind of brother who liked to keep score. So Greg raised his arm. He had nothing to be ashamed of anyway as a round, full sixteen inch bicep mounded on his arm. “Hmmm,” said Ty considering. “How much weight you curling?” “100 for reps. Each arm.” Ty put his arm up next to Greg’s. And Greg watched as it rapidly eclipsed his own bicep. Greg felt his own boner rise in time with the peak of Ty’s massive arm. “I warm up with five times that,” said Ty casually. “Your pledge class has to be one of the slowest on record for finishing your pledge process. At this rate we’ll be lucky if you finish before the end of next term.” Then he laughed as he left Greg standing there red-faced. “Better take care of that boner,” continued Ty chuckling, as he took the rest of his uneaten sandwich upstairs. On the whole Greg really liked his pledge brothers and the guys in the frat. They were tough to get to know at first, but he really started to feel like he was fitting in. But Ty was another matter. He was always unfailingly polite to Greg, but it was like he had it out for him. Greg never got away with anything. And as much as he tried to avoid him, Ty always seemed to be there, waiting for him to fuck up. Greg went into a small vanity bathroom off the main hallway to jerk his rod off. He was so horny these days that he was jerking off ten or eleven times a day. A stiff wind would give him wood. The pledges were teased unmercifully about it, but that too, like the saga of their nudity, had become routine. It was a common sight that at least one pledge at any given time was sporting a boner. It was hard not to when you were in the company of fifteen super muscular freaks all the time. And Ty and Matt were two of the biggest. Not to mention the changes occurring in their own bodies. Well, as much as he felt he could go again just thinking about it, Greg still had his workout to complete. He went downstairs to the gym. Like always when he entered the gym, he caught his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors that covered every inch of wall space around the room. As he suspected, Nate and Harry were at the beginning of their workouts, and Nate was spotting Harry as he attempted to bench what looked like a truly heavy amount of weight. He was benching about four hundred pounds. It was really quite spectacular, considering how small Harry Little had been when he’d started. And he was pumping out rep after rep. Four weeks ago, Harry Little had weighed about a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. He’d gained seventy pounds of muscle in as much time, making him by far the biggest gainer of the five pledges. Where his chest had been concave and his arms had been like sticks, now he had the body of a powerful young bodybuilder. Evidenced as the pectoral muscles of his chest mounded and flexed as he repeatedly pressed the bar above his body. Greg had another boner by that point. But so did Nate and Harry. Greg went over to the cabinet and administered his shot, as Matt had taught him to do. As soon as the liquid hit his bloodstream Greg began to full the surge of power and knew that he needed to lift. He was determined to cross over into this fraternity as quickly as possible. Harry was just finishing up his set. “C’mon man,” encouraged Nate. “Just one more. Don’t give up.” Harry was struggling under the weight, but managed to pump out one more. He racked the bar and stood up flexing into a most muscular pose. “Fuck yeah!” hollered Harry. “Look at me!” “Hey man,” said Greg. “Check this shit out.” Greg had been working real hard. And he thought it might be time to show the other guys what he could do. He put an extra hundred pounds on the bar, and prepared for his best ever bench press. “No way man,” said Harry. “Nobody’s gotten past four fifty for reps dude.” Greg smirked cockily. “Watch me!” Greg got under the bar and tentatively lifted the weight up, getting the feel of it. Although he was struggling a bit he had the bar under control. Slowly he lowered the massive weight to his chest and then began to raise it again. He repeated this motion for a total of five times unassisted, even though the last rep was clearly an effort, and then put the weight back on the bench. “Now that’s power dude!” Greg stated enthusiastically. “Look at these fucking pecs!” His most muscular was most awesome. So was his side chest pose. He was pumped beyond belief. In four weeks, Greg had quickly gone from being an ordinary college student – second smallest in the pledge class to running neck and neck with Nate. Greg had put on fifty pounds of muscle, and watched as his body had become a powerful, ripped machine. While Greg and Nate hadn’t gained as much muscle as Harry, their strength gains were incredible. Greg realized that he’d been so busy over the last four weeks that he hadn’t really had the opportunity to enjoy his new body. He looked at himself in the mirror and realized that he didn’t recognize himself at all. The face that stared back at him had shed all the roundness of youth and had moulded itself into the strong jaw line of a man. A light dusting of stubble coloured his cheeks, but it only added to the look of raw masculinity and highlighted the new cocky twinkle in his eyes. His neck had thickened to the size of his head. And even in this pose the corded muscle stood out with the effort of holding the pose. His chest was terrific. It was like a young bodybuilder’s. And it bunched and flexed as he posed, his biceps engorged and big and round like baseballs. The ridges of a ten pack forming at his stomach, and thickening legs like young saplings. In front of him the raging purple head of his dick rose up proudly gaining about three inches, looking like a pornstar’s equipment. “That’s awesome dude,” said Nate warmly, coming to stand next to him. He too bent into a crab pose. Greg hadn’t been too sure about Nate at first. He was an athletic jock. And the formula had augmented that body. He had gained only thirty pounds of muscle, but he was still ahead of the curve. Achingly, as Greg compared their bodies, he knew that Nate was still ahead of all his pledge brothers. It seemed that Nate’s power had come in massive strength gains, although he was gaining muscle as well. Nate had always been able to out lift the others. And even without a pump he looked more massive than Greg. Nate smiled at his pledge brothers, walked over to the bench and lay down under the bar. “Fuck!” exclaimed Harry. Nate lifted the weight with more confidence than Greg had and began repping it. He was soon past Greg’s five and managed to crank out another fifteen for an even twenty. “Looks like one of you guys may give me a run for my money after all,” said Nate, grinning. "Although that felt kinda light." Nate was genuinely a nice guy. And he got along well with these other four guys he had been thrown into the deep end with. Now that they were all jocks, his respect for them and theirs for him had only deepened. And the constant barrage they received from the active brothers had forced them into a tight cohesive unit. They now looked out for one another everywhere they went. They were becoming friends, and the bonds of fraternal brotherhood were cementing themselves. But that didn’t mean they weren’t competitive. And Nate was very competitive. Greg felt a pang of healthy jealousy wash over him. “But I don’t think anyone is gonna beat me for the big dick contest,” Nate continued laughing, and he emphasized this statement by stroking his iron hard rod. “Fuck!” said Harry again, sounding a bit dumbfounded. “How big is that thing these days?” “Nine fucking inches,” said Nate. “My girlfriend is loving it.” Nate was the only one of the pledge class who had a girlfriend. He was also the only one of the pledge class who had any real success in that area. Greg wasn’t a virgin. He’d had sex with a girl in high school, but it had been an awkward, fumbling kind of affair and there had been no opportunity for a repeat performance. Since that time Greg had been too shy to approach girls. And he hadn’t exactly had the kind of body that drew the female attention he wanted. Hell, even his roommate Rich got pussy. Which was probably why Rich had been invited to pledge the party frat, Kappa Mu Alpha. Although he and Rich hadn’t seen each other in weeks, except in passing. Being pledges, their time was monopolized elsewhere. “Although,” continued Nate, “I’ve been so horny that I use my three condoms every fucking day. I have to keep buying more in case one of the brothers checks to make sure I always have them on me.” Greg was starting to feel really horny and began wanking off in time to Nate. “What prize does the winner get?” he asked. “Maybe he gets to fuck Mr. Pledgemaster, Sir,” joked Harry. “Yeah,” said Nate. “He’s such a tight ass. He was probably toilet trained at gunpoint or something.” They all laughed at Nate’s joke. But they were all getting into their circle jerk. Each of the men concentrating hard on his dick. “Fuck, Nate,” groaned Greg. “You’re gonna win that contest easy.” He was watching Nate pull on his dick and he was in ecstasy. Nate watched him as well, and there was something in Nate’s eyes as they roamed Greg’s body. “Don’t bet on it,” said Harry, who had closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “I’m six and half inches and still growing.” Harry began to stroke his chest with his free hand, and he was cumming. Greg followed shortly thereafter, and finally Nate. “Oh yeah!” Nate roared. “It’s time to grow!” Read the Next Part
  19. Shade

    Fraternity Muscle: Part 3

    Part 1, Part 2 The New Pledge When Greg had finally got home around 6:00 in the morning, he was exhausted. Despite the Pledgemaster’s suggestion that the pledges wouldn’t be kept there long after the measuring ceremony, Greg had found himself cleaning the toilets of the frat house all night, while learning the Greek alphabet. He was just thankful that today was Saturday and that he’d had the foresight to do a lot of his homework earlier that Friday afternoon before heading out to the frat house. Greg had never been much of a partier on a Friday night anyway. But he only had the opportunity for a couple hours of rest before he had to be back at the house for his first workout with Matt. He just remembered to set his alarm, and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He didn’t bother to take off the polo shirt or pants. He thought he was being tortured when the alarm went off. But he managed to drag himself out of bed. He didn’t bother with a shower, but he did remember to put on some fresh deodorant, and headed off back to the frat house. Fraternity Row early on a Saturday morning gave the impression of a ghost town. The Greeks at the University lived in a different time zone on the weekends: Breakfast at noon, Lunch at 5:00pm and Dinner at 10:00pm. When he got to the end of the street he saw the Pi Epsilon Chi House in front of him and Matt was sitting on the steps of the porch. “Hey dude,” said Matt. He checked his watch. “I’ve been waiting for you. You’re late.” “Sorry,” replied Greg. Matt regarded him sternly, and Greg felt his cheeks flush red with embarrassment. “Sorry, Sir!” “It’s okay this one time,” replied Matt, suddenly breaking into a smile. “Here,” he said tossing Greg a large plastic bottle. “I figured that you didn’t have time for breakfast, which is just as well. You’re gonna drink one of these energy drinks three times a day from now on. C’mon let’s go inside and get started.” Greg obediently followed Matt in through the front door as they headed down to the gym. He was surprised as he walked straight into Matt’s broad back. It was like hitting a brick wall. If Matt minded, he didn’t let on, as he paused and turned towards Greg. “Dude you better get naked real fast. Ty’s around, and if he catches you in the house with your clothes on, not even I will be able to save your sorry ass at the meeting tonight.” Greg’s early shade of red deepened when he realized how quickly he’d forgotten one of the primary rules of the pledge process he’d been told last night. That and the fact he had to get naked in front of Matt. Again. Would the shame of this never end? “Yeah,” continued Matt as he watched Greg take off his clothes. “Between you and me and the lamp post, Ty’s a bit of a faggot. Oh, he bangs his fair share of pussy, but he just seems to like dick too much. Probably comes from being a football player. Too much ass grabbing and all that.” Matt winked at him. “C’mon!” They stopped in the kitchen, and Matt encouraged Greg to finish his drink, while he instructed him where to find the powder to make more of them. The energy drink had a creamy taste, kind of like vanilla, and the consistency was thick like a milkshake. It came in a large unmarked can. When they’d finished Matt took Greg downstairs to the gym. “Before we begin I wanted to show you something.” He handed Greg a picture. “Who’s this?” asked Greg. In the picture there was a skinny kid. In some ways the kid reminded Greg a bit of his new pledge brother Henry Little. “That’s me,” said Matt. “Taken on the last week of summer vacation before my sophomore year here at college.” “What?” said Greg incredulously. “Dude you mean after your sophomore year in high school, right?” “Nope,” confirmed Matt. “I was pretty much a hundred pound weakling until a year ago.” “But, how....?” stammered Greg dumbfounded. “I pledged Pi Epsilon Chi. It changed my life. And it will change yours. If you do what I tell you.” Matt slowly stripped off his polo shirt. Greg knew of course that Matt was a big, built guy. That was obvious just from looking. But he’d never before seen him before without his shirt on. As the polo was peeled away from Matt’s bronzed skin, Greg saw the diamond hard cut of ten thick abdominal bricks protruding from an impossibly narrow waist. His oblique muscles were sharply defined, and his lats flared as his arms pulled the fabric over his head. When he brought his hands back down, shirt now in hand, Matt’s pectorals settled into an unflexed position, two mammoth cut shelves of rock hard muscle. His chest was covered with a fine dusting of hair. His stance shifted slightly as Matt straightened his shoulders. His neck was thicker than his head and traps rested on the top of that frame, which had the most unbelievably wide set of shoulders. Like an ox. His delts were like bowling balls, and his biceps and triceps thick as a watermelon. A really, really big watermelon. “Impressive isn’t it?” asked Matt rhetorically. “I was the biggest guy in my pledge class. And I’m still growing at a pretty good clip. I’ll probably pass Grieg soon and then I’ll be the biggest mother fucker at this school. We each do a sport you know. It’s part of our commitment to the school. I’m on the wrestling team with Sherman. We gotta dumb down our strength though, just to be fair.” Greg realized that his boner was giving him away. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Or hide it. “Don’t worry about having wood, dude,” Matt told him aware of where Greg’s attention had gone. “Around here you get used to it. Just jerk off whenever you need to. In fact....” Matt undid his belt buckle and his loosened khaki pants fell to his ankles. His legs were thick and corded with muscle. And the absence of pants left Matt standing there in a pair of black underwear that tried futilely to cover both his huge, round ass and his massively protruding package. Before Greg could say anything else, Matt managed to peel down his underwear as well, although not being loose like the khakis they didn’t go any further south than his monstrous thighs. The cock and balls that hung proudly against his leg easily put Nate’s to shame. It looked as long and thick flaccid as most porn stars did erect. Matt reached down and pumped his cock in his fist. His two balls hung there massively underneath, enclosed in Matt’s hairy sack. “Hope you don’t mind,” Matt said. “But I didn’t get to fuck Julie last night for obvious reasons. And it’s just us guys right?” Matt winked at him again in that strange way he had. It made Greg go weak in the knees. “Sometimes you just gotta shoot a load,” grinned Matt. “You know what I mean? Don’t be embarrassed dude. You’re gonna be a Greek now, and not just any Greek, but a Pi Epsilon Chi man. We live too closely together to be shy.” Matt’s cock was starting to firm up in his meaty fist. “Greg, man, we don’t have all day,” said Matt. Greg grabbed his much smaller dick and began to frantically jerk it off. His eyes were transfixed on Matt’s groin. “How big is it?” Greg asked breathless, forgetting all thoughts of women in Matt’s presence. “It’s about 11 inches,” replied Matt smugly. “Ty’s is a little bigger, but just barely. And he’s not growing anymore.” Greg didn’t have any idea about what Matt was talking about, but it was clear to him that Matt was starting to get off on himself. He began grunting and groaning as his fist pumped the giant spear sticking out from his body. Matt seemed so much bigger than Greg ever remembered. All those muscles flexed and bunched as the pressure began to build in his balls. His other hand groped the slabs of meat that made up his two pectoral muscles and his abs, before reaching down to massage those two grapefruits that were his testicles. Suddenly Matt gave a mighty roar and grabbed his cock with both ends, and there was still a few inches poking out at the end that his two colossal fists didn’t cover. “Fuck!” he shouted as white liquid in copious amounts sprayed out of the end of his dick like water from a fireman’s hose. Greg was so turned on by the thought that his own dick erupted, spurting a good few inches in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so well jerking off. “Nice shot dude!” Matt said, with a hint of pride in his voice, as his stream of cum slowed down. Finally he shook of his dick as the last couple spurts made their way out. “I always say there’s nothing like a pussy, but sometimes you just need to make friends with your own right hand.” Greg grinned sheepishly. It was strange that Matt should take pride in him. He wasn’t a virgin after all. But he’d spent a lot of time with Matt last semester, although Matt had been a bit smaller in those days. Suddenly it occurred to Greg just how much bigger Matt had gotten over this past summer. He had to be at least fifty pounds heavier. “Now, dude,” said Matt soberly, as he pulled his underwear back over his junk. There wasn’t quite enough fabric to cover the large, muscular curve of his glutes, and the crack of his ass was sexily visible to Greg as Matt turned to walk over to a cupboard against the wall on the far side of the gym. Matt had kicked off his pants and took out a large pair of workout shorts. With his back turned he stepped into the shorts and pulled them up. Despite being so large, there wasn’t a lot of extra room in the shorts once they covered Matt’s ass. Greg didn’t think they would have fit at all if it hadn’t been for the fact that Matt had such narrow hips. How did that massive torso balance on that tiny waist? “You know I wouldn’t hurt you right?” queried Matt as he continued speaking. Greg nodded. And Matt reached into the cupboard and took out a box. “If you’re gonna be a Pi Epsilon Chi brother, you are gonna need all the help you can get. And that’s what these are for.” Matt opened the lid of the box and showed the contents to Greg. Inside were fourteen pre-filled syringes. Seven were filled with a dark, emerald green fluid. It shone magically in the lighting of the gym. The others were filled with an amber coloured fluid. A shade darker than honey. “We call this stuff juice,” explained Matt. “But it’s not steroids okay? This stuff was developed a very long time ago by one of our alumni brothers. It’s been refined over the years. This is powerful stuff, but it’s been taken by our brothers for years with no side effects.” “What if I don’t want to take it?” asked Greg sheepishly. “Then you’ll never be a brother of this fraternity,” stated Matt. “This is the only stuff on earth at this moment that will make you strong enough to bench 1000 pounds.” Greg looked keenly at the syringes. “This and the energy drink I gave you this morning,” said Matt. “But remember, this is between you and your pledge brothers. No one must ever know about this stuff. We only get enough for each of our pledges for a week at a time.” “And if I take them,” asked Greg, “I’ll get big like you? I’ll have muscles?” “Remember the picture man,” Matt reminded him. “Remember what I looked like a year ago.” Greg did remember as he considered the skinny nineteen year old teenager in the photo who in a few months time had become the powerful frat boy who had been partnered with Greg last semester. And it didn’t seem to affect the mind, because he knew that Matt was a smart guy. Very smart indeed. “Okay,” agreed Greg after a pause. “Excellent!” exclaimed Matt. “Now let me show you how to take these shots and how to do your workouts. We only have a couple hours before it’s the next pledge’s turn, so we need to make the most of it. Oh, and don’t forget to clean up that cum.” * * * If Greg thought he was tired after the night before, he was totally wiped out by the time he’d finished his workout with Matt. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Matt hadn’t let up, despite the fact that Greg had never worked out with weights a day in his life. He knew what he was doing now. Matt had made sure of it. He went home to catch some shut eye. Tonight he had another meeting and there were pledge assignments that needed to be taken care of. When he walked in the dorm room ready to fall over on the bed, he was surprised to be greeted by a smirk from his roommate. “Guess who just been asked to pledge Kappa Mu Alpha?” Rich asked him. “Now we’re both gonna be Greeks.” Read the Next Part
  20. Shade

    Fraternity Muscle: Part 2

    Part 1 First Night Greg passed a lot of kids out on Fraternity Row that Friday night. It was a hot night in early fall and many of the frats and sororities already had pledge classes. He’d seen some of them being paraded around earlier in the day. And that night the sisters of Lambda Mu Chi and their affiliated brotherhood, the notorious party house Kappa Mu Alpha, were throwing a big party in their adjoining yards. You could hear the music all the way down at the other end of the street. Pretty much everyone was ignoring Greg, which was good. He knew the kinds of pranks that were played on pledges and he hoped to avoid attention for as long as he could. But a Pi Epsilon Chi man couldn’t avoid attracting attention for very long. Up ahead the Pi Epsilon Chi House loomed at the very furthest end of the street, its four stories appearing more sinister with all the lights off. Greg was starting to wonder if any of the brothers were actually home. He almost decided to turn back, but gritting his teeth he put one foot after the other until he’d climbed the stairs to the top of the porch. There were four other guys already standing there. Greg didn’t recognize any of them, but they were all dressed similarly to Greg in polo shirts and slacks, and they all had rather dazed looks on their faces. Greg knew that he’d see the same look mirrored on his own face. Greg also couldn’t help noticing that the each of his fellow pledges didn’t seem to fit the Pi Epsilon Chi mould. The one guy to the far end looked like he weighed less than 100 pounds soaking wet. In fact he looked more like a high school freshman than a college kid. On the other hand the kid standing close to the door reminded him a bit of his roommate Rich. He had a cockiness to his bearing. From his general build and demeanour it was obvious that he played sports in high school. He was the only one that seemed even remotely like he belonged there. Suddenly the door opened, and even the cocky kid jumped like he’d shit his pants. Tyler Dickson, the starting quarterback of the school’s championship football team, stood framed in the doorway. He barely fit the doorway and it was a big door. There was no student more famous or instantly recognizable on campus than this man. Like the pledges, the QB wore a polo shirt and slacks. But unlike the pledges, the polo shirt Tyler was wearing looked like it had been painted onto his body. Greg could see his abdominal muscles rippling through the cotton that was stretched taut over his torso with each breath the man took. “Hey,” said Tyler, in a surprisingly soft, yet deeply masculine, drawl. “Y’all must be the new pledges. Why don’t the five of you come in and we’ll get the show on the road.” None of the pledges came up past the QB’s shoulder. But as he moved aside, waiting expectantly, they all shuffled inside to stand in the foyer of the frat house. It was a nice place. There was a certain bachelor quality, and of course the decor was decidedly masculine, but it was all in surprisingly good taste. And clean too. “I have a few instructions for you before we go any further,” said Tyler. “First off, I am the Doorkeeper. When you address yourselves to me or wish to refer to me when speaking to another Pi Epsilon Chi brother, you will use that title only. However, you will never ever use that title in front of any person who is not a Pi Epsilon Chi brother or a pledge. Secondly, you are not brothers of Pi Epsilon Chi. Remember that. You are pledges. Until such time as your circumstances change, if ever, you will call me and every other brother ‘Sir’. Is that understood?” “Yes,” came a few muttered voices. The cocky kid was in awe and said nothing. Tyler continued to look at the pledges expectantly. So finally Greg said, “Yes, Mr. Doorkeeper, Sir!” Tyler looked him over appraisingly an grinned. Then looked back at the others as the grin disappeared. They hastily repeated what Greg had said. “Gentlemen, we WILL haze you here,” Tyler told them. “Be of no doubt about that. I know the campus rules prohibit it, but we do what we want. I promise you that nothing that happens to you as part of this pledge process will be harmful. But it may at times be embarrassing and difficult to take. Even so, no pledge in the history of this fraternity has ever failed his pledge process. If any of y’all got a problem with what I just said, I’ll show your pansy ass to the door right now. But hopefully y’all aren’t a bunch of pussies.” Greg resisted the urge to go running to the door. But he did give it a glance. And he noticed that Tyler saw where his gaze had gone to. “Okay then gentlemen,” Tyler said finally. “Take off of your clothes and you’ll be taken for your induction.” The pledges all looked at each other, but nobody made a move to comply. “What the fuck?” demanded Tyler suddenly angry. Gone was the soft spoken Alabama boy. In his place was a fearsome creature. The man who was used to dominating the football field. His hands tightened into fists the size of frozen turkeys and his handsome face darkened. The muscles of his neck corded, and his biceps strained his sleeves. “I SAID STRIP!!! GET YOUR DICKS OUT NOW!!!” It was like trying to outrun an avalanche. Greg’s blood turned to ice. The five pledges scrambled to get as naked as possible as quickly as possible. When they were through, five skinny guys stood there, their hands covering their junk, their balls withdrawn into their bodies in terror. “PUT YOUR HANDS AT YOUR SIDES!!! STAND UP STRAIGHT NOW MOTHER FUCKERS!!!” The pledges complied instantly. “Good,” Tyler went on, back to his calm voice, seeing how well he was being obeyed. “Very good. Y’all might not be as hopeless as I first thought. Never be ashamed of yourselves. Never be ashamed of being men. The polo shirt and slacks are the uniform that every Pi Epsilon Chi man wears. It’s our brand. But y’all haven’t earned the right to wear it yet. When you are in this house, unless outsiders are present, you will be as naked as the day you were born. Is that understood?” This time there was an immediate and resounding chorus of “Yes, Mr. Doorkeeper, Sir!” “All right then. Take a good look at your pledge brothers. They are gonna be your family. Not just during this pledge process, but for the rest of your lives. Go ahead take a look.” Greg did as he was told. Most of the guys were scrawny. One of the guys was actually quite pudgy and clearly very embarrassed about his weight condition. Greg was not quite the smallest guy in the room. That distinction was reserved for the kid he’d noticed earlier on the porch. But he did come in second. The cocky guy did have an athletic and toned body and, as Greg had no choice but to look, a very big dick. Even limp it was clear that erect it would be bigger than a lot of porn stars. No wonder he was so cocky. “That’s enough getting to know each other. Follow me!” The pledges turned to follow Tyler and, organizing themselves ad hoc in single file, followed him through what turned out to be some kind of dining room, a kitchen and finally to a door that led down a set of stairs to a basement. The carpeting on the stairs gave Greg the impression that the basement was finished off. Although all the lights were off there were candles lit throughout the house, giving it an odd glow, shadows flickering off the walls. When they went downstairs they could see that fourteen men were assembled waiting for them. Tyler took his place with the other Pi Epsilon Chi men, making the number a total of fifteen. Matt James stood there looking as sombre as the rest of the assembly. A smaller, densely muscled man that Greg recognized as Robert Pembroke stepped forward. He wasn’t as big as some of the other guys, but he had a powerful presence and the other men deferred to him. Greg recalled that Robert, or Bobby as he was more usually called in the media, was the son of a United States Senator. And rumour had it that he was dating an aspiring actress whose first feature film was going to be released next summer. But, more interestingly, it was known around campus though that Bobby didn’t make any use of his connection with his father. Rumour had it they never even spoke to one another. Bobby Pembroke had worked very hard to build his own reputation and make his own successes. Perhaps he would go on to law school at Harvard or Yale. Perhaps he had his own very bright future in politics ahead of him. He was so very different from Tyler, who had come from nothing. Now Tyler was widely expected next year to be one of the hottest draft picks of the NFL. With his accuracy and skill, not to mention physique and physical prowess, Tyler Dickson could be another Joe Montana or Tom Brady. Easy. Greg knew instinctively that it was this fraternity that had both given them the opportunity, not their backgrounds. “Stand in a line gentlemen,” said Bobby, waiting until the pledges complied perfectly. “You are here because you have been invited. But you are also here because you want to be part of a fine tradition. A tradition of service and excellence. A proud tradition, including politicians, athletes, actors, writers, fathers, husbands, sons and brothers. We embrace all backgrounds, races, creeds and professions.” Greg looked at some of the other faces. They all had similar builds. Some of the guys were larger than others, but each man had a body that put mere mortal men to shame, with physiques ranging from merely well muscled to super-heavyweight bodybuilders. Most of the faces Greg didn’t recognize immediately. Some, like Tyler, he didn’t even know were in Pi Epsilon Chi. But there were others like Duncan MacNeill who was editor in chief of the college newspaper, and Brendon Thomas the star sprinter on the track team that everyone knew were part of the frat. “I am the President of this fraternity. You will refer to me by that title at all times, inside and outside of this house, no matter who you are with. Is that understood?” We all said “Yes, Sir!” “Each of you will, one at a time, repeat after me the vow of a pledge of Pi Epsilon Chi. You first Mr. Cook.” He moved to stand in front of the well endowed, cocky kid who was at the end of the line having been the first to follow Tyler earlier. “I, Nathaniel Cook, do willingly vow for all time to be a true and faithful pledge of Pi Epsilon Chi. To uphold its values. To abstain from smoking, drugs or alcohol while a pledge. To obey every desire of a brother of the fraternity. And to complete all tasks set for me for my admission as a brother of Pi Epsilon Chi.” Nate repeated the vow solemnly. Then Bobby went to each of the pledges in turn: Ivan Roberts, Greg O’Brien, Henry Little, and Davis Norton. Davis Norton was the name of the overweight kid, and not to disappoint, Henry Little lived up to his name as the shortest and scrawniest runt of the pledge class. “It’s time for you to meet your Pledgemaster. Mr. Pledgemaster if you please.” “Thank you Mr. President.” A fair haired Viking walked forward from the line. His shoulders were broader than those of a bull. His haircut was short, like he was in the service, and he carried himself with a certain poise. “My name is John Summers,” he told the assembly. “You may call me Pledgemaster whenever we aren’t in mixed company. I am in the ROTC. When I graduate in the spring I will be commissioned as an officer in the United States Marine Corps. But right here, right now I am yours and you are mine. This is your boot camp and you will not fail me. Before I go any further, let me explain what will happen. Each of your will be assigned a big brother to guide you through your pledge process. Firstly, your measurements will be taken by your big brothers. While they are doing that I will explain what you need to do to complete this process.” Five of the guys broke away and moved to stand behind each pledge. With heat rising in his face, Greg noticed that Matt had taken a position behind him. “Dude, hold your arms out,” Matt murmured. Greg realized that Matt had a measuring tape. “Flex your arm.” Greg did as he was told and Matt dutifully took the measurements. As he continued, whispering instructions to Greg, the Pledgemaster began to list off the requirements of joining the fraternity. “You will learn the ideals, values and history of this fraternity verbatim, and be able to recite them. You will learn the Greek Alphabet backwards and forwards and be able to recite it. You will each fulfil a desire of one of the ten active brothers, including myself. You will attend all your classes. You will maintain or exceed your last semester grade point average. You will report daily to your big brother and to me. You will keep three condoms on your person at all times. You will complete an exercise regimen set by your big brother. You will spend your free time here at the house, and make sure that it is clean at all times. You will be able to cum ten times in one hour. And finally you will bench press 1000 pounds for 100 reps.” Greg looked up at the Pledgemaster in shock just as Matt said, “Okay good. One more measurement to go.” When Matt grabbed his dick, Greg realized he had sprung a rod. His face turned six shades of scarlet, and Greg couldn’t believe that Matt James was standing there with Greg’s boner in his hand. One of the other guys gave a rebel whoop. And the man standing behind Nate said, “What kind of faggot did you pick out for us, Matty? Look at how little that dick is!” This guy was the biggest of all the brothers. But not, noted Greg, that much bigger than Matt. “That will be enough Mr. Grieg,” said the Pledgemaster. Then addressing the pledges he told them, “Each of you better start yanking those little cocks of yours if you don’t want us to be here all night.” Matt slipped the measuring tape under Greg’s dick and took the measurement flawlessly. Greg already knew the figure by heart. He was five inches, dead even. Now all the guys would think he was gay. It was so unfair! The other guys were too stunned or shy to get theirs up. Nate Cook glanced down the line at Greg, but Greg noticed that Nate didn’t have a boner. “Perhaps some help?” suggested the Pledgemaster. The sleeves of his polo had bunched up past the mound of his biceps. He took his left arm and pulled the fabric down taught over the muscle. Like Matt’s shirt, the Pledgemaster’s strained noticeably though he wasn’t even flexed yet. When he brought his arm up, he did so very quickly and there was a tearing noise as the cotton fabric gave way before the force of the powerful ball of muscle that formed on his upper arm. It was absolutely enormous. All the guys had wood then. Even Nate Cook. “Looks like Mr. Cook has a pretty big head start for this pledge class’s big dick award,” said Duncan MacNeill. “Seven and a quarter inches,” said Grieg, Nate’s big brother, proudly. “Apparently he does,” said the Pledgemaster. “But we do have a long way to go yet.” “Excuse me Mr. Pledgemaster, Sir?” asked Nate. The men in the room looked incredulously at Nate, like they were amazed he had the temerity to speak without being spoken to. Greg knew he was. “Yes, Mr. Cook?” “You said that we would be able to cum ten times in one hour, and bench press 1000 pounds for 100 repetitions. But Sir, that’s just not possible. The world’s record bench press is only about 600.” The guys around the room laughed. “I assure you that cumming ten times will be no problem, but I do admit that you will need to work very hard to bench that amount of weight for that many repetitions. But it can be done.” “Forgive me Sir, but I don’t believe you.” Rather than the anger that Greg was expecting, the Pledgemaster raised his eyebrow in a move right out of Star Trek. “Follow me,” he said. The pledges followed the Pledgemaster through a door in the basement that went down a short corridor. The brothers followed behind them. Greg assumed judging by the layout of the house, the size of the basement and the direction they had travelled, that they were no longer under the main structure of the frat house anymore. The Pledgemaster opened the door to a beautifully equipped gym and turned on the lights. It was easily on par with anything in a professional gym. Hell, Olympic athletes probably didn’t have it so good. It was mostly free weights, but there were a few machines also. Greg had never seen machines like them though. The weights were a slightly strange silver colour, but otherwise looked the same as any weights that Greg had seen in other gyms. The weight bench was racked with eight plates already. The Pledgemaster went over to a weight rack and grabbed two more of the plates from the rack. Each was the size of a 45 pound plate, and each of the pledges made the assumption that was how much the plate weighed. “Each of these is 100 pounds,” the Pledgemaster told them. “Here. See for yourself.” He handed the plate to Nate, who immediately dropped it to the floor having expected it to weigh less. “No tricks here gentlemen.” The Pledgemaster then picked up the plate from in front of the stunned Nate and placed it on the ends of the bar. Then he put the spare on the other side. The bench then had ten plates on it, equal to just over 1000 pounds if the Pledgemaster was to be believed and you counted the weight of the bar itself. The Pledgemaster got underneath it and picked up the bar. Greg held his breath as he watched the big man pump out rep after rep, silently keeping count of the amount. The big man didn’t even slow when he hit fifty, he just kept going. Then he was at ninety eight...ninety nine...finally one hundred. Amazing. Blood had rushed to the Pledgemaster’s muscles, giving him an obscene pump. After a second of watching him stand up from the bench, Greg could hear the sounds, tiny at first, of the threads of his shirt giving way. The cotton fabric ripped, unable to contain the mass of the man within it. Shredding and falling away, the bare skin beneath expanded before Greg’s eyes, exposing young, raw, engorged muscle underneath. A chest thick and full and a valley the depth of a normal man’s hand ran between his pecs. “That’s just my warm up weight. You should see my regular workout.” Then after a pause he asked the five stunned faces, “So, does anyone have any other questions?” Read the Next Part
  21. Shade

    Fraternity Muscle: Part 1

    The Letter Greg wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t often that he was confused. But he certainly was after he’d read the letter. Sometime last night the letter had been shoved under the door of his dorm room. Clearly it had been addressed to Greg O’Brien. That was his name. When he opened it, he had been a bit shocked to read the following words: “Dear Mr. O’Brien, Congratulations! It gives me the greatest pleasure to inform you that after a rigorous selection process you have been elected to form a part of the Fall 2009 Pledge Class of the Pi Epsilon Chi Fraternity. As you may be aware, unlike other Greek organizations on campus, Pi Epsilon Chi does not rush freshman. We prefer to select our pledges from members of the student body who have distinguished themselves, shown great aptitude in their chosen fields, and aspire to excellence. It is our opinion that you possess all the traits we are looking for in one of our future brothers. And we hope that you are as excited about this opportunity as we are. If you accept our invitation to become a pledge of Pi Epsilon Chi, we ask that you show up tonight at midnight at the Pi Epsilon Chi House on Fraternity Row. Please wear a polo shirt and slacks. I must advise you that your acceptance to the fraternity is conditional upon your successful completion of the pledge process. While the pledge process can be rigorous, you would not have chosen to participate if we did not think you were equal to the task. We very much hope to see you tonight. Very truly yours, Robert Pembroke, President of Pi Epsilon Chi” Everyone knew the brothers of Pi Epsilon Chi. They were pretty hard to miss. If anyone had asked Greg to name the big men on campus, both literally and figuratively, he would have pointed out his window at the large, ornate Victorian home that sat on a hill at the end of the cul du sac that was Fraternity Row. If the street had ever had another name, it had long since been forgotten. Now all the houses on the street were owned by the various frats and sororities with enough money to purchase them. And that was pretty much every Greek organization at the University. Property values had gotten worse over the years, since no one wanted to live near the sometimes raucous houses. It had been said that they occasionally liked to party too hard. The University itself did not officially acknowledge Greek organizations, and had not done so since an incident during pledging that occurred ten years ago which had left a student in a coma. No one could prove anything, but everyone knew who was to blame: the men of Kappa Mu Alpha. Further, Fraternity Row was not part of the campus, and not subject to the University’s jurisdiction. Consequently the twenty Greek organizations still in existence at the University were free from the usual administrative regulations around pledging and the bid process. Greg knew of course that there was a lot of partying in Greek circles, with some of the organizations being more social and some more professional. Kappa Mu Alpha had the reputation as being THE place to party. But the Pi Epsilon Chi men threw some pretty high class affairs themselves, plus unlike many of the frats they performed numerous charitable activities for the community and the University. And Pi Epsilon Chi men had their pick of the hottest women at the University and off campus too. They were, quite simply, the best of the best. None of which helped explain why Greg O’Brien had been asked to join their ranks. Maybe it was a joke? Would he show up and find they’d be laughing at him? Or worse, maybe it was a mistake? That was the most reasonable explanation. It was a big campus and there was probably some other Greg O’Brien that should have received this letter. Maybe if Greg showed up tonight they’d be pissed off and maybe he’d even get his ass kicked for his troubles. Still, there was his name and dorm room number in the address line of the letter. What were the chances they’d got it wrong? Greg was still not convinced and decided the best thing to do was go get some breakfast and try to relax his mind. His roommate Rich was lying still face down on his bed snoring softly. Yeah, definitely better to think someplace else in peace. He left the letter lying on the desk. Greg made his way to the cafeteria across the quad, grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat down again. Greg didn’t have many friends. He was considering expanding his work into biochemistry and going for a career in medical research. He had big plans to go to grad school, maybe cure cancer. That sort of thing. Even if the Pi Epsilon Chi men were serious, did he have time for a social life? His grades were critical. And presumably a fraternity was a big commitment. He was just about to get up and go back to his dorm room when he saw Matt James nod and smile at him from across the cafeteria. Matt was sitting next to a stunning brunette. A woman far too hot for her own good. Greg didn’t think she’d be the type to be wasting any of her time on college guys, but Matt James was an exception. He was the only Pi Epsilon Chi brother that Greg had ever actually met in person. And that’s only because they were paired together as lab partners last semester in a chemistry course. Both were pre-med. Even though it had been an upper level class, Matt as a sophomore and Greg as a freshman had been waived in. Greg had been pleasantly surprised to realize that Matt was more than just a frat boy and a jock; he was also pretty damn smart. And nice too. And what a body. If the chick he was sitting with was hot, Matt was even hotter. He had the kind of face that was on the cover of magazines. His eyelashes long and dark. Lips full. Strong jaw line. Perfect hair. Tanned skin. His neck was corded and ropy with muscle and easily as thick as his head. Even thicker! All of which was moulded onto the broadest set of shoulders, the thickest chest, the narrowest waist and the most athletic ass and legs that Greg had ever seen in reality. The man had a phenomenal build. But his best feature, and it was very hard to pick just one, were his arms. Absolutely massive. Greg had never dreamt of anything so big. Even now, as the sexy brunette laughed at something Matt had said, unflexed they looked ready to burst the sleeves of his t-shirt. Greg realized he was getting an incredible boner staring at this man and was just thankful that it would be hidden by the loose material of the shorts he was wearing. And he wasn’t even gay. Fuck! Greg got up, turned and started walking hastily towards the exit. “Hey, dude! Wait up!” He heard Matt’s voice behind him. He’d gotten to know it pretty well when they were partnered up last year. He considered for a minute ignoring Matt. “Greg!” hollered that voice. Lord, Greg could listen to it all day long. And he’d stopped before he’d even realized it. He turned around hypnotically to see Matt slow down from a jog as he approached Greg. Watching his body move was like poetry in motion. Every move graceful. Almost elegant. “Man, I was calling you. Didn’t you hear me?” Matt smiled. Greg felt his knees weaken. “Uh...hey...Matt,” Greg managed to stammer. “Guess I was in another world.” “Hey, I understand,” Matt said agreeably. “You must be pretty psyched getting that letter. You are gonna come tonight, right?” “Uh, well....” Greg tried to say he hadn’t decided, but Matt was grinning at him. God, anything but the grin. He could not resist the grin. “You gotta come man,” Matt said, a touch of pleading in his voice. “I’m the one that sponsored you. Although I probably shouldn’t tell you that. But if you don’t come it’ll break my heart. Plus the other guys’ll bust my balls.” “Uh...okay....” Greg wanted to disappear into the floor. “Great!” Matt said excitedly. “Look, I gotta get back to Julie.” Matt indicated the hot girl he’d been sitting with. “Pretty soon you’ll get girls like that too. Pi Epsilon Chi men have their pick. Okay, see you tonight.” Yeah, right, thought Greg. Matt turned to walk back to Julie, the one with all the tits, and gave her a very deep kiss. Then he looked back one more time at Greg and winked again. Greg moved so fast, he practically ran from the cafeteria. When he got back to his dorm room he saw Rich looking over his acceptance letter. “Wow, man,” said Rich. “This is pretty awesome. I’d give my right nut to get into that frat. Hell, I’d give my left one too. You are going tonight right?” Rich stared at Greg with a hint of envy and expectation. Finally Greg nodded. He’d made up his mind just then. He was on a high. It wasn’t a mistake. And the best part was Matt had wanted him to be there. “Do you know where I can get a polo shirt?” he asked Rich. Read the Next Part
  22. Hey guys i started this story on the old board under iwnnabbig so reposting here, third part should be up in next few days. 5/7/13 Hmmmm, I never know how to start these diaries off, but I’ll give it a whirl…… Hi everyone my name is Leo, 18 and im what you would call a geek, most people my age would enjoy going out having a few drinks, watching football (soccer), spending time with partners or family, but not me, I spend the days when im not at college sitting on a grassy verge near Heathrows north runway with a camera, binoculars and pen and paper jotting down aircraft and there registrations, I know exciting huh!!! But that’s what this diary is not about, what this diary is about is something that until recently I didn’t really give a monkeys for, I had a flimsy interest in it due to my older brother Jack, here’s a pic. Jack is a midfielder for the local football team and as you can see has pretty nice body, that 6 pack man wow! There’s nothing geeky about this but I actually love my brothers body, compared to me he’s a beast haha, im probably 130 wringing wet, were jack is about 170 and ripped! That’s where my affinity with a nice body ended, I had no desire to join a gym, a place where juice heads prance and pose there disgustingly huge bodies, I was quite happy to look at jacks body, he knew I liked it too, as every time he came in from a match dripping in sweat and his top clung to his tight body or when he would take his top off I would go all silent and usually get caught staring! You’re probably reading this thinking eh, for a guy who hates the gym, he really loves his bro’s muscular body? Well that’s because jack isn’t what I think of as a gym juice head, he doesn’t juice for one and he doesn’t prance round and pose, if I could find a gym that contained people entirely like jack I would consider joining just to get that body, but they are very few and far between, jack uses his clubs gym but members of public cannot use it. But all that was to change when a) I had an interesting experience at college and what jack had to say when he came home from training, lets start with A. It was during break time at college, we were outside on the field, I was with my other geeky mates sat in a corner exchanging notes on planes when one of them, dave, decided it was too hot to be wearing our baggy clothes, non of us dared as we would get laughed at as we were so skinny, but he was like no im taking mine off, when he took his top off there was a collective gasp, dave was super buff, im talking proper beefy pecs, big arms, ripped abs, broad shoulders the works. Dave went on to tell us that he had been having problems at home and college so he joined the local gym got loads of tips and supplements and the rest he said was history and he wasn’t planning on getting any bigger, he told us where this gym was and thankfully it wasn’t a prancy posing gym it was a council owned facility, that got me thinking if dave, who had hated gyms more than me, could get over his hatred and join a gym then why couldn’t I, I went home that night convincing myself to join a gym, that leads nicely on to B. As usual jack came in from training, shirt stuck tightly on to his ripped body, he told me to come upstairs with him, we got to our room , again the shirt came off, silence ensued, he told me that the club were opening the gym to the public as of next week, jack knew that if pushed in the right way I would join a gym as he knew that I loved his body and wanted it, but jack got all serious saying I would have to give up my geeky hobby as building the perfect body takes dedication, effort and eating correctly, I then told him about Dave at school and how it had ignited a little flame inside me. Jack could see that I was really thinking about it but in his words ‘you need that one last push’ that would cement my agreement. As I said earlier jack was never a show off, but he told me to pass him my hand, with my hand in his he guided it toward his ripped 6 pack and started rubbing my hand up and down it, OMG it felt unreal it was awesome, jack told me imagine what it would be like to feel your own abs like that, he lifted my hand off then flexed his left bi, what compared to mine looked like a huge peak rose from jacks arm but was probably only around 15-16”, again my hand was clasped round it, imagine flexing that for the girls or boys bro he told me, man I can’t tell you how much of a rush that felt at the time my bro not only looked awesome but felt awesome too, as you can imagine that cemented my agreement to join jacks clubs gym and what made it even better was he said he would be my training partner. During all this I had to hide the fact I was nursing a full hard on in my pants, jack was my brother but during that moment of feeling his body he didn’t feel like my brother he felt like my boyfriend, before we started working out I had to tell him I was gay. When I came to telling him I just came straight out with it, jack told me that he sort of knew, the feeling of his sixpack and bicep was a test to see how willingly I would say yes and the wry smile I had on my face, jack told me he was proud and was looking forward to helping me get the body I dream of, his!!! So there you have it, the back story, I start the gym tomorrow and I will be keeping regular diary updates for you to keep track of my progress. Here goes!! 6/7/13 So day one of the gym and I wasn’t expecting the early start! Jack woke me up at 8am, the only thing stopping me from biting his head off was his lovely ripped body staring back at me. He told me to get used to it as it’ll be the norm on gym days, my usual breakfast would consist of a muffin or toast but that’s all wrong now, this morning I was treat to oats, eggs and a protein shake, eughhh! Jack went into a monologue about how protein helps in the muscle building department and the oats for the energy I’ll need in the gym, if im honest some of it was interesting but it was mostly dross to my ears. Anyway nutrition over with it was time for me to make my debut at a gym, as I said in my first entry jack would be my training partner to give me that little extra bit of motivation, we arrived at his clubs gym, it was only 9am but it was pretty busy, jack introduced me to some of the staff telling them I wanted to be like him, talk about slightly embarrassing brothers!!! Off to the changing rooms we went, jack had wanted me to wear a vest to workout in, but I flatly refused and stuck to my baggy t-shirt and joggers, jack opted for an eye pleasingly tight under armour tee and sweat shorts that caressed his bubble butt nicely, jack asked if I was ready to get started, I said yes but a little apprehensively, jack noticed and told me everything would be fine. When we got onto the gym floor my eyes were opened to the amount of equipment, machines and weights that were there, also the amount of other ‘jacks’ that were there, no one else could beat my jack but my my there were some stunners in there. Jack told me he was gonna show me something called compound exercises which consisted of exercises called squats, bench press, deadlifts and other exercises called pullups, shoulder press and some arm exercises. All of these words sounded alien to me but I trusted jack knew what he was going on about. First up was the squats, jack told me they are good leg builders, but also works your calves and works the core too, judging by jacks thick thighs I believed him! Jack did his set first to show me the stance and movement need to properly do the exercise, he put a staggering 70kg on the bar (well to me anyway!) and did what he described as “shitting in the woods”, after completing his set he took all the weight off and told me to try. The bar itself felt heavy enough, when I felt ready I began to squat, down and up I went 5 times, jack asked of that felt good, a little out of breath I nodded, he said my form looked good, jack then added two 5kg plates to the bar and told me I could do it and he’d be right behind me. I managed 5 again before I started to struggle, jack helped me put the bar back on the rack, he told me I had done good. Bench press was next, again jack went first to show me, he was benching 80kg but made it look so easy and light, my eyes and concentration were briefly distracted by his chest bulging in that tight tee, anyway when I snapped back into it he was just finishing his set, again he left me with an empty bar, I lied down on the bench grabbed the bar and with jack behind me for support benched for 6 reps, jack told me to stay lying down while he added some weight, he added only 5kg this time, I managed 5 reps on my own but I needed jack to help me with the sixth, again he told me I did well. We then moved on to the deadlifts, this really took it out of me, jack again showed how easy it was for him, getting your back position right, pulling your shoulder blades back and squatting again, after my first go jack decided not to add any weight to the bar as he could see I was struggling with it he told me just to do it with no weight until I was confident in my form, by the end of this exercise I was really really tired, jack noticed that I was flagging a bit, he told me that was the last of the big exercises and we were gonna do some smaller ones. Jack instructed me through some light shoulder presses, after that my shoulders felt like they were burning, I felt like crying I ached so much, but my tears turned to gawping wen jack showed me some bicep exercises, although not huge his arms bulged and peaked amazingly in his tight tee, I had to try my hardest not to touch and also hide my growing hard on, jack must of noticed because after his set he turned to me and whispered to me that it was ok but don’t make it look so obvious next time. I completed a few light sets of bicep curls, but my arms were giving up and couldn’t take much more, but jack persisted this time, he showed me a basic tricep exercise using a cable machine and a rope contraption, it was called a tricep pull down, that was very lightweight at 5kg as my arms were really aching, after that we had finally finished. Jack took me down to the changing room, where he handed me another protein shake and some creatine powder, told me to mix them together and drink. Jack said he wouldn’t be coming home with me as he had to do his own training with his team, he gave me one last visusal treat by peeling his tight top off, his ripped body was bulging, rippling and sweaty, he towelled himself down the put his clubs training top on, he said he would see me later and left. So that was day one of my gym experience and as I type this I still ache all over, I’ll update you soon
  23. (already posted elsewhere)
  24. Shade

    Jekyll And Hyde Redux: Part 2

    Part 1 The Giant Awakes Toby didn’t just feel like another person. He was another person. He knew he had to be. Everything before fifteen minutes ago seemed like a distance dream. This body made him feel so huge, confident and cocky. He could have or be whatever he wanted. He was sure of it. But right now all he wanted…no, a voice inside his head corrected…all he needed was a tight piece of ass. The walk to the gym had been fairly quick, since Toby’s apartment was located so close to the college itself. The small college town was dead for a Sunday night in late summer. He strolled into the unguarded complex and walked towards the locker rooms. Someone here had to have clothes that would he could use. He came upon a door that was padlocked. The sign on the door read: private. Might be something in there worth checking out, he thought, as he brushed aside any doubt in his mind. Instinctively, he grabbed the lock in his meaty hand and he crushed it with increasing effort. He felt his muscles strain with the exertion and his mighty bicep flexed and bunched. In his fist the metal slowly, then more rapidly, began to give way until with a metallic groan the lock snapped and came off in his hand. He threw open the door and looked inside. All around him was a football player’s fantasy of uniforms and equipment. He smiled to himself when he saw shorts on a shelf near the uniforms. Must be workout clothes, he thought. He grabbed the biggest pair he could find, taking off the sweatpants and replacing them with these elastic lycra shorts. They were very snug and his package was displayed prominently in the front. Something in the back of his mind seemed concerned about this: breaking and entering, stealing. But he quickly brushed aside those thoughts as he caught his reflection in a nearby mirror. One flex of his mighty guns in an awe inspiring double biceps pose was all it took to convince him that his might made right. A few minutes later, suitably clad, he strolled into the weight room of the athletic complex like he owned it. It was dead since no one much came on a Sunday at this time of night, but somehow Toby had known that he wouldn’t be disappointed. The only other person to be found there was a bodybuilder finishing a late evening workout. No one to spot him. So intent was he on his workout that he hadn’t even noticed Toby stroll into the room. The new Toby took to him instantly. There was something cocky about this guy lying on the bench with his heavy weights. Toby stood there for a minute staring at him. Admiring the way the bodybuilder’s chest flexed every time he benched the massive weight over his head. The bodybuilder’s pecs were full and thick, and they jutted up like mountains almost hiding his square jawed face from view. Handsome, Toby noted. As he moved the bar he continually flexed and unflexed his massive arms, with their biceps like small cannonballs, his enormous triceps straining. It was obvious he had a widespread back as he lay there. Toby nodded approvingly, observing that like his own chiseled abdominal muscles, there was hardly any fat on this man either. His sculpted stomach swept down to his workout shorts, which being tight against his skin, showed a robust bulge at the crotch. The legs were large with his thick striated thighs and immense calves. But the crotch was what kept Toby’s attention though, so obvious to whomever might be looking at this guy. So powerful, this alpha male on display. This guy would have outclassed many a professional bodybuilder, but for all his size and strength he was no match for the six-foot four-inch Toby. “Dude, give me a spot,” said Toby imperiously. The young bodybuilder put the weight bar back on the rack with a powerful clang of the metal. Heaved a sigh and sat up, ready to tell off this new upstart on his turf. But he was not prepared for the man who moved to stand in front of him. The annoyed look that was on the bodybuilder’s face disappeared as he drank in the eclipsing sight of the colossal behemoth standing before him. Toby’s erection that had subsided on the way from the apartment began to come back with an initial quiver of his dick. He watched this little guy trying to comprehend the size and power before him. The young bodybuilder inadvertently gasped in wonderment. There was simply no contest between them. “What’s your name, little man?” he asked the young bodybuilder. For emphasis Toby flexed his pecs, making the gigantic mounds bunch and jump. “Uh…Shane,” the other bodybuilder said haltingly. Shane didn’t know what to take in first: this new guy’s face, his arms or his crotch. He inadvertently opened his mouth when he saw the giant rod reaching along Toby’s shorts on a path down to his hips. When Toby realized what Shane was looking at, he flexed his growing cock and was rewarded with an appreciative murmur from his new admirer. He put a big hand on Shane’s shoulder and pulled him closer, knowing that he could probably demand whatever he wanted of him at this point. “Spot me,” said Toby again. Shane got up chastened and moved out of Toby’s way. Toby had never worked out with weights a day in his life, but some part of him seemed to take to it instantly. Like it was natural. “Go ahead and put some weight on this thing,” he told Shane after he lifted the bar with the weights still on it from Shane’s workout, hoisting it and doing an experimental rep, “It too light, little man.” Shane obediently approached the bar. He glanced at the two hundred seventy pounds that he’d been using, stacked equally on either side of the bar and went to grab more. “More!” cried out Toby in a deep voice. Shane kept grabbing all the plates he could find and piled them on, at Toby’s continued commands, not understanding the strength of the muscle god before him. Finally Toby seemed satisfied with the last of the new weights in place. He hefted the bar. He felt the increased strength course through his increased muscles. Even though it was a huge weight he barely felt it at first. Pumping out reps as he pressed over one thousand pounds above his mountainous chest. Maybe he’d never worked out before, but he felt like he knew what he was doing. His enormous cannonball biceps bunched up into huge masses as he benched, surprising even him with their size. With every rep they became even larger as blood rushed to the muscles and caused them to expand. His chest swelled beyond belief. He slammed out ten, twenty, fifty reps with this weight without feeling a thing, but by the time he reached eighty, strong as he was – these muscles were burning. With a shout, having nonchalantly broken every record in the book, he finished his set and dropped the bar onto the rack with a crash far larger then Shane had earlier. “Jesus fucking Christ!” said Shane in awe. He could not comprehend what he had just witnessed, was in fact blown away by the present size of Toby’s arms and legs which were now bigger even than before. Satisfied with the performance of his new body, Toby brought both his arms up and flexed them forcing Shane to look from one to the other in complete wonder. Shane licked his lips unconsciously. Toby watched Shane lick his lips as he watched his titanic guns flexing. The idea that this guy was getting turned on by him made his dick become iron in his shorts. He was aware that it might indeed rip through the fabric. But the persistent voice inside him said: Of course Shane would. A powerful new impulse was taking him over. He was a muscle god after all – let this guy worship him. “What do you think,” growled Toby, “Do you like these big fuckers?” “Oh, yeah,” breathed Shane slowly. With all the power of his hulking new body, Toby suddenly stood up with a roar. Grinding his muscles into the biggest, hardest, most magnificent most muscular pose ever seen in that hemisphere. Shane was now clearly open mouthed with desire, and there was an obvious bulge in his own tight shorts. Toby’s pecs were so huge and pumped they seemed to stick straight out from his torso; the space between them was a valley cavernous enough to hide a man’s hand in up to the wrist. Unable to wait anymore, Toby pushed down his shorts and pulled out his mighty manhood. The huge muscles in his arms flexed as he worked on his dick, pulling it and stroking it until it wasn’t merely hard, it was like a steel rod, a jackhammer: ready to pulverize concrete or iron. He stood before Shane, almost naked, except for the tightly stretched shorts around his thighs. “Look at me little man! You love my body don’t you?” Shane could only nod in his agreement. “Get down and worship me then,” he commanded, “Kneel before my jock and prepare to get your face fucked by a real man.” Shane crawled over and began to lick and kiss Toby’s big feet. Toby could smell the scent of hot sweat coming from his body, mingling with the scent of sex. He knew he was a real man, he knew he was more man than Michael even. Then he felt Shane’s tongue begin to work his legs. Then past the iron hard calves that were the size of most men’s thighs, then to the trunk-like thighs as Shane pressed his tongue eagerly over the flexing muscles. Toby then grabbed Shane by his hair and held him at arms length from his crotch. With his other hand he held the twelve thick inches of his mighty steel rod and stuck it straight out. The purple head was enormous and Toby realized that even he hadn’t taken the time to properly admire himself since his earlier transformation. His cock had more than doubled in length and tripled in girth. Shane licked his lips as they both watched the steady stream of clear pre-cum juice leak out of the throbbing cock head and drip off the end like a leaky faucet, while some ran down the underside. Toby let me go for a moment as he ripped off his shorts, finally standing totally exposed in a magnificent and glorious display of his full naked glory. With one hand behind his head, his arm and shoulder muscles flexing in sharp relief as he posed for Shane’s benefit. His other hand was down at his huge cock slowly, playfully, stroking it. Shane watched the hand run down all the way down to the thick base by the balls bigger than those of an ox. After squeezing them carefully in his mighty fist, Toby then ever so slowly pulled his fist upwards along the thick, hot shaft of manhood. Shane thought it would take him forever to get to the top. His cock was, like the rest of this man, perfect in shape and detail. An almost purple mushroom shaped head capped the baseball bat shaft. So wide was it that Shane thought he wouldn’t be able to put his fingers around it. Toby’s hips began to pump the air somewhat as he continued jerking himself off. Every part of his essence enjoyed watching Shane drool over his body. His pre-cum was by now rubbed all over his cock, making it wet and shiny in the phosphorescent gym light. “I’m gonna give you what you’ve been waiting for. Get down on your knees, and open wide!” Shane obeyed the command from that deep sexy voice like an robot. He crawled on his knees, mouth open wide and ready to be impaled upon the super thick tool. As he reached out with his pair of hands to guide the cock into his eager mouth, something deep in Toby stirred. “No hands little man. Just put all of that hot little mouth of yours into sucking my monster. Leave the rest to me and let me feed you.” Toby took one hand to grab the top of Shane’s head in a grip like a vise and with the other he fisted his twelve inches towards Shane’s face. Every so slowly, enjoying the agony and the ecstasy it caused. Shane stretched his tongue out as far as I could; struggling for a taste of the pre-cum. Finally Toby let him have it. “Lick me. Yeah that’s it little man, run your fucking tongue over my cock. Better get ready for just how big this thing is. Toby grunted in pleasure as Shane’s tongue did its job, savoring the taste of the sweet salty juice. He was lapping the fat mushroom cap of his dick, bathing his cock with my hot tongue as it poked and prodded my mouth. Toby began to slap his hard dick against Shane’s face, spraying it with his leaking pre-cum and spit. It was like someone was hitting Shane with a brick, that dick was so big and hard. There were red marks on his checks and Toby brandished it like a weapon. The shaft made hot smacking sounds as it was repeatedly slapped against Shane’s cheeks, as he ran it over Shane’s forehead Toby was so hot, so muscular and so horny. God, he’d never felt such pleasure as making this bodybuilder his slave. “Now start sucking!” Toby boomed, no longer in control of his actions. He grabbed Shane’s head with both hands, on either side, and fed him his dick. All this massive young bodybuilder was was a tight hot wet hole. Nothing more. The cock stuffed into Shane’s mouth, was slowly being pushed in and out. Toby was totally in control as he held Shane’s head, the smaller man knowing the strength of Toby’s hands was so powerful he couldn’t free himself. He was completely at the Toby’s mercy. Shane ran his hands up and over the back of Toby’s legs, as far as he could reach, feeling the large thick muscles, up the iron thighs, to finally rest on his perfectly muscled ass. It was the classic jock’s ass, but magnified. Built of steel, smooth and round and pure muscle. Shane could feel the glutes clench and unclench as this man used his mighty hips to power drive his dick into Shane’s mouth. But then the beast in Toby let loose and he began the serious face fucking. He pushed with his hips, forcing more and more of his cock into Shane’s mouth, past his tongue and down his throat. First he pushed in about an inch, and then pulled almost all the way out – so that just his humongous head was in Shane’s mouth. Slowly though he would push it all back in, going deeper and deeper each time. As he got deeper and deeper his speed started to pick up. Shane felt like he was going to pass out. His own dick was leaking like a faucet, soiling his clothes. But he had to ignore it, he had no other choice. Shane was sucking with his whole being, sparing no effort. “I’m gonna cum,” roared Toby, like it was a primal scream, “Keep sucking my dick. Yeah make it sooo good…so fucking hot…I can’t stand it…your sucking me so good. I’m so close…want to cum…need to cum…oh, shit. SUCK IT … HARDER … SUCK IT!” Toby felt like a virgin, like he’d never cum before in his life. His huge bull balls boiling with gallons of cum. With one final thrust he let loose his first mountainous load in Shane’s mouth, holding Shane’s face tightly pressed against to his crotch. Try as he might, there was no way Shane could cope with that volume so quickly. Cum spilled out everywhere: around Toby’s cock, on the floor and down Shane’s chest. Toby pulled away out with a slurping noise. He stood before Shane as he stroked it with his fist aiming his dick at Shane’s face, so that he could get the benefit of the final shots on his face. The big rod remained still fully hard, fully erect in front of Shane like a baseball bat. It was covered in its own juice and spit. From its end yet another drop of cum hit the floor. Shane got to his feet unsure what was going to happen next. Toby stretched his arms, every muscle of the huge muscular stud primed and standing out. A contented smirk on his face. “Where are you going?” he questioned warningly. The cock that might or might not have been going soft was being fisted in Toby’s palm to maintain its full glory. “I’m just getting warmed up, now I want some of the real thing. I’m gonna drive my power tool up your tight ass,” he stated matter of factly. With his tremendous strength he quickly forced Shane around and over a nearby weight bench. Shane didn’t bother to put up much resistance. Couldn’t put up much resistance in fact. In a few seconds, those same powerful hands had ripped away the clothing separating Toby from his prize. He held Shane firmly in place. Then with a deft motion he placed his giant cock head between Shane’s now exposed ass cheeks, and without much ado pressed on inside. Toby stopped only long enough to get a firm grip on Shane’s hips with his big hands. He really started to fuck him then. His powerful thighs pushed that monster cock of inside of Shane faster and faster. Shane thought this wasn’t going to take long. Toby thrust like a man on the edge. Shane grabbed his own cock intent on cumming with his new master. He didn’t want this feeling to stop ever. Toby felt possessed, out of control. He felt like he hadn’t cum before. Certainly not just a few minutes ago. His cock had a mind of its own. It felt so good. Just when he felt he was about to cum, Toby turned Shane over. On his knees, his big cock throbbed, aching to be back inside Shane’s ass. Shane just wanted to feel that big head pass through his lips and burst in his mouth again, but Toby just forced him onto his back and pulled up his legs. With a devilish grin Toby pushed himself into position, Shane’s massive thighs and legs on top of his shoulders, his ass high up in the air ripe for plunder. Toby’s dick was now so fucking hard he could barely bend it down to the necessary position. It was then that Shane realized that during his doggy style session a few minutes ago, Toby had barely used one quarter of his long thick cock. He got a little scared and felt around Toby’s big arms and chest for a hold, the big muscles making him feel like a child. Toby looked into his eyes when Shane caught hold of the back of his thickly muscled neck. Shane’s face contorted in a mix of pain, fear and pleasure as Toby pushed down into him. Shane’s hands were on Toby’s chest, digging into the muscle. Every fiber of muscle was sharp and defined. Those two giant slabs of beef looked like they were carved from granite. Shane’s fingers felt for the two erect nipples capping his pecs. Beads of sweat rolled down his mountainous chest, dripping on Shane like rain. Shane’s eyes wandered down the rippling washboard abs and locked on the big cock using his tight little asshole. Toby noticed where Shane’s was looking and grabbed him and pushed down hard. His eyes never left Shane’s face. He enjoyed the pain he was causing and the lust for more of his cock while he kept bearing down on him. Then he nearly broke Shane’s back as he let his weight push in his cock to the roots, his balls slapping against Shane’s ass. Toby kept bearing down like that a couple of times, moving no more then an inch or so with his big cock, widening up the asshole for some real power drive fucking. Then he gave it to him, the hard way. He nearly pulled out his cock and in one fluid motion he pushed back in again. After a couple of times he increased momentum. His balls slapping on Shane’s ass, each groaning with lust. Shane’s stroking his own cock. Toby kept this up for some time. Sweat poured down his huge muscles, his body worked like one big fucking machine. Then he bent his arms and placed them around Shane’s head, his elbows on the bench, all this without missing a beat. “Fuck yeah,” he groaned. “That feels real good.” Shane’s head was buried between Toby’s big upper arms and chest muscles. He was in heaven. His ass had finally relaxed enough for him to really enjoy the fucking it was receiving. With his free hand Shane squeezed and stroked Toby’s biceps, as Toby made them hard as granite. When Shane put his mouth and tongue on them he could fell them tightening. He knew he couldn’t have dented the flesh even if he’d used his teeth. Shane suddenly felt himself cumming onto his stomach when he felt Toby’s hot semen splash inside his ass, sending wave after wave of hot spunk where no man had gone before. If possible it felt like it must have been even more than the last time. Toby felt something give inside him as he came. Like some balloon had just popped inside him. He actually collapsed onto Shane, almost crushing him with his weight, Shane’s cum squishing between them. His face was close to the other man’s. For the first time all evening Toby felt a moment of tenderness and really looked into Shane’s eyes. Having righted himself he leaned down to kiss the other man’s full lips and sighed. Shane realized that something had changed in the man before him. The iron giant seemed to have lost something with that last fuck, but Shane was still in awe of the man on top of him. “Flex for me,” begged Shane. Toby smiled and stood up, his body as hard as the marble of a Greek statue of Hercules. He smiled down at Shane still lying dumbfounded on the floor and began to flex for him. Toby ran through a routine that would have made a Mr. Olympia proud. But the earlier sexual excitement was gone. His naked cock did not get stir at even the sight of Shane’s hardening cock. Even as he ran through some mind-blowing poses, he realized he felt spent: drained. Just then in the middle of a massive pose it hit him. Right there in the pit of his stomach. He doubled over in pain. Shane’s look of ecstasy turned to one of concern as he saw his master bend over clutching his stomach. Toby didn’t know what it was, but the idea of side effects came flashing into his mind. He’d only taken the formula an hour before; he couldn’t know what has happening. He had to get home! He suddenly felt weak and vulnerable, like the old Toby. He felt all the earlier confidence drain from him, and all the old self-doubt came flooding back in. He didn’t wait to make sense of it. Realizing he was naked, he bolted from the gym and headed straight for the storage room where he’d left his sweatpants. Shane stupidly called after him asking what was wrong, but Toby’s massive quads had propelled him from the room before he could even get up from where he was lying, cum-covered, on the gym floor. Toby made it to the storage room and slipped into his old sweatpants. They felt baggier than they had earlier on the walk over. The pain in his stomach was getting worse too. Shane had gotten up to follow him, but had run for the locker rooms instead; not knowing which way Toby had gone. Seeing his chance of escape, Toby bolted out the door as his strength continued to ebb. He covered the fifteen-minute walk in a few minutes as he bolted down the street and heaved a sigh of relief as he felt his apartment door shut behind him. He knew he was shrinking. He knew he’d begun to loose his mass after that initial feeling of pain. It was getting worse than it had been before his initial transformation earlier. Hit with another terrible wave of pain, he tried to go for the phone thinking somewhat irrationally at this point that he could call for help. No longer able to concentrate, he made it as far as the center of the room when he felt the blackness overtake him. The last thing he remembered was the pain of the floor against his face as his weight came crashing down on it. Then the darkness overtook him and he knew no more.... Read the Next Part