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  1. YungFrancis

    m/m Growing Together

    First Story! I'm still getting a handle on things on this site, but this is really the first story I've EVER posted online...EVER! I hope y'all like it. There wasn’t really anything I wouldn’t do for Tommy, and so that’s why I wound up doing just about everything for Tommy. You could say our life together is anything but normal, but I think that’s part of what makes it all so special. We were freaks. But soon we would have to change the way our dynamic was working because I was starting to become so freaky, I really needed help taking care of the both of us. Sure, we were never bodybuilders or anything, but we had dedicated our lives to becoming the biggest, freakiest, most musclebound monsters there ever was. Tommy got there a few years ago, with the help of entire teams of doctors and nutritionists, personal trainers, freaking scientists! It took a lot of work, drove us completely over the edge, but together, we transformed ourselves into beasts and formulated lines of supplements all kinds of shit to help other people grow like we did. But no one ever came close to Tommy. There are a handful out there a lot like me, over six hundred pounds of beef, albeit a little blubber here and there. I’m not cut like I was in college, but it’s grown on me. Something with my system and the formula just didn’t agree and I blimped out a bit. It’s nothing crazy, just some pooch, but it makes me look all kinds of swole. I can’t really fit through doorways, and clothes have to be made custom, but I love shit to be tight, so sometimes I buy normal stuff so I can hulk out of them. Tommy loves it. He can’t really get up anymore, not without help. They gave him all kinds of implants and hormones to make him a little taller, to pack on more mass, but more importantly, make him sturdier. His bones are fucking huge! When we met, he was like six feet tall, maybe two hundred thirty pounds of off-season bulk. Today, after maybe ten years, he’s seven feet even and almost a thousand pounds. He can’t tie his shoes anymore, he can’t wipe his ass anymore, he can feed himself after we stretch for most of the morning, but that’s about it. We really only dress him to workout, but he has shit that’ll make him decent if one of us is feeling like going on a little date. “Babe.” I pat the mountainous slab that was his pec. “Baby…” Due to his size, Tommy snored. Sometimes, if he wasn’t angled right, he stopped breathing, but that was a problem of the past. Now, the real struggle was getting his giant ass up in the morning; his snores rattled the windows! My heart always melts when I watch him sleep. All those enhancements we made on his body had gradually altered his face too. When we met, he kept his blonde waves cropped short, and you could cut glass on his cheekbones. His jawline was thick and manly, and the cleft in his chin went deeper than I thought a cleft could really go. His lips were luscious and lovely, but it was his eyes that won you over. He had the most gorgeous pair of baby blue eyes framed by long lashes. Those eyes were really the only thing that remained of the man I had fallen for, at least on the outside. He had been swallowed up by the beast of my dreams, a hulk with a jawline that nearly gave him an underbite. His lips had plumped up, growing thick like something even a porn star would be envious of. His cheeks had sunken in as his metabolism skyrocketed, eating away every ounce of fat on his body, making his cheekbones stand out all the more, and then growing even farther when he started on his bone supplements. Every muscle in his face rippled, the veins on his temples often bulged out when he spoke or chewed, his brow had grown heavy like a brick. It was a hard face, but the hottest and most lovable face I had ever known. He was my beast. “Hey…” I tried to shove…something. I pushed on his shoulder, his globe-sized shoulder, but I barely even made an indentation on his skin. “TOMMY!” I slapped his leg. There was a satisfying PAP! sound as my hand clapped against his beefy, hairy thigh. Even relaxed, every striation stood out like his skin were paper thin. That roused him. He stopped snoring and mumbled, confused and annoyed. “Uh?” His morning voice was so deep and scratchy. He jerked his head around as best he could without much in the way of a neck. His thick beard hung down, between his pecs and slipped back and forth as he looked around the room. “What?” he croaked. “We gotta get up.” I said, kissing him. “I made breakfast, come on.” “Mmm…” He tried to stretch, but he could barely lift his arms. “Noooo…” Something jerked me forward, and suddenly I was crushed up against my lover’s immense body. It was only when he literally ripped the clothes from my body with a single tug that I realized he had pulled me in for a bearhug. His foot long morning wood brushing against the insides of my own massive thighs. I got hard right then and there. That was another thing that I absolutely fucking loved about Tommy. When we fucked, he could hold me up in one hand forever. I’m fucking massive, but he was a monster that could bend around and throw me and manipulate me like I was just a toy. He took me by the wingspan that was my lats and lowered me down on his massive cock. It still felt like he could tear me in half, but I loved it. Even lying down, his balls were so huge my thick backside slapped against them. He fucked me for what felt like an hour, getting harder every time he made me scream or moan. I had lost all control of myself, and this was just morning wood. I lost all track of time when he came inside me, but by the time he had finished, my guy was taught. He tried to get up, still holding me, but bending at the waist was impossible right now. The other day, we had destroyed his chest and abs, and he moaned with pain as he found against his own body. Tommy set me down, but I had lost feeling in my legs. And there we were, him sprawled out on the bed, me sprawled out on the floor. Even laughing hurt like hell as he chuckled at our situation. We had turned ourselves into total freaks, and I don’t think either of us would change a single thing. To be continued?
  2. dredlifter

    The Giant Football Coach - Chapter 4

    Previously CHAPTER 4: Double As the rest of the team headed inside the training complex, I made my way over the other side of the field to pick up coach's shirt. As I picked it up, I noticed that it didn't seem any bigger, unlike Coach. I grabbed the sweaty garment, Coach's manly sweat stench washing over me, and headed back over to Coach standing near the goal post. “Here's your shirt, Coach Wood. But I don't think it will fit you any more...” Coach crouched way down and took the shirt from my hands. He picked it up and held it out in front of him. I was right. While I would've been swimming in his shirt, to him it looked like a toddler's t-shirt. “WELL DAMN, THIS LITTLE THING WOULDN'T EVEN FIT ONE OF MY LEGS!” Coach boasted. “THE REST OF MY CLOTHES GREW, THOUGH. GUESS I'LL JUST HAVE TO GO SHIRTLESS UNTIL I CAN GET A NEW SHIRT MADE!” I shouted up at him, “I don't think anybody would have a problem with that, big guy. And if they do, what are they gonna do?!” “HAHA. DAMN RIGHT. THERE'S NO MAN ON EARTH WHO CAN MATCH UP TO THIS!” Coach crunched down into a most muscular pose right over the top of me, filling my vision with nothing buy hairy, ripped musculature. I was amazed and showered him with praise. “Damn Coach, imagine if you competed in a bodybuilding show now at your new size! That would ROCK!” Coach relaxed his pose, chuckled, and reached down and patted the top of my head. My skull fitting easily in just the palm of his hand. “THAT'S WHY I LIKE YOU, JACKSON. ALWAYS WORKING YOUR ASS OFF AND ALWAYS MAKING ME FEEL GOOD. ALRIGHT LITTLE GUY, HEAD INSIDE AND GET TO LIFTING WITH YOUR BUDDIES, I'LL BE IN A FEW.” I made my way into the locker room, cooled off and changed into my lifting clothes. After refueling in the team's cafeteria, 45 minutes later it was time for the defensive backs' lifting session. We headed into the weight room and were greeted again by the sight of our towering, muscular colossus of a coach, our eyes about level with his knees. I took notice that it was good thing the weight room was a cavernous, warehouse type room. It was thankfully large enough that our captain could still stand inside. Even then, Coach's head looked to be less than 10 ft from the ceiling. I briefly wondered how he even got inside until I remembered the garage door at the other end of the building. Today we would be doing Olympic lifts. Hang cleans, clean and jerks and snatches to really work on our explosive power, which is ideal for football. As we took turns doing our lifts, Coach would walk along the line behind us. It was crazy to look in the mirror in front of us and only be able to see his massive crotch hovering about our heads. The mirror was far too short to expose anything above his waist. And nothing was more motivating the hearing his voice booming down encouragement. “NICE JOB JACKSON. REMEMBER TO USE YOUR LEGS. REALLY USE YOUR LOWER BODY TO DRIVE THAT WEIGHT ABOVE YOUR HEAT. TURNAROUND AND I'LL DEMONSTRATE.” I turned around to looked up and watched as Coach brought his arms up to his shoulders like he was pretending to hold a barbell on top of his chest. “MAKE SURE YOU KEEP YOUR BACK STRAIGHT AND STICK OUR ASS OUT AS YOU CROUCH DOWN...” Coach began to squat down, his huge muscle ass filling the khaki shorts to the brink, his quads and hamstrings exploding in relief, his huge chest puffed out from his exaggerated arched back. “WHEN YOU GET DOWN SO YOUR LEGS ARE PARALLEL TO THE FLOOR, EXPLODE UP WITH YOUR LEGS AND THEN PUSH YOUR ARMS UP TO GET THAT WEIGHT ABOVE YOUR HEAD.” Coach quickly stood up straight, his head rocketing upward far beyond comprehension. As he extending his magnificent arms his fists accidentally PUNCHED the ceiling! One of his hands collided with a light fixture sending small shards of glass raining down. I instinctively ran under the nearest thing I could, Coach Wood himself. “WHOOPS!” Coach exclaimed surprised. After the glass bounced harmlessly off his chest and fell to ground I heard a booming chuckle. “DAMN, I FORGET HOW SMALL THESE BUILDINGS ARE. HOW SMALL AND FRAGILE THEY ARE TO A BIG, STONG MAN LIKE MYSELF, HAHA! WHERE'D YOU GO JACKSON??” “Down here, Coach!” Coach leaned over and saw me huddled underneath him. He grinned when he saw me. “HEY LITTLE GUY. SORRY ABOUT THAT. BUT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU QUICKLY FOUND THE SAFEST PLACE. UNDERNEATH MY MASSIVE PECS!” Coach playfully bounced his colossal pecs as I stared straight upward. “YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN ONE OF MY SMARTER PLAYERS, LITTLE GUY. THIS IS JUST ANOTHER EXAMPLE!” “Thanks, Coach! You'll just have to be careful in this world that was made of us little guys!” “I KNOW, I KNOW. BUT DAMN I TELL YA, IT EXCITES ME TO KNOW THAT I'M OUTGROWING YOU GUYS AND THESE LITTLE BUILDINGS. I'M LOVING THE POWER I'M FEELING.” I looked at him nervously and he quickly saw the look of trepidation on my face. “BUT DON'T WORRY, JACKSON. I WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO MY PLAYERS. YOU ARE ALL LIKE MY SONS. I JUST WANT TO MOTIVATE YOU TO BE THE BEST YOU CAN BE!” I smiled warmly up at him and he gave returned a handsome smile, putting me a ease. “GREAT WORKOUT MEN, SHOWER UP! WE WILL BE HAVING A TEAM MEETING IN THE FIELDHOUSE TONIGHT AT 7:00PM. I'LL SEE YOU ALL THERE.” And with that, Coach stomped over the garage door, opened it and ducked down through it and into the hot summer air. ---------- A few hours later my roommate and I left our dorm and headed to the fieldhouse. The fieldhouse was a huge cavernous building, about the size of 1.5 football fields. It allowed us to practice inside during inclement weather and during the cold winter as well. We made our way inside and saw shirtless Coach towering over the growing mass of players at the other end. Jamal, of course, pointed out the obvious. “Coach, are you just gonna hang out shirtless all the time showing off your huge muscles or what? Put a shirt on man!” Coach chuckled down at Jamal. “WELL, JAMAL, UNFORTUNATELY I DON'T HAVE A SHIRT THAT FITS. I SPOKE TO DR. MARTIN, THE PHYSICS PROFESSOR. HE SAYS THAT SINCE MY BODY IS THE MAIN SOURCE OF THE GROWTH, ONLY THE CLOTHES THAT I AM WEARING WHEN I GROW WILL GROW WITH ME. SINCE I HAD MY SHIRT OFF WHEN DOING PUSHUPS IT DIDN'T GROW WITH ME.” We all nodded as he explained. Like our leader and Dr. Martin, we were still learning all the ins-and-outs of what was really going on with our growing leader. Coach smirked down at Jamal and stepped right up to him, Jamal slightly backed up in intimidation. He knew Coach wouldn't do anything, but when a 25 ft tall bodybuilder moves toward you you can't help but shirk a bit in fear. “BESIDES, JAMAL, WHY WOULD I WANT TO COVER UP THIS MUSCLEBEEF! BOOM!” Coach quicly turned sideways and executed a graceful side chest pose. This hamstrings and arms tightened and his chest shelf bulged up like a filling balloon. Jamal shouted back up in response, “Damn, Coach, looking JACKED! I guess you're right. If I looked like that I would NEVER wear a shirt either!” The crowd of players laughed in response. We all completely agreed. “WELL LITTLE GUY, AS YOUR COACH ITS MY GOAL TO GET YOU UP TO MY LEVEL...WELL MAYBE NOT MY NEW LEVEL, BUT CLOSER ANYWAY, HEHE! SO, ANYWAYS BOYS, THE REASON I CALLED YOU HERE IS THIS IS WHERE WE WILL CONDUCT OUR TEAM MEETINGS FROM NOW ON. THIS SPACE WILL ALSO SERVE AS MY OFFICE AND LIVING SPACE. AS YOU CAN SURMISE, I'VE BECOME SO DAMN HUGE THAT I'VE OUTGROWN OUR TINY LITTLE AUDITORIUM AND I'VE DONE THE SAME TO MY HOUSE. THE DEAN IS WORKING TO BRING ME IN SOME BASIC AMMENITIES. AND I WILL BE ABLE TO HIDE A BIT IN HERE TOO. AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, THE PRESS IS GOING WILD AT THE THOUGHT OF A GIANT FOOTBALL COACH. ” We looked over to the tall, open garage door and saw men bringing in several mattresses. It looked they would be linked together to serve as a his makeshift bed. We watched them complete the bed as coach went over this weeks routine in preparation for our first game. They also brought in a huge, hastily built wooden bench, obviously meant to give coach something to sit on. They brought in some more crates for our leader to do whatever with and soon left and closed the garage door. After more discussion Coach began to bring the meeting to a close. “SO, IF YOU NEED ANYTHING I WILL BE IN HERE. THE DEAN HAS INSTALLAED A BUZZER ON THE DOOR THAT WILL ALERT ME WHEN YOU WANT TO COME IN. THAT'S ALL I HAVE BOYS, NOW IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME, I NEED TO FIGURE OUT HOW I'M GOING TO GET SOME FRESH CLOTHES. WE'LL SEE YOU TOMORROW FOR PRACTICE, MEN!” We began filling out the side door as Coach kicked off his shoes and socks. Being at the back of the group and a freshmen, I let the upper classmen exit first. Before I stepped out I turned to see coach facing away from us and sliding down his khaki shorts! He was wearing a dark grey jockstrap underneath. His giant, lightly haired ass muscles were exposed, each framed by the straps of the jock. He turned and saw me, the last player left in the room, staring,. He gave me a grin and spoke, “HEY JACKSON, BEFORE YOU LEAVE COME HERE PLEASE.” Coach turned to face me as he spoke, revealing a fabric covered, bulge that was obscenely large, even for a man of his size. He had his hand on his hips as I walked toward him, the bulge looming high and higher and bigger and bigger as I approached. Clad in just his jockstrap, standing in front of me was the most perfect, most masculine man in the history. Clearly the rumors about him being mega-hung were true. Finally, I stopped about 5 ft in front of him. Any closer and his face would've been obscured by his bulge and/or pecs. “Yeah, Coach?” “JACKSON, IF YOU WOULDN'T MIND, WOULD YOU TAKE MY CLOTHES TO ASSISTANT COACH HARVEY? HE IS GOING TO GIVE THEM TO THE MAINTENANCE DEPARTMENT FOR WASHING. THESE ARE THE ONLY CLOTHES I'VE BEEN WEARING FOR THE PAST COUPLE OF DAYS AND THEY ARE STARTING TO STINK. PLUS I CAN'T FIT IN THE ATHLETIC OFFICES ANYMORE.” “, Coach! But, what are you going to wear?” “THE SERVICE GUYS BROUGHT ME A COUPLE OF SHEETS TO WRAP AROUND MY WAIST. HEHE, IT'S JUST LIKE THOSE TOGA PARTIES WE USED TO HAVE IN COLLEGE!” I imagined what a buff, young, 21 year old Coach looked like at a college toga party. Even if he weren't as muscularly developed at that time, he no doubt would've put any other frat bros to shame with his body. Coach then shocked me by leaning forward, grabbing each side of his jockstrap and slid it down his legs. He kicked up his left leg, then his right to step out of it. Awestruck, I saw his soft, cut dick flop down nearly 2/3 of the way to his knees! And it wasn't just long, it was THICK. The reason his bulge was so pronounced is that he obviously had to curl up his soft cock within the tight fabric of the jockstrap pouch! Plus, his ball were also enormous! Now, at his size they looked bigger than basketballs! Coach then slowly stood up, smirked and tossed the jockstrap to me. The huge, towel sized garment flung toward me and I instinctively reach out and caught it. It was still damp from his sweat and I was dampened by his masculine crotch essence. I was still staring, awestruck at my giant, naked, bodybuilder football coach. He notice my gaze and broke the silence, chuckling, “YEAH, JACKSON. I KNOW. EVEN I AM SURPRISED AT HOW BIG MY JUNK IS. IT ACTUALLY KEPT GROWING UNTIL I WAS 25 YEARS OLD, BELIEVE IT OR NOT.” Mercifully, Coach then turned and grabbed a bedsheet off the ground and wrapped it around his waist like a towel, shielding me from the incredibly emasculating site of his huge cock and bull balls. “THERE WE GO, NOW I'M AT LEAST SOMEWHAT DECENT. DON'T WANT TO CAUSE A STIR IF SOMEONE WALKS IN, RIGHT?” Coach winked down at me. “Yea...yeah Coach!” I stammered as he chuckled. “Would you hand me your shorts and socks and I'll take them to Assistant Coach Harvey.” Coach picked up the rest of his soiled garments, stepped up to me and piled them in arms. “THANKS, JACKSON. LET'S HOPE I DON'T GROW AGAIN WHILE I'M LIKE THIS OTHERWISE I'LL REALLY HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR! He thanked me and I exited the fieldhouse and completed my task. I couldn't help but replay the incredible show of pure manhood that I had just seen. As a football player I was used to seeing lots of junk in the locker rooms and such, but I had never seen anything as impressive as Coach's equipment. The following morning I went to class and I couldn't help but notice all the news vans parked along the athletic complex. Obviously the word had leaked out. I wasn't surprised, it had to be darn hard to hide a 25 ft tall muscle man. A couple reporters noticed me with my official athletes' bag and came over to try to interview me. I decline and sped up my walk to escape them. I heard similar stories from my teammates throughout the morning. After morning classes we notice the campus police had been pressuring the news vans to leave to allow us our privacy and we were very much thankful. After I ate my lunch I made my way back to the stadium for practice. The locker room was abuzz as we all shared our stories of being harassed by some of the reporters. Several of us noted that they better be careful, Coach certainly would NOT be happy with them if he knew they weren't leaving us alone. We dressed and made our way to the field and few minutes later the assistant coaches joined us, followed by out titanic head coach. His clothes must've been washed because he came out in his signature sneakers, socks, short khaki shorts, whistle and ballcap, looking as buff and as powerful as ever. Even after seeing him yesterday the first look was still awe inspiring. “GOOD TO SEE YOU ALL BOYS! NOW, I'VE BEEN HEARING SOME OF THE MEDIA HAVE BEEN GETTING IN YOUR FACES. IF ANYBODY MESSES WITH YOU LET ME KNOW!” Coach's face a had slight sneer on it as he spoke and the effect was terrifying. I would not want to face the wrath of a giant muscle man. “ALRIGHT BOYS LINE UP FOR STRETCHES.” After his introduction practice resumed as normal. Well, as normal as it could be with a huge coach looking after everyone. At his new vantage point he was able to see all the units working no matter where he was standing on the field. And he let us know too. Even when we was standing over next to the defensive lineman, he noticed one of the running backs goofing off at the other end of the field. “PORTER! YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK TO WORK!” He boomed across the field. Jeremy Porter blanched in fear and instantly got back to his drills, giving 110% effort for the rest of the day. Once everyone realized there was no hiding from a 25 ft football Coach, the intensity of practice as a whole kicked up another notch. And we were already known for practicing hard thanks to Coach's methods. After the unit practices we gathered together to practice our team plays. At one point he became displeased with our center's stance. “YOU NEED TO WORK ON YOUR THREE POINT STANCE, YOUR FEET ARE FAR TO NARROW! I NEED YOU TO GET DOWN LIKE THIS!” Coach stomped over, bent his knees and leaned straight over the center himself. He let his hubcap sized hand fall on the ground. “LIKE THIS! SEE HOW MY HIPS ARE WIDE AND READY TO EXPLODE FORWARD!” I could see the lineman of the defensive side of the ball stare up at his rippling body in fear as they imagined what it would be like to have to go against someone like Coach. “THEN WHEN YOU HIKE THE BALL YOU EXPLODE FORWARD, BRING YOUR HANDS TOGETHER AND PUSH THE DEFENSIVE GUY AWAY...LIKE THIS!” Coach the lunged forward and GRABBED the nearest defensive practice player, Billy Morton! With the small (to him) man in his huge hands, he LIFTED him up and pushed him out at arms length, pretending that he was pushing a man that matched his own size. Billy yelped, terrified at so easily being manhandled and brought 15 ft up in the air as if he weight no more than a feather. Coach set Billy back down. “THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME DEMONSTRATE BILLY, TAKE A WATER BREAK.” Billy was shaking as he went to grab a drink, I wondered if he had maybe pissed himself from the events. Jamal, never the one to keep quiet, voiced his awe, “Damn, Coach you picked him up like he was an action figure!” Coach turned and grinned down at Jamal. “JAMAL, SON, LOOK AT ME...” Coach flexed his enormous biceps up by his shoulder, “...AND LOOK AT YOU LITTLE MEN. YOU PRACTICALLY ARE ACTION FIGURES TO ME. I PROBABLY GOT MORE MUSCLE IN ONE OF THESE BICEPS THAN YOUR ENTIRE BODIES! PICKING UP ANY ONE OF YOU IS NOTHING!” Coach was starting to sound arrogant, but I guess when you look like him, you can back up that arrogance. For the next 45 minutes we ran our team plays to the coach's satisfaction. Then it was time for our conditioning. More situps and pushups. This time, Coach elected to stand at the front and direct us unlike yesterday. A few minutes later we were left panting and heaving for the effort, our abs, arms and chests burning. Once we caught our breath Jamal once again spoke up. “Hey, Coach, what's the deal? You always do situp and pushups with us! What's the matter, are they getting too hard for you now that you've put on some weight?” “IS THAT A CHALLENGE JAMAL?” “Heck, yeah Coach! Let's see what you've got, big guy!” Coach chuckled and slowly got down on all fours. If there was one way to manipulate Coach, it was to challenge him. “TELL YOU WHAT JAMAL, LET'S SEE IF I CAN DO 500 LIKE I DID YESTERDAY. ONLY, I AM GOING TO NEED SOME MORE RESISTANCE. FOR A BIG MAN LIKE ME PUSHUPS AREN'T MUCH OF A CHALLENGE ANYMORE,” Coach looked around at us and grinned. “ALRIGHT, ALL YOU FRESHMEN, CLIMB UP ON MY BACK, NOW!” The 16 of us freshmen all looked at each other, frozen in place. “I'M SERIOUS BOYS, HOP UP, YOU'LL BE SAFE, TRUST ME!” With that, Coach let himself fall flat on the ground. Us freshmen made our way over and clamored up on top of his beefy back. His warm, thick skin felt like taught leather underneath our hands and feet. Because he was nearly perfect in every way, there was no hair on his back, just smooth, tanned, hard, lumpy muscle. After the last of us had climbed on, Coach instructed, “OK SPREAD OUT EVENLY UP THERE, UP AS CLOSE TO MY SHOULDERS AS YOU CAN. I'VE GOT A MASSIVE BACK SO THERE SHOULD BE PLENTY OF ROOM FOR YOU ALL. OK, NOW STAY OUT OF THE CENTER OF MY BACK, WHERE MY BACK MUSCLES WILL PINCH TOGETHER. I'D HATE TO ACCIDENTALLY SQUEEZE ONE OF MY PLAYERS.” Coach felt us maneuver around. I took the highest position up by his shoulders. Just in front of me was the drop off from his front delts that led to the ground. We all had to squeeze in just a bit but there was still just enough room as we covered the expanse of his upper back. “OK BOYS GET COMFY. HANG ON TO EACH OTHER, IT MAY BECOME AN INTENSE RIDE!” And with that Coach began. Up and down. Up and down. It felt like being an enormous seesaw. I hoped that none of my fellow freshmen suffered from seasickness. To steady ourselves we all linked arms. Coach's form, like every part of him, was flawless. His huge back bunched and bulged underneath our butts as he continued the movement. The upperclassmen were hooting and hollering the whole time, encouraging their hero to pour it on. “Yeah, Coach! See if you can make those tinies fly off your back, like a bucking bronco!” “Damn, look his form! Looks at those triceps and pecs swell, bro!” “Is it hard with all those men on your back?” Coach, with his perfect form had his head up the entire time, watching his players praise him. “NOT AT ALL LITTLE BUDDY. I CAN BARELY FEEL THEM BACK THERE. IN FACT I FEEL STRONGER AND MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER!” Coach smiled cockily and exclaimed as he passed 100 reps. On top of his back we all began to notice his skin warming up. Soon our butts began to dampen as well as sweat began to form on his back. At 200 reps we also began to notice something else. For some reason, all of us freshmen began to slowly drift away from each other. I wondered if we were just sliding around on his sweat but then I saw it. His back was stretching WIDER! And not just wider, longer. I heard more gasps from the players still on the field as they realized what as happening. Coach was growing. Again! He moaned deeply as the feeling set in. “OHHHH YEAH BOYS. I'M FEELING IT AGAIN! GETTING TALLER...AND BIGGER...AND STRONGER! YEAHHHH!” Once again the toes of Coach's feet were sliding along the grass. The groundskeepers were certainly not going to be his biggest fans as they would again have to repair the turf once he was done. Some of the freshmen began to panic and started to slide off his back. Since his back was now covered in sweat, many simply slid off his torso as if they were riding a slip-and-slide. I remained perched up near his shoulders as he continued. I looked to see his handsome face just a few feet away from he, his head growing and expanding keeping up with the rest of him. At one point he glanced to the side and looked right at me and he gave me a wry grin. “300 reps!” the quarterback shouted. “Fuck Coach, you are growing too big!” A couple of more players shouted in unison. “HAHAHA. NO SUCH THING AS TOO BIG, LITTLE MEN!” I turned around and noticed that I was the last player left perched up on him. I surmised that's why gave me a smile. Coach was now getting so big that I was able to swing my legs around and rest my feet on the top of his pec shelf! I turned to Coach's saucer sled sized ear and spoke, “Keep going Coach! Blow them and everyone out of the water. It's your destiny to be our GIANT!” “OH YEAH, JACKSON, THAT'S WHY I LIKE YOU SO MUCH, LITTLE BUDDY. STEADY YOURSELF, WE'RE KICKING THIS UP A NOTCH!” Coach then nearly doubled his pace. I steadied myself by reaching out a hand and putting it on his thick, taught neck. Up and down he went, his whistle bouncing off the ground at the bottom of every rep. “400, big guy!” Coach continued to swell, thicker, longer, taller, mightier. When coach was at full extension the drop off his shoulder was now nearly 20 ft and I was feeling some vertigo. Way down below the players were again awestruck and Coach's massive chest took up more and more of their vision as it pumped and expanded wider and wider. “STILL WASN'T DONE GROWING BOYS! DON'T KNOW IF I EVER WANT IT STOP NOW! HAHAHA! I LOVE THIS! At 500 reps Coach let himself fall to the ground. BOOOOOOM! The field rumbled as his massive tonnage made contact. The players instantly backed up from the small earthquake he generated. I slid off his sweaty deltoid, coating my back in his musky, salty wetness. Once I had backed away and joined the crowd of players, Coach tilted his head forward and smirked. He slowly put one hand on the ground and began to push himself up onto one knee. On just one knee he looked almost as tall as he had a few minutes ago. He was now far, far, bigger. The top of his kneecap was now nearly twice as high as we were. We only came up to about mid shin on him! If I were behind his leg I would been staring at the biggest, hardest calf muscles imaginable. He slowly extended his leg up to a standing position, the quadriceps muscle flexing and threatening to cover his kneecap with its mass. Up higher and higher he rose as our necks craned further and further back. From his happy smile I could tell he was getting more and more excited as we shrank further and further before him. Finally after what seemed like and eternity he had reached his full height. It looked like he had again doubled his height. I estimated him to be about 50 ft tall now! “MY LITTLE PLAYERS. YOU ARE ALL SO SMALL.” Nobody said anything. “HEHE...OR I GUESS IT'S JUST ME THAT HAS GOTTEN TO BIG!!” Coach stomped his foot down for emphasis and the ground shook. We instinctively cowered. “HAHA! SORRY DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU! I JUST WANTED TO SEE YOUR FACES. KNOW THIS, I WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO ANY ONE OF YOU!” We shook our heads in acknowledgment and relief. Looking around, Coach spotted Jamal. “NOTHING TO SAY NOW JAMAL? WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Jamal nervously stepped forward. “'re HUGE!!! You are like a GOD among us tiny men. I'm one of the biggest linemen on the team and I feel like a mouse next to you.” While grinning down at Jamal coach bounced his pecs and flexed his right arm. “WELL, JAMAL, HONESTLY, YOU ALL LOOK LIKE LITTLE MICE TO ME! YOU BARELY REACH MY CALF MUSCLES! LOOK HOW BIG MY PECS ARE COMPARED TO YOU GUYS! YOU COULD PROBABLY LIVE IN MY BICEPS ITS SO HUGE! LOOK AT THIS MASSIVE ARM!” Coach bragged as he flexed and unflexed his arm. “MY LEGS MUST LOOK LIKE SEQUOIAS TO YOU GUYS! BEING THIS BIG IS AWESOME!!!” Once Coach had finished his self appraisal at his new size he dropped his hands on his hips and proudly stood tall above us. “ALRIGHT BOYS, THAT WAS ANOTHER GOOD PRACTICE. HEAD INSIDE, ANOTHER LIFTING SESSION AWAITS!” **********************************************
  3. Chapter one is here: Chapter two is here: Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Three Lucien waited inside the entrance of The Dungeon at the far end of the gay street. He was dressed in a black rubber shirt with yellow stripes, in a cut which emulated a polo shirt, and he was wearing very tight black, shiny rubber trousers. Football socks on his feet, inside white-laced boots with high bootnecks. He couldn't decide his own state of mind. Not Chad! Eagerness, lust and resentment battled about his mind, the latter already slightly tipsy because of the vodka shots. Not Chad! * * * Back in primary school and secondary school, Chad had made life a hell to Lucien. They couldn't have been more different. Lucien's parents worked with 'something in City', and Lucien took piano lessons. Chad's divorced mother worked in the plastics industry, and Chad – who was a fan of David Beckham and Wayne Rooney – played football. In primary school, the bullying mainly happened outdoors, in the schoolyard. Lucien could remember trousers wet of melting snow, wounds in his palms caused by falling on rubble, and streams of verbal insults. In secondary school, it either happened on his way home or during lunch break. The worst lunch break ever, happened when they were about 14, or so. Chad had dragged him inside one of the loos, dipped his head in the toilet, took his dong out and pissed at Lucien, shouting about 'poofters who don't deserve to live'. Lucien had no idea of why or how things changed after that, but Chad left Lucien alone and more or less avoided him. A few years later, shortly before leaving secondary school for sixth form, they actually had a reasonably good conversation in the school cafeteria. Chad had sat down at Luciens table and apologised for his past behaviour (well, the words didn't fall exactly like that, but that was the content of the message). Chad had hit puberty, then. His pudgy belly had disappeared, but his pug nose was still there. Chad had switched from football to the gym, and achievements were beginning to be noticeable. That didn't change Lucien's resentment, much. When puberty hit him, Lucien could spend late nights fapping at the thought of taking revenge on Chad. At some – undefined – point in the future, Lucien should dare to buy a membership at a gym, and Lucien should grow into a confident muscle monster, which would beat the shit out of Chad and smirk at the weaker Chad lying there in front of him... The undefined point in the future didn't happen. Lucien remained on the slim side, and didn't grow tall. He was still uncomfortable with the thought of weight training, but began to swim at his leisure time. He was now somewhere between the age of 25 and 30, and was writing a PhD in musicology. He spent lot of time in the gay street, and wasn't aware of the other guests, when he entered his usual café – The Chocolate Cave. A rainbow flag hang outside the entrance. He ordered the usual: A café au lait, some petit choux and an apple tart with custard. Most of the customers weren't much of a surprise, he even recognised the faces of some of them: Several pairs and groups of twinks, a bearded activist in flannel from an earlier generation (whom he vaguely knew from committee-work for LGBTQ rights years ago), a group of football dykes, and a very young punk rocker reading a paperback by Judith Butler. He couldn't believe his eyes, when he was looking for a table and heard a voice he hadn't wished to hear: "Oi! Lucien! Over here, mate!" A man his own age waved at him from one of the tables. His broad (and tattooed) shoulders and mighty chest were revealed by the elastic black tank top (with the white print TOP in army letters), and his jeans were faded. The man's head was entirely shaved, and his ears were adorned with several sorts of piercings. Lucien wouldn't have recognised the man, if it wasn't for the voice and the pug nose. It was Chad. Hesitatingly, Lucien sat down at Chad's table. "Haven't seen you for years! What are you doing nowadays?" Chad had to drag the words out of Lucien's mouth, but Lucien told him about musicology and swimming. He didn't say anything about LGBTQ rights, but his thoughts were running in all directions inside his mind: Chad gay? But why did he behave like he did in the past? And why so friendly now? We all grow up. He had began to improve already at age 16, remember? Sexy Chad! "They can research anything, nowadays, can't they? Mu-si-co-logy. Never heard about it before. To me, research is about space rockets and medicine and atoms and stuff, not stuffy old musicians, but if it's up your alley, I don't complain. You like it, I suppose?" Chad emitted the scent of some anti-perspirant and soap. A big black nylon bag – with the letters GASP – laid on the floor close to Chad's adidas-clad feet. Lucien's string of thoughts continued to race: Can't find the old monster sexy! Not a monster any longer. Mature now. Those muscles! The entirely changed appearance! Not a pudgy little bully anymore. Neither a tiny twink of the type he usually dated. THAT'S a man. Can't... Can't... like him. Those eyes... Can't. "And another thing. So sorry about schooldays. I was really, really an idiot. A dickhead actually. So stupid. I'm so sorry. No, I really mean it. So sorry. Why would I have to be afraid of you, when I was, actually, myself, you know..." They continued to talk. For Lucien it was an invasion of his private sphere. An intruder sat in his comforting and familiar café, but what an intruder! When they had finished their coffee, Chad rose and bought them a bottle of low-alcoholic beer, each. "They don't sell anything stronger here. Regulations. I want to buy you something stronger some day. What do you say about a night out, together?" Lucien fell silent for a few seconds. "Don't take my 'yes' as I'm willing to date you, Chad. But yes, a night out couldn't harm. Any ideas?" "I'm not sure, if you have ever attended The Dungeon?" "That's not my usual fare, no. I'm more of a patron of The Rainbow Unicorn in the opposite end of the street. Opposite in two ways, actually." "I went there, once. Not my style. Lot of the stuff, which kept me doubting my sexuality for so long. The Dungeon is more my sort of place. I work there, actually." "Work there?" Lucien couldn't believe his ears. "As a bouncer. They have trouble with people sometimes. Sometimes new customers, who don't know the difference between The Rainbow Unicorn and The Dungeon. Those types I turn down politely, even with some advice how to dress at next attempt. About 50% return, dressed correctly this time. Then there are the anti-gay nutcases, who believe that it will be an easy match to break in, party-crash and beat up a few nellies. They expect nellies – then they encounter me at the entrance. The policemen don't mind if I give the nutcases a thrashing before I turn them over to the police." A familiar smirk at Chad's face. Lucien felt disturbed, but he felt excited, too. Chad with his TOP tanktop, defending twinks from gaybashers... "I haven't been there. How do I dress?" Chad rattled off some instructions, and, at the sound of it, he had done it before: "The club has a dress code. It is open for men who have sex with men, but also to their friends. Not necessary to put labels like 'gay' or 'bi' or such on the place: I don't know how many 'straight-bicurious' I have met there. It isn't a S&M place as such: Lots of members are not into S&M, but some are. Members may like to dress up in gear for several different reasons: For some it is a kink, for some it is a fetish, for some it is just fun, and not far from their everyday style – and they like the type of men who attend the place. Leather is the oldest style in the dress code. Lots of people are vaguely aware of the style... Do you know Tom of Finland?" "I've seen a few pics, but i am not familiar..." Chad's smirk returned. "You ought to be. Google it." Chad's grin became wider. White shining teeth. "That code was invented by queer bikers in the 1950s. Long before gay rights. Think Marlon Brando in The wild one. Old film. Lots of time since then, and the style has changed in many directions. There exist uniform shirts in leather now, for instance. Don't get me started about the jokes about Crisco. Well. Anyhow. Leather is the oldest code now, but there is army style... Anything army-inspired goes, well, not anything, but lots of choices there. Then, there's skinhead style, since at least the 1990s – some would say for longer. More recently guys following the chav or scally dresscode are allowed in... You get the picture, look as butch as possible, like you can take it like a real man, not like the patrons of the Rainbow Unicorn. Sorry. No offence. Well. You get the idea. Guys from the council flats mostly go for the chav or skinhead style, since that is cheaper. Full high-quality leather gear suppose a good salary. And then there's the rubber lads, of course." "Rubber lads?" Chad explained, and noticed with some glee how the older bearded gentleman in flannel at the corner table looked uncomfortable. "Money is not an issue, Chad. I will give you a phone call, when I have bought some appropriate gear." "I will buy you a membership, Lucien. It is the least I can do for you. Call me." * * * That had been two weeks ago. Lucien had unpacked the gear, and arrived to the club wearing it under a trenchcoat. A pre-payed membership awaited him at the entrance desk, which was manned by a mid-30s man with a jarhead cut, dressed in camo pants and an army jersey. The man at the counter forwarded a message: Chad was working until the middle of the night, but had promised to meet Lucien when the other bouncer began his shift. Absent-mindedly, Lucien heard a noice of a road accident from outside, but didn't peek out. A while later, he noticed a strange green light coming out from the windows of the gym across the road, but he didn't give it much of a thought. He couldn't decide his own state of mind. Not Chad! Eagerness, lust and resentment battled about his mind, his mind already slightly tipsy because of the vodka shots. Not Chad! But he couldn't deny that he was falling deeper and deeper in love with his old bully. Chad had changed. Chad was like himself. Chad was defending patrons of The Dungeon against gay-bashers. Lucien eagerly waited for Chad's shift to end, and they were going to explore The Dungeon together. Chapter Four is here:
  4. Chapter one is found here: Professor Schnackenburg's mistake: Chapter Two Cody was the biggest bro at campus, and he knew it. He was tired of the weakling sissies at the college gym, who wanted to 'get some muscle tone' but 'not become too big'. Cody very much disagreed: There was no 'too much'. There was no 'big enough'. Never too much! Never big enough! He had joined The Steel Factory gym outside campus, since it had got the heaviest free weights in town. As he had spread the reputation of The Steel Factory, some of the other students had also began to work out there: Jess, Jill, Jack. And Magnussen. And Tim. He pushed the heavy barbell in a focused and disciplined bench press, and he could feel his blood run to his chest, giving him a bloody awesome pump. Some strange greenish phosphorescent light shone in from the windows, and seemed to lit up the night outside the windows. And thunderclaps. Was it thunder? or northern lights? Or something. He returned to his workout schedule. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. It was rather close to some of the buildings belonging to Arts and Humanities: The archeology students, the literature students, the historians... The only drawback with the location of The Steel Factory was, that the gay street began around the corner, and one gay bar faced the entrance to The Steel Factory. Cody liked to draw attention, but he didn't like to draw attention of gays. He preferred to draw the attention of female students like Jess and Jill. Jess. He became angry again. Jess. She had been his girlfriend for six months. He remembered the scent of her blonde hair, and her enthusiastic screams when he pounded her. Shit. He got a boner inside his training shorts. Well, if anyone commented, they knew he would hit them. He didn't expect anyone to comment. He felt insulted, when he saw Magnussen – the reasonably brawny Danish exchange student – work out with Jess across the room, over at the rowing machines. One day, he would tell Magnussen his mind. One day, he would give Magnussen a real thrashing, and prove who's the Alpha on campus. Jill, the brunette studying pharmacology, was sexy in a shy way, and when she was drunk at a party, she had confessed, that she was turned on by muscle, and she had worshipped him behind a sofa. He wanted to go further with Jill. Or conquer Jess and leave Magnussen in a pathetic little heap of shit, but he had to admit, that Magnussen had a good constitution when he arrived in the beginning of the academic year, and he had to admit, that Magnussen had got some real gains, as the term had went on. Or, he fantasised, he could persuade Jess and Jill into a threesome with him, and leave Magnussen destroyed. Yeah, like a real Alpha. Four boobs on him. Four hands exploring his quads and pecs. Two pussies eager for his Alpha cock. It sounded like a road accident outside the gym. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack, on the other side, was a true friend. A real bro. Someone to rely on and trust. Fucking awesome stud, even if he hadn't got the same gains as Cody and Magnussen. If he and Jack had been gay, Cody had been willing to give head to Jack, but since they both now were straight as an arrow, that would never happen. Jill had called Jack and Cody 'a bromance' a couple of times, what that was supposed to mean. Everyone seemed to like Jack. Cody watched Jack help Tim over at the old fashioned pec-dec machine. Tiny Tim. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Cody couldn't understand why Jack had to drag that little runt to the gym. Tim's presence just delayed their training schedule. Even if he was beginning to get the knack of how the machines worked, Tim hadn't used the free weights much, and he didn't achieve any gains to speak of. Subcutaneous fat was not the problem: Tiny Tim's abs were already visible when Jack brought him to the gym the first time, but it seemed like the shy kid couldn't pack on any brawn. Fuck! The little shrimp was, what was it, 20? But he looked like a scrawny 16 year old. Tiny Tim was dragging Jack and Cody down at the gym, but Cody hadn't been able to persuade Jack to leave Tim at the dorm. Fuck the little bugger. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack went to fetch a glass of water, and left tiny Tim in the pec-dec machine close to Cody. He could hear commotion and kerfuffle downstairs and in the next room. A weird sound like a high-voltage electric current. It almost sounded like the women downstairs came. And men with deep voices having fun. Weird. Ought he to check out what was happening? The attention of everyone else turned to the entrance. Cody had a schedule to follow: Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. He returned the barbell to the rack. In the doorway into this room stood a man... a being... ...who would normally have seemed displaced, since he looked like something out of a sword-and-sorcery film. Normally, a muscular dude wearing a leather harness, a leather jockstrap, furs and boots would look camp and cheesy. Normally. The towering being that gazed at the gym members in the room was beyond normality and beyond everyday life: It exuded power – unlimited physical and supernatural power, and it knew it, as it watched the now shocked gym members. The short hair on its head was a sort of golden blond. Its steel-hard muscle mass bulged in all directions, arrogantly exposing its naked, sun-tanned flesh. It was surrounded by an overwhelming nimbus of martial virtue, masculinity beyond all limitations and an expectation to be obeyed by everyone. Its eyes were ice blue and commanding. Cody's mind began a silent insane ramble: YES! THAT was what he would like to achieve. He had aimed at the impossible: Though he was impressed by bodybuilders from the past, like Schwarzenegger who made all these cool old action films with bad special effects, and though he was impressed by modern mass monsters like Jay Cutler, Justin Compton and Dallas McCarver, he dreamed about going far beyond the results of these men, but he had never been able to visualise his ideal goals in any clear way. Now, the man... the Being... which stood in the doorway, looked like the embodiment of his innermost yearnings and most secret imagination. Cody shivered. Slowly, rational thought crawled through the throbbing, feverish and aroused revelry, which was his inner monologue: What was this man, this Being, this man-god doing at the gym? What was it doing here? How was this in any sense possible? Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Masculinity beyond all limitations. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Cody moaned. He could hear Jack letting out a yelp. Even tiny Tim moaned. The Being did a side-chest. The eyes of all present persons widened. The Being faced Jess and Jill. It made a suggestive thrust of its hips, and the sound similar to high-voltage electricity, that Cody had heard earlier, was repeated. Two currents of unknown and unholy energies emitted from the Being's crotch, zapped Jill and Jess between their legs, and the girls sank down on their training benches, their eyes rolled up in the skull, their bodies spasmodically twitching, and their mouths emitting feminine noises of excitement. The lights in the ceiling went out, but the dim light from outdoor street lamps fell in from the windows. The room became illuminated by a greenish, sort of, phosphorescent light. Cody felt hurt. He, not the Being, was the one who would take Jess and Jill to formerly unknown heights of pleasure. But at the same he was impressed. He wanted to be like the Being, to take part in its power, to share its essence. The Being waved its hand, and the gym disappeared. It felt like a dream. He was outdoors. It looked like a vast natural reserve, the sea not far away. Brooks running through the landscape with fish. Forests, but not very thick forests. Tall powerful men from the past in armed combat. Men like him, or, rather, men like he wanted to be. Loyal friends, protecting each other in battle. Hunters... Oh fuck! Hunters defeating large predators with large teeth with their bare hands... Alpha's of today looked insignificant to these men from the past. And then the sound of waves. Waves rolling in. A wave of water. A... that sort of... a wall of water, what's it called? A tsunami. He was back at the gym. By the look of their faces, his male friends all had seen the vision. Their female friends were still spasming on the training benches. "Men of the younger world." It was the first time the god-man Being spoke since its arrival to the gym. Its voice suited the way it looked: Deep, very deep, resonant. A battle cry and the promise of male voluptiousness. "Men of the younger world. I have shown you the glory, that once was Anghra-Lemur, but which is now The Sunken Hundred. I have returned over the gulfs of time and space. The powers of Anghra-Lemur are rising, and they will leaven the present world, and throw it away. I am the present embodiment of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur. I embody the power of thousand thunder gods. I embody the power of thousand sun heroes. Mine is the war frenzy. Mine is the battle cry. I fill brave men with duty. I fill the humble fighters with courage. I wipe the cowards and the evildoers away. I will allow Anghra-Lemur to rise again, because the time is at hand. But I need the raw material for the new men of Anghra-Lemur. I need those willing and those suitable, to become like the warriors of the forgotten time. My strength will permeate the chosen. My power will pervade the willing. My thew will saturate the suitable, and I will bestow upon them the divine powers of the forgotten god-heroes. I am Kortoth-Gnaah. I am willing to bestow all this." It seemed like all of the men were held under a spell, making it impossible to talk, only to think. The Being turned around, watching all of them. Cody's heart raced. YES! To hell with the bloody modern world. Some sort of Conan-world came crashing in. He couldn't comprehend how or why or what, but he knew one thing: He wanted to be in. Kortoth-Gnaah, wargod of Anghra-Lemur, watched Jack a few seconds. Then he stretched out his big hands in the direction of Jack. A green glow intensified around his hands, and then a powerful beam emitted and engulfed Jack in a sea of green, translucent, crackling power. Jack regained his ability to speak. "FUCK! So good! Can't believe it! Fuck! Look at me! My size! Growing! Can't believe it! Pump! Power! Pleasure! These biceps! Fuck! My traps, my back, my...! Oh! So good! Empower me, Master! Imbue me with... Nnnn. Fucking... Can't... Master... Growing..." Jack's rambling words turned into yelps, moans and grunts as he became taller, heavier and more muscled. Jack tensed, flexed, grew, his eyes staring in disbelief, and clothes from The Sunken Hundred materialising around him." Cody's heart was a sledge-hammer. Fuck, yes. Best friend. Jack. Bro. Becoming like a fucking Conan, a fucking He-Man... No! Far, far beyond those imaginary characters! Bro, becoming... Cody couldn't find words. And soon, Cody thought, it was his turn to receive the same blessing. He shivered. His cock throbbed. He was still pumped from the workout, and his antecipation was growing. Soon. Like Jack. Or The Being. Like Kortoth-Gnaah. Big. Big beyond measure. Jack was still growing beside the water vending, when Korgoth-Gnaah turned his attention to other parts of the room. Cody looked in disbelief, when Kortoth-Gnaah faced Magnussen. No? It couldn't be possible? Not the man who stole Jess from him. The green glow around Kortoth-Gnaah's big hands grew again, and a beam struck Magnussen, who began to grow in the same manner as Jack had done. Magnussen reverted to his native language, which sounded as a string of guttural sounds, which probably fitted the situation quite well. Fuck. He hadn't connected Danes and vikings before, but Magnussen was turning into – perhaps not what vikings actually looked like – but into the popular imagination about them. It wasn't fair. Not Magnussen! Not the one who distract Jess. Jess... She was returning to consciousness, and saw what happened to Magnussen. When the transformation reached climax, she ran to Magnussen, put her arms around his waist, pressed herself close to him, and shouted: "Fill me with your little viking babies!" He would have his revenge. Soon, very soon, their Master would turn his attention in Cody's direction, and he would have the same brutal power, the same strength, or even more of it, and he would show Magnussen who's the Alpha among the Master's housecarls. Soon. Kortoth-Gnaah turned around. He looked in the direction of Cody. Cody smirked. He braced himself. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, but he knew it would be better than anything he could imagine, if the behaviour of Jack and Magnussen was anything to go for. Soon. Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Soon. Steel-hard muscle mass bulging in all directions. Soon. He could see the green shimmer building up around Kortoth-Gnaah's big hands again, as he watched Cody. YES! MASTER! ME! SOON! Masculinity beyond all limitations. Soon! The green flames intensifying. Cody closed his eyes and smiled. Soon. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Soon. Cody swallowed, and braced himself for the incoming impact of the transforming, empowering rush of supernatural force. Soon. Nothing happened, but he could hear the familiar crackling sound of unnameable and unholy power in the air close to his bench. He opened his eyes. NO! Not tiny Tim! Not the shrimp. Not the scrawny hardgainer. Not the little runt. The little runt wasn't a little runt, anymore. A broad-shouldered behemoth bellowed in the pec-dec machine with his legs broad apart. Things didn't go as Cody had expected, and he fell into dark despair: An icy cold awareness arose that he wasn't one of The Master's chosen. Chapter Three is here:
  5. Thedemon1906

    Good Friends

    Hello guys! This is my first story and i didnt wrote it in my native language. Hope it dont suck so much! ------------------------------------------------------------------ “You are in charge of the drinks” they said. “Well i guess i will surprise them” i thought to my self. I nocked the door three times and waited for an answer. “Hey Brian, we were waiting for you” Derek was standing in the door with his muscular 6 feet tall body and that goofy pretty smile that melt me down. I came trough the entranse and saw Lian and Jhon waiting in the couch while Derek close the door. “The game is starting” said lian “come on, sit by my side” and so i did.<br> “What did you brought?” “A beer for all of you and sprite me” Jhon made himself to the bottle and opened with his tooth and pour its content in three different glasses. His big biceps bulge while he did that and thogh he was smaller than Derek and Liam he had still a much bigger body than mine. I pretended to open my bottle and started drinking. As the game passed both , their beer and my sprite, started emptying.<br> As i move my ayes across their faces i could start to see the first changes. Lian ,that has always been a muscular guy, seem now deflated and with all his clothing baggy. His cute curly hair and sexy green eyes where still their but his face has lost masculinity. His prominent jaw has disappeared and his previous two day beard is gone too. Though his pants where loose on his legs, now without any muscle, they where tight in his butt that now is the main feature of his body. He wasnt the only one that has been changing, every one else did in similar ways. Derek had lost all his muscle and was left with a puny little body like mines and Jhone was even smaller, the only thing that wasnt smaller in them was their butts that had grown bigger and more prominent . Though every one has notice it, no one wants to mention it mabye because of shame or mabye because of the tension . On the other hand, I didn’t change like the others. My new acquire muscles mad my shirt stretch to its limits. My biceps had noticeable tear a little bit of the fabric and my pecs stand out like balloons. The jeans that i am wearing bearly resist the size of my new grown legs that push the material outwards making my dick bulge even bigger trough the pants. Finally the bottoms gave up and fly across the room. At these point no one was watching the game. My upper body is completely exposed. Black hair made a trail that passed from my pecs to my abs and downwards. “Wha…what have you done!” Said Derek out loud and then toched his throat when he noticed the high pitch voice that had replaced his old masculine voice. I stand up with my new 7feet tall body and walked confident to him. He had gotten smaller than before and his face barely reached my dick. I opened my enormous hand and grabed him by the hair and pulled him towards my bulge. He started licking my pants , i pushed his face away. “I dont know why im doing this… I AM NOT GAY! … But really need to be filled… FILL ME WITH YOUR DICK MASTER” He pulled my pants and boxers down and a one foot long dick slapped his face. He started sucking it and with a little bit of force his jaw adapted. I put both hand in his head an pulled him deep till he was not able to breath. I started fucking his skull rithmicaly. I could see his face filled with a mix of fear and pleasure. While he was desperately gaging, Josh and Lian had been watching at the same time as they were fingering their asses under their pants. They both stand up timidly and walked towards me. I could feel their hand traveling trough every curvature of my muscles. One on eache side they started licking my abs and tavelled with their tongues upward to my pecs. I felt them suck and lick my nippels that for them to reach they had to clime me and gripe their legs around mine and hold tight to my arms. I felt a wave of pleasure travel trough all my body, i felt dominant. “Turn aroun you little faggot, i will destroy your ass” i said Derek pulled his mouth away of my dick and followed my order showing me his bubble but. I pulled him closer and entered my dick completely as fast as i coul make him cry like a little bitch. I fucked him like a beast not caring about all the pain that i was causing to him. “Ow FUCKING YES” i screamed with my powerful voice as i filled Derek ass whith my juice. I felt everyone of them cum with their small one inch dicks not knowing that they were sealing the spell forever
  6. titan

    Henry - The Beast Within 3

    Henry was shocked and amazed at what was happening to his body. Sure he'd been working out a lot more lately, but this was incredible. He could still taste Pete's load on and was just realizing how much of his muscle juice he swallowed. "Am I growing right now?!" Asked Henry with worry and excitement in his voice. "Yes, yes your are", replied Pete in an excited, matter of fact tone. Henry already experienced his chest filling out and tightening his tshirt around his newly improved pecs. A few seconds later Henry felt the rest of his body surge with ecstasy. It wasn't an organism sensation, but more an endorphin rush after an exhausting workout. He filled out his shorts to the point where his quads were skin tight and the outline of his still-hard cock was extremely evident. "Holy fuck", Henry whispered to himself as he checked out his toned body. "Take your shirt off beast, let's see what we've created" Pete chimed in. Henry peeled off his shirt and was pleasantly surprised with his defined physique. He took off his pants and gave his legs a shake, memsemrized at his calves and quads. "Is this because I ate your load, how is that even possible?", Henry asked. Pete ignored Henry's question. He was enamoured with the idea that he was able to make Henry evolve into a more muscular beast than he was 10 minutes earlier. That turned Pete on like never before - the ability to share his muscle growth with a hot stud and make him grow into a freaky beast. Henry approached Pete standing on the other side of the room. Both men naked and still hard despite already blowing their load. Henry was still awe struck at this muscular god feeding him his muscle juice. "I want more", Henry stated, "I don't care how this is happening, and I want to grow bigger and I want you to make it happen". Pete grinned, "Then let's hit the free weights and push through some more reps." Henry grinned back and locked lips with Pete. Moving his tongue around the muscle studs mouth while he felt up his body. Pete did the same to Henry feeling the muscle he provided. "Fuck my muscle hole", Henry whispered into Pete's ear. Pete grabbed Henry and slammed him against the empty desk in the room. He loosened up Henry's newly thickened ass with his tongue. "Fuck me deep", Henry demanded, "I want to feel all of your muscle cock inside me. Cum inside me. Make me grow bigger." Pete already intended to do both. He slid his powerful cock slowly into Henry's tight muscle hole while Henry squirmed a little and moaned. "Yes, yes, this is amazing" Henry yelled out, "fuck me deep you muscle beast, turn me into a beast like you". Pete obliged and started pounding Henry, flexing his entire body with each thrust. Pete was so turned on, it didn't take him long to cum deep inside Henry. "Fuuuuck yes you beast, take my roided muscle juice". Henry came as soon as he felt Pete unleashed his seed inside him. Pete flipped him over off the desk and aggressively sucked on his juicy lips. He then noticed Henry's massive creamy load all over the desk, and couldn't help himself. He leaned down and licked it up. "Can't waste quality muscle seed" Pete said as he flexed for Henry. "Do you feel any different?" Pete asked Henry, hoping for more muscle growth. "Well my ass if killing me", Henry replied and they both laughed. Then Henry's eyes expressed the same shock and ecstasy he felt before but much stronger. "Woah, I fucking feel it Pete, it's happening again", Henry exclaimed. His defined physique slowly transformed into an inflated jacked junior bodybuilder. "Holy fuck this feels incredible, look at my fucking arms" Henry said as he flexed for Pete. Pete wanted in on the action and started groping Henry softly as Henry continued to transform and grow. Henry stood in front of Pete a full 30lbs heavier, made of pure muscle. The hair alone that sprouted all over Henry's body was enough to make Pete want to cum again. It was in that moment, Pete realized he was growing. "What the hell!" Pete said as he felt his body growing thicker. "Henry, its gotta be because I licked up your seed. Fuck this is amazing. Look at my pecs, look at how thick I am!!", Pete let out a slow intense groan and he flexed to show off his newly earned gains. Cum started dripping from his muscled cock and Henry ran his ring get along Pete's shaft and licked the roided seed so he could grow with his muscle beast. The room was rank with sweaty muscle man musk after their growing and worship session. Both men put on their skin tight underwear since nothing else fit, and made their way across the gym to the locker room. "Look at my abs and chest and traps and arms and fucking tree trunk thighs'" Henry exclaimed as he flexed for himself in the bathroom full length mirror while Pete stood behind him admiring the muscle beast's growth. "You're definitely getting there stud", Pete admitted as he flexed in the mirror. Henry could smell Pete's sweaty pits as he flexed and the taste of Pete's body lingered in his mouth. "Hey Pete, you have to tell me how the hell this is happening, and when we're doing this again!", Henry inquired, hoping his gym crush turned growth accomplice would still want to fuck and workout. "We're working out together every fucking day now", Pete said and laughed, "we just made each other grow and that was the best sex of my life". "If you want to know why this is happening, I'll have to introduce you to Bill", said Pete. "Bill, who is that?" Asked Henry as he continued to flex for himself and smell his own sweaty musk.
  7. I wrote this over email for someone I met online. I suppose it means something more between the two of us, but I'm sharing it here. I've never shared anything before, nor have I commented. I've written a series of these for him, so I suppose I'll post one at a time. Thanks for the indulgence. This is a jump-right-in set of fantasies. He and I met online, and he lives near a large city in Colombia. I live in California. ---- Email 1. Because you had never been to a hotel, I made a reservation at one of the fancy hotels in the downtown. You’ve never seen anything like this, so I made sure it would be memorable. I arranged for a limousine to pick us up – you’ve never had this type of luxury. It’s unfortunate that so many have his daily and don’t deserve it, while you deserve it and have never experienced it. I reserved a suite, with its own private balcony, large bathroom and massive king bed. The bathroom is bigger than your room you normally live in. The views from the balcony overlook the massive pool area and gardens of the hotel. You can’t believe this exists. Since it is Colombia, it’s around 38 C outside with 90% humidity…and you laugh at my inexperience with humidity. I’m sweating a lot, and you suggest that sometimes taking a shower helps. Yes. A shower. That’s what I need…and I get an idea. You told me that you’ve never had a warm shower, let alone a hot shower, so you don’t know how it feels and that it works better than cold water when it’s hot outside. So, I start to strip for the shower – I’m still embarrassed to be naked in front of a living, breathing, moving god of muscle and beauty – and I ask you to join me. I don’t give you a chance to strip. I pull you into the shower, which is exposed to the large balcony and overlooks the massive estate of the hotel. I turn on the water, and you instantly gasp. Warm water starts pouring over you, making your already-tight shirt cling even more handsomely to your pecs and abs. Your pants were gripping to your marvelous butt before, but adding water…it was hard to figure out what’s more tempting: the bulge in the front or the bulge in the back. I start to soap up my body, and quickly realize it’s not fair to not have you wash too. I spin you around, your ass to my quickly hardening dick, and start to grope your lengthening and thickening manhood. I bend over, water dripping from me to you, and ask if I may take off your pants. You moan, flex your cock and start to rip your shorts. Your semi 19 cm python swung free, and let me tear away at the rest of your pants. I move my hands…reluctantly…from your massive dick – now much longer than 19 cm, maybe 23 or 24 cm and at least 15 cm around – to your pecs. I start groping them, so tight and full in your shirt. You start to bounce them, tearing the shirt. I help you by ripping the shirt off your body. Your mass swells and fills up the shower. Seeing so much muscle swell, water dripping off all of the ridges and veins snaking your back, my cock swells up even more. It hurts seeing so much beauty within my grip. I add soap to your body and start to scrub. I want to be gentle, since you turn red so easily, but I want to feel the abrasion of your muscles. There’s nothing as hard as them. You start instinctively contracting muscles wherever I add soap. Your biceps swell larger than 40 cm. Your forearms much bigger than 26 cm. Your chest expands larger than 107 cm. Your shoulders become rounder. Your thighs blow past 70 cm. Your cock must be at least 28 cm. It’s angry and red and covered in veins. Your moaning becomes very loud. I don’t know if it’s because of the warm water, your swelling muscles, your massive cock almost at your pecs, or that you’re with me. You bend over, having more muscle spread wide. I lather up your back. It is nothing but ridges and mountains and valleys of muscle, moving and swelling. You bend over even more, showing how wide your back is and how small your waist is. I lower my hands to put more soap on your lats, waist, and ass. I massage your ass and waist, reaching around to grab your colossal cock. I can’t get my hand around it. You bend over even more. I’m puzzled why you keep doing this. But you soon let me know. You start to back up, pushing your perfect ass up against my dick. I understand now. I start to slowly grind my cock against your ass. It’s not anywhere near your size, but since I’m taller, I can grind down against you. I push it between your ass cheeks, much similar to a hotdog between buns, and you instinctively squeeze. I moan. I’ve never felt something that strong. You moan more, reach around and push my dick into you. You’re so hot. My dick feels like it’s on fire. I push with all my strength to enter you. Your ass is so strong it fights back against my entire body. You start to relax with the flow of water. I bend over, grab your chest, and start to massage your words, abs, arms. I kiss your neck and cheek. I keep pushing and pulling. In and out. In and out. You face me, your dark eyes look into mine, and I kiss you. Your tongue is so hot and strong. You reach up to grab my head, your biceps swell. In and out. In and out. In and out. I can’t handle how hot you are, and I warn you I am going to shoot. You beg me to stay in, and grab my ass. I am pushed further into you, and I shoot. Your prostate is pulsing and your massive 30 cm cock erupts. I can’t keep track of what’s hitting me: cum or water. I keep pushing tho. In and out. The massaging keeps your cum flowing. I feel your legs start to shake, and I grab you before you collapse. We need another shower :). --- Email 2. We had sex two more times in the shower. Well, sort of. You made love to me, and then we mutually sucked each other off. I choked on your swollen 30 cm cock twice, but you insisted that I swallow as much as I could. After all of that sex, we needed to go outside. Both of us are so pale, but I tan better than you, so we both put on sunscreen. You insisted that you put some sunscreen on my ass, even though I didn’t think we would be naked. There were people outside! I am too self conscious to do anything that risky. You also don’t want anyone to see you naked…and I want you naked only for me. I called the pool to see if there were any cabanas available, and there was one! It was rather large, next to the pool, and had coverings on all four sides so that we could have privacy. I booked it immediately. We had three hours to use it…so we had to get down to the pool immediately. For as hot as the day was, there were not a lot of people at the pool. We got to our cabana, and then immediately went to the pool. I’m not too fond of swimming, because I don’t like my body, but your god-like body relishes in the swimming. You strip your pants, and I notice you’re wearing a speedo. Your ass bulges commandingly from the rear, and then there’s your cock. The bulge is obscene. Your balls had swollen as much as your manhood, and it was pushing the pouch down. Anyone can see the thick root of your cock easily. You don’t seem to notice or care – your muscles shone in the sunshine, from the sweat and from the sunscreen. We jump into the pool. No one else is in the pool. Too many people were drinking, dancing, or taking selfies. I’m more comfortable than you in the pool, so you stay in the shallow end and I swim all over the pool. I prefer to swim laps, but I didn’t have my prescription goggles so it made it restrictive. I wasn’t happy with swimming that way, but I made it work. You were a blur, but even in that blur I could see your beautiful face and muscular body. I swim back to you. You smile, grab me under my arm pits, and easily pick me up out of the water. I kick the water, playing and partly scared (I didn’t expect that!), and then you throw me back to the deep end. I shoot out of the water, gasp, and call out “you fucker.” You said “only if you’re good” and giggled. Game on. I dove under water and swam at your legs. I stood up, wrapping your legs over my shoulders, and your crotch in my face, and I stand up. You immediately start to worry, because you’re out of the water! I walk around, holding you up this way, and ask you “is this being good?” and start to kiss your cock bulge. You start to moan and then tell me to stop – people will look. I comment that they won’t, since they’re all playing on their phones or drunk. You look around, and notice it’s true. I keep sucking. Your cock stretches more and more, and eventually your speedo breaks. I saw this happening, so I wasn’t surprised when your cock slapped me upside the head. Not going to lie, it really stung. I’m not sure, but it’s feeling thicker than the 15 cm girth and 30 cm length. How you keep becoming more massive, I do not know. I suck on your balls, with your cock hanging on my face and onto my head, and your moaning is getting loud. I feel your balls pull up and start exploding, a fourth time in under an hour, adding more godmade sunscreen onto both of us. Your scream made someone call out, from somewhere and sounding very drunk, “what’s going on?” I got scared and dropped you into the pool. You gasped at that when you came back up, and it was your turn to call me a fucker. I pointed at our cabana, tugged on your 32 cm cock, and said “only if you’re a good boy.” You smiled. --- Email 3. I run and grab your towel to attempt to cover you up as we head back to the cabana. Not going to lie: it was very difficult trying to cover you up. Whatever has been making your muscles grow has made you waist smaller and your penis, now only semi-hard, was pushing 25 cm straight to the side. Watching you walk was amusing to say the least – it looked like you injured your leg…until you notice that massive third leg pushing to the left. We get back into the cabana and you toss away the ridiculous towel. I scold you for being messy, and hang the towel on your cock. You laugh, making it bob up and down. I pull you into the cabana and close the coverings. From the inside it seems rather bright, but having been at the pool noticed you can’t see much of what goes on inside. Probably a lot more alcohol and selfies, based upon the tourists. There are blankets and towels everywhere in the four-square meter space. I had other ideas. I had been pondering why you are getting so much bigger, so much more manlier. Exercise wasn’t entirely doing it – the sex alone should have made you three times the size you are – and it’s not food. Ever since visiting you I notice you don’t eat as much as I think you should. But, since I was trained to think as a scientist, I had a possible cause. I don’t know how it works, but first thing is I must test it. Looking at you, I see how the sun makes a halo around your body. Your pecs, at least 115 cm, look black compared with the light shining around your shoulders and biceps. Your face is hidden, although I’m sure your gorgeous eyes are smiling as big as your mouth is. I had you your glasses, and I grab mine, and we see each other. You are magnificent. God himself couldn’t have made someone so beautiful, so perfect looking, so wonderful, so sweet, so handsome, so charming. I ask you to crawl over to me, and I lie down. I notice that, as you crawl over me, your penis is hard again. I can’t see past it’s profile: it’s so long, so thick, so massive, I can’t see your face or insanely broad chest. I keep my eyes closed and take my glasses off. Then your testicles come into view, and they are bigger than they were. I swear they’re at least 5-7 cm in diameter. How did they get bigger? Just, damn. I can hear more cum being made inside of them – and they must be churning so much testosterone that it keeps that immense log of manhood erect. You sit on my chest. I feel a bit more mass – you are heavier than you were in the pool. I start rubbing your chest and abs. Your six pack is now feeling like they might be eight. Your body is just so hard. Pushing my hands are feeling friction against your skin and muscles – there’s no fat to be found. I only feel striation and veins. The veins are so thick and hot. Your balls push onto my neck, and they’re so heavy I need to try to swallow and breathe. Your cock blocks both of my eyes from seeing you. I keep feeling your muscles, and I slowly start licking your cock. I feel it swelling up thicker with my tongue. My arms swing down and start to feel your thighs. I know the names of every muscle in the thigh. I can feel every muscle, swelling, rippling, generating tens of degrees Celsius. It’s so hot being placed between them. I’m sweating, and it’s slicking them up. I try to reach around and grab you ass. It’s so thick. It’s so hard. It’s so tight. Even with your ass spread open, I can feel your muscle pushing your hole closed. I feel it. So smooth. You giggle at the sensation – is your voice deeper? I might be hearing things. I go back to your thighs and calves. I had not noticed your calves before, but they’re wide and thick. I notice the veins crossing over the back of the swollen muscle. It must also be at least 30 cm around of hard man muscle. You give a loud gasp followed by a deep, sensual moan. As I rub your calves I feel something push against my chin and I feel a cool sting to my forehead. What’s that? Your balls feel like they pulled up and hit my chin…but they’re still crushing my throat. They’ve swollen bigger. That cool sting happened again, but I feel it moving on my forehead. I open my eyes to see your cock – no, a pillar of manliest muscle and fuckhood – standing straight up. It’s almost at your chest, and precum is dripping off it like I just came. I was right. Praising and worshiping your body makes you bigger. I can’t handle this. This defies anything that should make sense. I grab both hands and try to grab your mancock – both hands do not go all the way around it – and I start jerking it. It’s so difficult; the friction is giving my hands blisters. My forearms are burning, as are my arm and shoulder muscles. I cough from your balls bouncing up and down on my throat. I scream your name, acknowledging your body above all others. Your beauty above all others. I want my god to show me his muscles. You give me a double biceps pose, and I see your biceps swell up in size, peaking higher than your shoulders. Your triceps push down. Your forearms swell more. Your lats push outwards. Immediately you move into a most-muscular, where your traps build up higher towards your ears and your chest balloons. Holding onto your cock, you flexed it and pulls me upwards. You tell me to back away as you grab it with your two hands and jerk as hard as you can. I stand up as best I can in the cabana, I bend over to tickle your balls – each the size of an orange – and I gently lick your cockhead. I tickle under neath its flaring sides. You can’t handle it. I can feel, since I’m pressed against this 40 cm monster, waves of contraction move from the base to the head, and you cum again. You hit the top of the cabana and dent it. There is so much cum that it starts flowing over the edges and onto the concrete. You are moaning and screaming as your cock pulses, jet after jet, for two minutes? Three minutes? I don’t know. I’m swimming in your cum and sweat. I’m covered in cum and sweat from your body heat. Once it starts to slow down, you look down at me. You smile with your beautiful, chocolate, love eyes, and I whisper “fuck me.” --- Email 4. I was torn when I saw your massiveness: I know I want you to fill me physically as much as you do with love, but I also knew…I don’t know how this would work. Your cock, at least 40 cm pulsing, would tear me apart. I might not make it. I was willing to try it, because, it’s you. Looking into your beautiful eyes I knew you would not hurt me intentionally. To give me a chance, I ask you to calm down. You awkwardly lower your body – you’re so much bigger than you were, it’s stunning – and sit next to me. In order to calm you down, I start asking you about your mom, to make sure she’s ok. Your face changes, it softens, namely because I know that you have a special place in your heart for her. Her medications are helping her out, but they are just so expensive. I hold your hand during this. You’re not sure what to do. I see tears welling up in your large chocolate eyes. We will make this work. We will make this work. So quickly for your size, you grab me and give me a big hug. For being so hard and muscular, you are so soft and warm. I kiss your cheeks, then rub away your tears. You open your mouth to speak, but I immediately put my fingers onto your lips – those large, succulent lips – and tell you “shh.” Your eyes remain locked onto mine. I move my fingers, and replace them with my lips. Your lips are so soft. I caress the back of your head as you pull my body into yours. I push my tongue into your mouth. You taste even better than your cum does, and your cum is delicious. I continue to make out with you as you slowly lower me down onto my back. We found a spot not still dripping with your cum. Feeling your back move as you move me – it’s just so thick and hot – as I then move my hands around your neck – it’s maybe 35 cm, and barely visible near your insanely huge traps – to your waist, which is so small, and I’m getting aroused again. At times I wish I were growing like you, so I could please you the way you please me. Based upon how you kiss me and caress me and gently handle me, I think you are quite pleased with me. I feel you start to rub your soft cock near my ass. I had slowly been practicing being stretched by you – your girth is so much bigger than my sad looking penis, at times I feel like a child next to you – but even what I’m feeling next to me is somewhat scary. You start rubbing my ass, massaging me to make my hole relax, and continue to kiss me. Your lips are just so soft. After a few minutes of relaxation, you ask me if I’m ready. You push your soft cock – it’s “only” 22 cm at this point and around 10 cm around – in as gently as you can. I’m trying to relax, but even soft you’re so hard. You keep pushing. 5 cm in. 10 cm in. 15 cm in. 20 cm in. I can’t believe that much has been pushed in. You then, slowly, pull all 20 cm out. As you do that, I feel you starting to thicken up. Your erection is coming back. The stretch is painful, but having something that large rubbing against my prostate is unlike anything I have ever felt. I cum immediately. I cum a lot for me. It hurts. You smile, and rub the cum into my abs then start licking your hands. You slowly push the hardening and thickening 27 cm back into me, the friction requiring you to use your strength to overcome the resistance of my body. You pull back out, thickening even more – 13 cm around – lengthening even more – 31 cm. The sensation is unlike anything anyone could describe. My prostate is always being activated by your passive cock. I feel like I have a piece of shit in me that keeps getting bigger and bigger. I look and I can see your bulge inside of my abdomen, as you push back in, swell up even more, and pull out, swelling even more. You continue to kiss my face, rub your arms against my much inferior chest and arms, and I continue to feel your back, your ass, your chest, your arms. My god you are so perfect. You pull almost all 37 cm out – the pressure relieve is amazing – you leave your massive, 6 cm long head in, which is probably 17 cm around by now. You ask me to tell me I love you, and I do. You push all the way back in. I erupt again. And again. It’s too much for me. I am shaking so much that the cabana itself is shaking. You can hear others wondering what we’re doing – stupid drunk tourists – but I don’t care. Your moans were getting louder. After you bottomed out – I felt your balls slap my ass hard – you continued to grow. I felt your cock get even harder inside me. I felt it thicken inside me. I’m pretty sure there should be structural damage inside me, but I don’t feel any pain. Nothing but pleasure. You pull out, slowly, moaning so loudly that others start to giggle at figuring out what we’re doing. Your cock thickens even more as you pull out. It lengthens as you pull out. You keep just the tip in, and use just that to keep fucking me. Just those 10 cm, back and forth, in and out. It tickles so much I cum again. I start masturbating your cock. It’s at least 45 cm if not more. It’s at least 26 cm around – that’s your old forearm width! You start to shake, and I know I can’t handle if you came inside me. That might cause harm. You know that, too, and pull all the way out. Oh my god the relief. You immediately push your cock down into the towels and wooden structure of the cabana, and your God cock breaks the bottom of the cabana. YOU BROKE THE CABANA WITH YOUR COCK. Your roar shakes everything around, and you release again. The blast was so powerful it pushed you back into the cabana, ripping the bottom even more. Cum shot out around three meters everywhere underneath the cabana, and it continued to pulse inside. Five shots took out one of the railings and it collapsed on top of us. You keep cuming. It hits a cabana four meters away. Your cum hits the concrete and makes another pool. You cum and cum for the next five minutes, bathing everything in your manjuice. Guys who didn’t look gay started running over and drinking your cum. Drunk women started using it as lotion. The hotel staff wanted to take their clothes off and masturbate. It was a sight to see – I had found my glasses. You were on your back, erupting like a fountain. If it weren’t for the fact that that we were elevated we might have drown in the cum. Eventually, you stopped. People were in a frenzy, and no one noticed us. I couldn’t walk from the ass pointing you gave me, but I could sit up. I got a glimpse of you before your erection went away. Your cock was 50 cm long at least, your balls the sizes of melons. Your chest, biceps, triceps, forearms, quads, ass, calves, neck, lats, all had grown. It was too much to take in. You pick me up, kiss me gently, with your cock slapping me on my side, and ask me if we should retire to the room. I said yes, falling asleep in your arms.
  8. bbmikenj

    Dork to Beast, pt 3

    Two days had gone by since Danny had given Dwayne the supplement he got from his trainer Ivan. It was still early in the morning, and Danny was working out in the garage. He had promised Ivan he wouldn't lift weights while Ivan was visiting Poland, but he hadn't promised not to pump up everyday, so he'd been busy doing handstand pushups, bending rebar, breaking lumber and crushing brick. He'd just finished his 6th set of deadlifting the front of his dad's Range Rover, when he got a text from Dwayne. "Dude, that stuff u gave me is kickn in," he wrote. "I woke up at 6 this morn and went for a run. A run, man, and no one was chasing me. I ran all the way to the city park." "Isn't that like 5 miles from ur house," Danny answered. "Yeh and I didn't even get winded. U know that fitness trail at the park?" "The one with chinup station and monkey bars, shit like that? Yeh I know it." "I hit that thing like an American Ninja. I did 40 chinups. Remember how many I could do in PE?" "5?" "3. Sometimes only 2. And even they were bad ones kicking my legs all over. Everyone mocked me. Now I fly thru the monkey bars. I'm stoked man, that stuff is legit." "Told u" "Yeh but now I'm insane hungry. Meet for food?" "OK, how bout McDonalds there by park?" "OK, but shouldn't we be eatin lean or oatmeal or something?" "Yeh probably but it doesn't seem to matter. C u there." Danny got the keys to his dad's car and headed out. He wasn't supposed to drive the Rover, but what was the old man gonna do, spank him? Danny chuckled at the thought. He pulled into McDonald's and saw Dwayne waiting outside in a sweat-soaked running shirt and cargo shorts. "Hey, man," Danny said as he got out. "Dude," said Dwayne, "you got no neck anymore, you're just huge traps clear up to your ears." "Yeah, I was doing deads with the truck, it swells up my back and traps pretty wicked." "This truck?" "Yep." "Geezus, man," said Dwayne as they headed inside. "What's in your gym bag?" "My mass gainer shake. I'm gonna have it with about ten McMuffins." They got their food then sat down at a table. Dwayne said, "Did you see the way that cashier was checking you out?" "Nah, man, I thought she was looking at you. You're looking jacked." "I know, right? Look at my forearms." Dwayne held out his arms, his palms upward. Veins were showing all over the underside of his forearms. "Any maybe you're right, she was looking at me. I noticed it at the park, too, girls looking me over with that 'look'. Some guys too." "Get used to it, bud, I get it all the time now." "Well, yeah, you. Look at you in that stringer. I never had anyone look at me with hunger in their eyes before." Danny was already through with half his McMuffins, and was now downing his mass gainer. He saw Dwayne looking at him, and he said, "It all turns to muscle. It's crazy. I had 3 large pizzas and a gallon of this gainer shake last night around midnight." "It doesn't bloat you up?" "Yeah, fiercely for awhile. Take a look," said Danny, pulling up his tank to show his gut, bulging out like a balloon, the skin stretched tight, but with abs ridges making his stomach look like a tortoise shell. "I shaved it down this morning. Wanna touch?" "God yeah," said Dwayne, coming around the table and laying his hand on Danny's muscle gut. "Holy shit, dude, it's like a Buddha belly, except hard as marble!" Dwayne rubbed his hand on the smooth hard mound. "Yep. Except in about two hours it'll be flattening out and I'll be starving again." "My hunger's been thru the roof too, and I've never been much of an eater." "You know what else?" said Danny, "Your skin's all cleared up, too." Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Danny couldn't help but notice Dwayne's complexion, which was smooth and healthy looking. He had always had a lot of skin problems. "You're actually kind of a looker now." "Shut up," said Dwayne, going back to his seat. "You're right though, all my zits cleared up almost overnight." "Hey, I heard from Ivan last night on WhatsApp. He's taking another week over there, to go to Russia. He might be getting a supply of something new." "Stronger than the stuff we got now??" "Not sure. Guess we'll see." They finished eating, and headed out of the McDonald's. When they got outside, Dwayne said, "You want to go check out the fitness trail at the park?" "Sure." "We'll see if I can beat you on some of the stations," said Dwayne. "Yeah, ya think? Think you can beat these?" Danny flexed his arms, his biceps rising into mountainous peaks. A car that was pulling into the parking lot rear ended another car. "Dude,"said Dwayne, "your arms just caused an accident!" Danny laughed. "I think you're right. Let's go to the park. You wanna ride?" "Nah, man, let's run. It's less than a mile. I'll race ya." "You're on," said Danny, and the two friends started running up the hill that led to the park. Danny couldn't believe how fast Dwayne was. It was like he was racing the Flash. By the time Danny got to the hilltop park, his smaller friend was resting on a bench. "What took you so long?" chided Dwayne. "Very funny, pip-squeak. I'd a beat you if I didn't have 150lbs more muscle to schlep." Danny went over to the back of the bench, picked it up and tipped it up until Dwayne fell off of it. Dwayne landed on the ground in a heap, but he wasn't hurt. He looked at Danny in awe. "Man, that bench is made of must weigh 450lbs! . "Does it?" asked Danny. "Doesn't feel that heavy," and he pressed the bench up over his head and started pressing it for reps. "Fuck," said Dwayne, watching his huge friend from the ground. Then he said, "Geezus man, your legs..." Danny tossed the bench behind his head where it landed on the grass and sank in about a foot. He looked down and saw that the run up the hill had bloated his legs full, and had brought out a whole new level of vascularity. His massive quads were covered with them, snaking in and out of thick layers of muscle, and his big calves each had a garden hose sized vein running across the outside sweep. "Hoo yeah!" said Danny, bringing his right foot up and flexing his calf. The thick muscles bulged outward, shifting the vein to one side as it swelled. "Let's skip the fitness trail, and go into the woods behind the park. I'm feeling like I could uproot a tree or two," said Danny. They crossed thru the park along the jogging path. Almost every jogger they passed turned back to get a second look at the two young friends. One guy looked for so long, he ran into a tree. Dwayne went back to help him up. "My friend is so huge, it's hard not to look, isn't it?" Dwayne said to the guy as he got him back on his feet. "He is yeh, but I was looking at you. You're jacked up so lean and hard. You look real strong for your size." The guy jogged off, embarrassed but unharmed. Dwayne stood there for a second, stunned. No one had ever complimented his physique. "Dude, come on," yelled Danny. "Did you hear what that guy said?" asked Dwayne as he caught up. "Yeah, I heard. You got him all atwitter inside, stud." "I did, didn't I?" The two of them headed into the woods, with Dwayne walking with an exaggerated swagger like Vince McMahon heading to the ring. They made their way thru the trees, until they came upon a stand of birches. "Think I could rip one of these outta the ground?" asked Danny, stripping off his stringer tank and tossing it to the ground. "Just one? Why don't ya try two at once, ya cocky brute." "Yeah? You wanna see cocky?" Danny found two birches, about five feet apart, and stood in between them. He reached out his arms and grabbed their trunks, one in each hand. He tightened his grip around the trees, each trunk about 20 inches in circumference, his meaty fingers crushing into the crunchy bark and almost reaching completely around the trunks. He squeezed harder, adjusted his stance, and began to lift. Muscle all over his body tightened and clenched, and his nostrils flared, as he lifted upward with his huge arms. The leaves on the two trees started shaking, and more bark flaked off as Danny's powerful grip dug in. Dwayne heard the ground start to rip around the base of the trees. "Dude...." he said in awe, as his Herculean friend began to force the tree trunks upward, inch by inch. Danny grunted deeply with each effort to lift the trees more. Thick veins popped out on his neck and across his chest and delts, and down his big arms. He threw his head back and his neck bulged like a column of sinew. The trees lifted higher. The ground around them tore apart faster as Danny lifted them up, up, up. He shook the trees back and forth, freeing the roots from the earth. Finally, he ripped them free of the ground and held them midair like two trophies. "Dude..." said Dwayne, leaning against the trunk of a third tree."You a freak..." Danny let the tree trunks go so that they both fell behind him with a crashing thump. "Yep," he said brushing his hands together to knock off the bark flakes. Sweat rolled down his thick muscles, dripping to the ground. His huge barrel chest heaved in and out. "You got me all riled up now, man," said Dwayne. "I got to try something myself." "You gonna try to rip up a tree?" "Nah, I ain't no rhino like you. But I've been watching mma vids, and I've been aching to test out a roundhouse kick." Dwayne was already circling a birch tree. Not as big as the ones Danny had taken on, but not a sapling either. He squared himself up to it, then swung his leg into it, whacking the trunk with his shin. The tree snapped in half, the top part toppling down next to the two trees Danny had uprooted. "Aw, yeh!!" growled Dwayne. "Man, didn't that hurt your shin?" "The weird thing is, it didn't. I felt it, but it's not like real pain. I've been kicking and punching stuff at home, like walls and columns, and it doesn't hurt me." With that, Dwayne stripped off his running shirt and flexed into a most muscular pose. "Man, you are definitely jacked up! You look like Conor McGregor without the ink!" "Who's that?" said Dwayne, looking down at his newly sinewy arms. "You've been watching mma stuff and you've missed McGregor? You gotta look him up. Fuck, you could probably take him if you can snap a tree in two with one kick." "I doubt that, but I am starting fighting lessons at that UFC gym downtown tomorrow. I met the manager who thinks I have potential." "You definitely have that. Flex your arms for me." Dwayne grinned and lifted his arms into a flex. "Man, you got peaks! I bet those things are 16 inches of pure muscle." Danny reached out and put one hand on each of Dwayne's arms. He squeezed them. "Fuck, dude. They don't even dent." "Oh come on, those sausage fingers of yours can't dent my little arms? Squeeze harder." Danny crushed down on the biceps, digging his big thumb into the belly of the muscles. "They're like rock," he said. "This isn't hurting you at all is it?" "Nah, man. I feel it, but it sorta feels good. it's kinda fucking turning me on." Danny lifted Dwayne up off the ground by his two arms. Dwayne smirked. "Awww, yeh man. Harder!" Danny walked with his friend in the air, over to an oak tree, and pinned Dwayne high up against the trunk. His crotch was even with Danny's face. "You ever have a bj, Dwayne?" "Heck no man, you know I've never had sex yet. Neither have you." "Let's change that," Danny said, and he started unzipping Dwayne's cargo shorts with his teeth by biting down on the tab and sliding Dwayne higher up the tree. "Oh god yeh,"groaned Dwayne. Not only had his muscles gotten bigger and harder, so had his cock. Thicker too, and able to muscle its way out of his pants and plop onto Danny's face. Danny took it into his mouth. He'd never given a blow job, but he figured there couldn't be that much to it. He just started sucking and bobbing, while pinning Dwayne's arms against the tree. Dwayne arched into his big friend's face, as a feeling of total ecstasy flushed thru his body. Nothing had ever felt so good. "Goddammmm," he grunted over and over. "GodDAMMMM>" It didn't take him long to bust like a fountain down Danny's throat. Danny took it all like a seasoned pro. It was like being force fed a protein shake, so he continued to milk his friend until he was totally dry. Then he lowered Dwayne to the ground. Both of them were a little lightheaded. They laid down on the mossy ground, both smiling like deflowered virgins. "You want payback?" Dwayne asked Danny. "Eventually," said Danny,"but now I have to get going, I'm running late." "For what?" I have to drive out to the university. I have an appointment with the wrestling coach." "You're going to try out?" "Yep. And I'm going to make a deal with the coach. I'll be his heavyweight champ, but only if I get to use Jack as my training partner." "Dude, that's too wicked good," said Dwayne, getting to his feet and zipping himself up. "Definitely let me know how that goes."
  9. ploder4

    brothers My Twin Is His Own Man

    PREVIOUS REFERENCE: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  10. ‘Where exactly did you hear about this guy Clyde? I don’t feel comfortable going to someone I have never met before in my life.’ ‘Don’t worry about it Melvin, I was reassured by Elliott that he was legit. I mean he used to be like us: small, feeble, and unable to defend himself against anybody. Now he is insanely big and looks absolutely gorgeous. Nobody picks on him anymore and a lot of the women are fawning over him. In fact, they have been fighting each other since they laid eyes on him.’ ‘Fine, but the instant I get a bad vibe there, I am out of that building.’ The two scrawny college-aged men arrive at the facility they were told about from their college friend and immediately begin to scope out the surroundings. ‘Are you kidding me Clyde? This place is on the outskirts of town in a scary neighborhood. Why the hell would he have an office here? I mean…..’ ‘Shut up Mel and just go inside the front door, okay. Remember you said you would give him a chance right?’ They both go in and notice that there is no receptionist, just a handful of chairs located on the left side of a door. They both look around and continue to banter back and forth about trivial stuff that really has very little to do with anything in particular. The side door opens and a well-dressed, red-skinned, black-bearded stud stands in the doorway. He grins at them before he speaks. ‘You must be Clyde and Melvin right? Yeah, your friend Elliott has told me about both of you. Why don’t you come in and have a chat with me?’ Clyde walks slowly into the next room while Melvin doesn’t budge. Clyde turns around and makes a mean face at him before cocking his head in the direction of the red-skinned man. Mel snarls and follows behind. They both take seats in front of a desk while the man goes to sit behind it. The room looks extremely clean with shelves of books just like you would find in a law firm. They both look at each other and their eyebrows rise. Clyde speaks. ‘So are you a lawyer or something? We were told that you did favors for people, it doesn’t seem like a lawyer would do this kind of work.’ The man chuckles a bit before looking in the nerdy man’s direction. His crystal blue eyes sparkle as he flexes his well-toned muscles on the table which bulge against the crisp white shirt and black tie he is wearing. Both of the young men swear that they heard a seam rip as he does this. The man sits back in his chair and undoes the first button to show off the thick black fur just beneath it. Clyde is mesmerized by the man’s skin color and is trying to figure out how he could look like that. ‘Uhhh…..I would like to ask you a personal question. How did……’ ‘I was born this way Clyde,’ the man interrupts before he even gets the words out. ‘I am actually from a family of four men with the exact same skin color. Two of my brothers are doctors, I am a therapist, and my other brother is a judge. We all try to make the world a better place of course, but it doesn’t come freely. Let me introduce myself, my name is Abel Darkori. I am a licensed medical therapist who turns people’s lives around. I like to think of myself as a fulfillment specialist. I help you reach your potential by unlocking it from your soul.’ ‘WHOA! Clyde I don’t like this one bit. I am leaving!’ Melvin proceeds to get up, but Clyde stops him. ‘SIT DOWN MEL! I came here to make a change and I intend on doing it as soon as possible. You and I both know we can’t go back to that school like this. Those assholes have put us in the hospital too many times. Let’s just hear what the man has to say before we make any rash decisions, okay?’ Melvin groans as he slouches in his chair and looks away from Abel. The well-built therapist gets up and walks behind them before putting his hairy red arms on the sides of the chair behind their heads. He tenses his forearms as they strain against his shirt. Clyde’s eyes lock on to them as he tries to control himself. He feels his crotch jump a few times before his face blushes. The therapist smiles before he speaks again. ‘It is okay to be skeptical Melvin. This is a decision you can’t take lightly. Your friend Elliott was equally concerned about being here. I’m not sure how long you have known him, but he did once look like you and also spoke of the hardships that you and Clyde are talking about. I am positive you will not feel the same way after you leave this place today guys.’ Abel takes his hands off both chairs and moves directly in front of the two young men. He sits on the front part of his desk and kicks his dress shoes off being letting out a big sigh. He turns to grab two folders and gives them to Clyde and Melvin. ‘Open these up guys and read the form inside carefully. Once you are done I want you to tell me exactly what you are thinking. This is entirely confidential and won’t leave this room.’ Clyde immediately skims over the information while Melvin sits there staring at the words and groaning. Abel can see that this will require a bit of effort to get the uninterested young man to cooperate. He turns his attention back to Clyde since he knows that he is having a lot more success with him. The therapist grabs two pens sitting beside him and hands them to both men. Clyde starts to put his signature on the line at the end of the contract, but Abel stops him. ‘Whoa there Clyde…..don’t be too hasty. You did notice in the last paragraph there that you must give up a part of yourself to fulfill yourself did you not?’ He turns to look over at Melvin who is shaking his head. The red-skinned therapist knows he will need to convince him that he won’t regret this as he attempts to explain to Clyde what his true calling is. He turns his attention back to the much more receptive young man. ‘Clyde, are you willing to give up a part of yourself to me? What I mean is… must be open to being a part of the Fire Guild just like your friend Elliott accepted. I gave him the same option I am giving both of you to turn around and walk away. The guild is made up of young men like yourselves who were treated poorly by others and have fulfilled their destiny through physical means.’ ‘I am willing to take the chance, Elliott told me a lot about the guild and it sounds like heaven to me.’ Melvin groans again and attempts to badger Clyde. ‘What are you thinking Clyde? The Fire Guild? This doesn’t sound good at all. I am starting to think this is the stupidest thing I could have ever been a part of in my life. I am going to go outside and call a cab you are out of your mind.’ Before he can even get out of his chair to put the folder down, Clyde signs the contract which makes Abel put his arm out to stop Melvin in his tracks. The therapist takes the folder out of Clyde’s hands and puts it on the other side of his desk. He takes his pen and does the same with it. ‘Have a seat Melvin, I know you are quite skeptical of all of this but your friend has decided to take the risk and won’t regret his decision. *gets up from the desk* Let me go into the bathroom over here so I can get the process started.’ When he goes into the side bathroom, Melvin tries to go out the same door he came in and realizes it is locked. He gets irritated and sits down on the floor located beside it. Abel comes back in wearing only his black briefs which gets a big moan from Clyde who immediately stares at his gorgeous hairy red muscles as they glean in the sunlight. The man’s massive tree trunks do little to conceal the thick hose that bulges in his underwear. He returns to the same spot on his desk where he was before and looks directly at Clyde who is now completely transfixed on the well- built man’s tempting body. ‘It is time to move on to the next step Clyde. Don’t be shy if you feel the need to be involved in what happens next. I am currently in the process of fueling my brain with the necessary formula that will be used to continue the transformation sequence. Let me pull these briefs off before it gets too messy.’ Abel sheds his briefs as a stream of precum dangles from the head of his thick red rod. Clyde’s breathing intensifies greatly as he feels his own brain being stimulated. Melvin watches from behind as he trys to hide his own bulge. The therapist kicks his briefs to the side as he moves over to touch the college student’s head with his cock as precum coats the side of his face. ‘You can go ahead and taste it Clyde, it isn’t the final product but you can still feel a nice rush go straight to your brain.’ The young college student’s eyes are now quite fixated on the bloated rod as he moves his head back to where the cock points directly at his mouth. Abel grunts a few times as his balls appear to be expanding. ‘Ohh yes Clyde…..that is exactly what you should be doing. I can feel my cock transforming into its full size.’ Abel’s cock swells as the veins stretch to accommodate the 12x12 shaft. His piss slit gapes open as a flood of precum begins dumping onto the floor. Clyde reaches out to feel the enormous shaft in his hands before placing two fingers into Abel’s slit. The therapist smiles as he feels his balls stretching his red skin to its limits as they turn to a blackish color. ‘Go ahead and fuck my slit with your fingers Clyde and taste the goo. It feels so soothing after building up so much pressure down there. It doesn’t take too long before it decides to unload so don’t wait too long.’ Clyde runs his fingers along the inside of the therapists bloated shaft and realizes he can slide them all the way in. He feels the river of precum being pumped past them as he finally pulls them out. Abel grunts as two massive strands of the goo follow Clyde’s fingers to his mouth. Melvin lightly moans to himself as he sees his friend lick both of his fingers. He moans tasting the sweet mixture which sets his brain on fire. He nearly passes out from the rush as he involuntarily reaches for the monster shaft with both hands and starts stroking it rapidly. The therapist’s breathing intensifies as his mammoth cock flings rivers of precum all over Clyde’s face and shirt. ‘Good job Clyde. Are you ready to fulfill your destiny? It is going to be quite messy so don’t worry about what happens next. In a few minutes you won’t care either way.’ Abel’s giant pole starts contracting as the cum starts to drown the young man in his chair. It also flies into the air and hits the wall directly behind him. Melvin scoots out of the way so he doesn’t get hit with it. The therapist rears back on the desk to let the flow continue as it envelopes Clyde completely. After releasing nearly a gallon of the white river, it stops pumping cum and retreats back to its original shape on Abel’s body. Clyde sits motionless in his chair which worries Melvin who jumps to his feet to go over to his close friend. The red-skinned man stops him from moving any closer to him as he grabs his arm to prevent him from touching the cocooned student. ‘STOP MELVIN! You haven’t signed the document yet, if you were to touch him, you would be in a lot of trouble.’ After a few seconds, Melvin can hear Clyde breathing again as the cum absorbs through the fabric of his clothes and burrows underneath his skin. As it does this, the college student starts swelling as his muscles all begin growing all over his body. The popping sounds are followed up by a lot of creaking and stretching as Clyde moans deeply feeling himself changing from the inside out. His loose khakis and polo struggle to deal with the mass that is quickly filling up every single centimeter underneath the fabric. He is not in agony and is completely embracing the whole transformation as Melvin notices his good friend’s head and face are getting quite muscular as well. Abel moves away from Clyde to give him more space as the young college student grunts when the buttons on his shirt fly off and his engorged new pecs explode out the front as seams and fabric shred within seconds. The space in his chair fills just as quickly as Melvin notices a massive roadmap of veins running up and down his friend’s arms as his biceps, forearms, and triceps appear to be doubling up on each other. The massive bulbous shaped muscles stretch his skin to his limits as his legs make quick work of his pants. The seams echo around the room as his bloated tree trunks massacre every square inch of them as the chair he is sitting in begins to struggle against how wide he is getting. He laughs as he flexes his giant guns and destroys the armrests in his chair. He decides to stand up as his tattered outfit falls to the ground revealing his incredibly powerful new frame. From behind, Melvin stares at the mountains of muscle twitching on his friend’s back. His thick meaty ass puts thoughts into his head he has never had before about Clyde, let alone another guy. (END OF PART ONE) Part two has arrived: Check out the first three parts of A Most Muscular Year: Christmas Surprise: New Beginnings: Progression to Sex:
  11. Hialmar

    m/m The Security Squad, Part 1

    The Security Squad : Part 1 "Joe! Join me!" The deep voice of my best friend reached out to me from the growth-chamber. I was half-naked, and surrounded by the grey-haired scientists in white lab coats and the Guards in their intimidating and ultra-masculine uniforms. How did I end up in this terrifying situation? I met Brad in Upper Secondary, back in the mid-10s. Although both of us had reached voting-age, when the infamous election took place, none of us bothered to vote. None of the candidates appealed to us (but for different reasons), so we voted with our feet. Afterwards, we regretted that decision. The other candidates had all been rather bad, but when The Leader grabbed political power, the country turned for the worse. I very much doubt, that most of the voters, who brought The Leader to his position, wanted him to do, what he did next. By a decree -- initially, but not for long, evaluated as un-constitutional -- he dissolved the Houses of Congress, merged them into The House of Councillors, and turned the decisions of the body into just an advisory function. He dismissed some of the judges of the Supreme Court, and named himself Lord Protector of the Realm, but in everyday speech most of us referred to him as The Leader. Brad and I were not interested in politics enough, to be initially aware of all that was happening, but Karen, an eighteen year old young woman in my class, was very concerned. I liked to be around Karen for several reasons. The number of female students in Science-and-Engineering classes are still usually half the number of male students in the same classes, and it is a pleasant surprise, when someone of the opposite sex share one's own fields of interest and plans for future occupation. Her chestnut-coloured hair, her green eyes and the dimple in her chin might have added to her appeal. Too many of the girls (now becoming women) preferred young men like Brad. I met Brad in Spanish class and French class, since those classes were composed of students from both Science-and-Engineering and Arts-and-Humanities. If you expect male students from the Arts-and-Humanities programme to be short, thin and shy, Brad didn't meet those expectations. I was initially wary of him, since he reminded me too much of my tormentors in Primary School and Lower Secondary. Brad was tall. His chest and broad shoulders filled out his baseball jacket in a way, that was impossible to ignore, and he had a preference for black Adidas trainers. His blond hair was carefully formed at the top of his head, but the sides and the backside of his head were shaved. I had avoided him the first weeks, by the reasons I have already mentioned, but one afternoon he suddenly took a seat opposite mine in the student cafeteria, and began to chat like we had known each others for years. I was taken by surprise, and still prejudiced against his appearance, but, to make a very long story short, he turned out to be a very friendly and likeable person: A true friend. I quickly found out, that he wasn't interested in engineering or programming, and I wasn't the person to discuss Latin with, but we liked watching the same films -- especially the non-stop flood of action-films based on comics pouring out those days -- and we played computer games together. Unlike me, he was dancing and drinking in Fridays and Saturdays, but, from what I gathered, his alcohol intake was very restrained compared to some other students, since he didn't want to spoil his training results. Before meeting Brad, I expected all muscleheads to be ignorant fools, bullies or both of the above, but he caused me to form a second opinion. His cheerful personality, his interest in history and literature (especially ancient heroic myths), and his almost protective behaviour towards me, all contributed to my re-evaluation of those who attend gyms. It was when I struggled with my last year before University he came up with the idea: "Why don't you join me at the gym? I have heard you a thousand times, bro: That you don't have time. But believe me -- your brain will work much better with some regular exercise." I didn't know what to answer. Many different thoughts and feelings ran in all and every direction, leaving me confused. A weird feeling wiggled and twisted in my belly: Working out? Like Brad? Becoming at least a little bit more like Brad? M-muscles? And another feeling screamed in my head: There are big guys at the gym. Dangerous. Like my old bullies. Danger. Threat. And a third feeling. Revulsion. Socially unacceptable. I would never fit in at University or find a decent job looking the least bit like a stupid bro. The weird feeling wiggled and twisted. Muscles. Like Brad. Join him. At the gym. I do no longer remember what I answered him. I just remember, that the last year in Upper Secondary became a pleasant surprise. No-one treated me badly at the gym Brad frequented. The bodybuilders were either too occupied with their exercises to notice me, or were happy to give advice. There were a few overweight kids who struggled with their own kind of problems, and the fitness guys of my own age -- who might or might not have caused me trouble -- did behave well enough, probably because Brad was around. Brad was right. Exercise is good for study results. I left each workout tired, but with great calm and great focus. Physically, the effects were not amazing. Brad used the word "hardgainer" about my condition, but I, at least, developed a lean, fat-free physique with hints of toned muscles. I didn't belong to the same body type as Brad. Summer came. We finished Upper Secondary. Some of us students began to work. Some became unemployed. Karen left for an upper end University far away. We exchanged a few e-mails, letters and phonecalls, but the time between each grew longer and longer apart. Perhaps we weren't meant for each other. Neither the Technological University nor the University of our minor city are especially renowned, but I began to study at the TU, and Brad began his studies at the latter one. Remaining in our home city, we could continue our weekly habits. A democracy wasn't supposed to be like this. House of Councillors? Advisory function? In order to defend our freedom against terrorism? Closing our borders from foreign trade? Making our country great again? Instill deeper patriotism? Personally, I could agree, that the domestic religious nutcases, who claimed that The Leader was Anti-Christ, behaved like terrorists (blowing a few bombs at government buildings), but I became wary, when supporters of that former Senator Saunders were mass-arrested. Ironically, my neighbour on the other side of the road, sympathised with the action against the Saunders-followers, but was alarmed by the action taken against the violent Christian Right. It was shortly before the newspapers and the TV channels stopped reporting about these subjects. I knew, that this state of affairs wasn't right, but what could I do? What could lawfully be done against this subversion of what a democracy was supposed to be? Some student organisations formed protests in one of our squares. The third time, it was interrupted by the Police, and there wasn't any fourth time. Both Brad and I had attended the first two protests, but weren't present at the third one, more out of a co-incidence than anything else. I hadn't reflected much over my own sexuality before. We had all come of age, at a time when same-sex marriages were already in place and attitudes in society had begun to change, but, at the same time, all adults around us expected us to be straight -- especially adults like my neighbour across the road. There were two events that caused me to begin thinking. Brad and I returned from the gym one evening, and he invited me home, which wasn't something exceptional: We often spent time together, at my place or his. He prepared recovery drinks of milk and some protein powder in the kitchen. As a student, he couldn't afford any bigger flat, so his bedroom served as all-purpose room. He passed me a large plastic cup of protein drink, and smiled mischievously. He stood with his back against a bookshelf, which testified of his intellectual pursuits: A Latin grammar, A Greek dictionary, small and expensive green and red books from a publisher called Loeb, student manuals on ancient history and archaeology (and three handbooks about bodybuilding and nutrition, that looked displaced). It wasn't his intellectual traits, that were predominant at the moment: We were both pumped after the gym session, and Brad had taken his t-shirt off. He put his own protein drink down beside his computer and his plaster replica of a statuette of Apollo. "Why don't you give me advice about posing? I hope to compete on amateur level in six months, and I have to begin practicing." I felt uncomfortable, but I felt honoured, too. And strangely excited. "Uhmm. If you say so." I took a mouthful of my protein drink. And Brad began to pose. A lat spread. A side chest. A double biceps. He wasn't a heavyweight, but for an amateur he looked impressively well, despite being out of season. For a short second, my gaze flickered between his Apollo statuette and himself, and noticed the similarities. The ancient Greeks and Romans would have admired someone like Brad. "Come here, and try to bend my arm!" He stood there in his black, shiny Adidas tracksuit trousers and grey football socks. His skin tanned and smooth, but tattooed in a tribal pattern on his shoulder. An icon of small-city masculinity. And he was my friend. A cocky smile, and the mischievous glint in his eyes again. Hesitantly, I put my hand on his biceps. Warm. Hard. Pumped. I tried to pull his arm downwards, but he wouldn't yield. I put my other hand on his biceps. It was like trying to move a rock. I let my feet leave the floor, and let my entire weight rest against his upper arm. I don't know how long time I hang there, until Brad gave up. "OK. You win", he said, and sat down on his bed unusually quickly, with his cheeks warm and rose-coloured by the effort (or by something else?), his elbows resting on his thighs. I sat down beside him, close to him. I could feel his body heat, and I could feel the scent of his sweat, his soap and his anti-perspirant. We sat silent. I felt slightly embarrassed, but mainly comforted by the presence of my big friend. I wished I was like Brad. Nothing else happened that time. The second event, that made me think, happened when we watched films together several years later. Brad had competed in two amateur competitions, and placed third and second. He was bigger now, than when the first event happened. We had seen both films before, but agreed to see them again. Brad had a big TV screen in his room, and we used his bed as a sofa. We watched one of the old Hulk films, and Brad exclaimed: "Look at those muscles! I wish I looked like that!" "You don't sound like the typical archaeology student, Brad. Honestly, isn't that too much?" "There is no 'too much', Joe. Believe it or not, Joe, but when I began working out, I wasn't much bigger than you were, when you began. Now I have reached this level", he put his hands on his polo shirt, "but this is just the beginning. I want more. I want to become extreme." I swallowed. My reason told me Brad's wishes were absurd, but other parts of my mind stirred and crawled. Wiggled. Twisted. Brad. My friend, Brad. Bigger. More muscular. And myself... Becoming like Brad. Big. Powerful Protective. Warm. We sat close to each other. Shoulder by shoulder. I could feel his hard, warm shoulder to mine. Having finished the old Hulk film, we watched Captain America. The first one. The one in which he transforms from small and scrawny into a superhero. Generally, we used to comment scenes while watching them, but when we reached the scene, when Steve Rogers transform into a super-soldier, both Brad and I fell uncharacteristically silent. Brad grabbed the remote, and played the scene, when the radiation chamber opens and reveal the new improved Steve, a second time, and a third, and then stopped the film, leaving it on a still revealing Chris Evan's sweaty and shiny pecs and abs. Brad changed his posture from upright to reclining. A few seconds later, he pulled me down, so that I laid beside him. Close. Warm. Hard buddy. In order to defuse any tension - or so I guess - he tickled me on my belly, and I couldn't stop myself from laughing. Then we fell silent again. "When I got my first results at the gym, lots of chicks liked it, Joe. But, do you know, less and less women appreciate that you work out, when you are moving close to serious levels of exercise. Isn't that strange?", he began in his pleasant deep voice. "I don't know. It is rather extreme." I fell silent. Brad waited. I continued. "I have to admit, that you are very impressive, bro. And I have to admit, that it would be cool to achieve, what you have achieved." Warmth. Close. Hard buddy. "I love to grow you, buddy. That you are so typically ectomorph makes it harder." "Ectomorph? Is that what it is called? Impossible case, is what I would call it." "That's a bad attitude. You are not like you were when we started. This is testimony of that." His big hand had sneaked under my shirt, and now teasingly covered my abs. Initially, I froze in horror, but when nothing else happened, I relaxed and felt his warm hand on my belly. There wasn't something gay with this? Just two friends having a laugh. And discussing exercise. I think. And it isn't sex, if it isn't penetration, is it? "My little buddy is growing. Slowly, my little buddy is growing into a lean and hard little engineer. And I am the one growing you. I feel proud to grow you, bro." He was right. Even if my results were very modest, I hadn't reached this far, without his advice and encouragement. Warm presence beside me. Hard. I felt very good. I had been lost in thoughts, and hadn't noticed that I had wood. "There is something I wan't to discuss with you. It is rather embarrassing." "Nothing embarrass me, and you know it.", Brad answered. "Rather often, I become hard after a workout." I blushed. We were both looking at the ceiling, so I hoped, that Brad wouldn't notice. Brad laughed his friendly laughter. "Rather often? Rather often? You must be kidding, Joe. It happens always, to me. Without exception. It is a perfectly normal reaction, from a biological point of view. And then I haven't begun to mention the mental aspects. I feel so fucking pumped and relaxed and confident after each workout, so my state of mind itself would be enough to drive me horny. Have you been worried over this all the time, and haven't told me? Don't we talk about everything?" He hesitated. "Is there something else, you haven't told me?" The question hang in the air. Brad tickled my belly again, and my abs contracted. The tension evaporated. "Oh, there is a six-pack which wasn't there five years ago. And my little hard package of muscle believe that he gets no results?" Brad moved his hand away from me, and laid there silent. "Joe?" "Yes?" "Do you think you could do something? But it is perhaps too strange for you?" "How would I know, if you don't tell me what it is?" Brad was silent, and then he spoke. "Would you feel weird, if I asked you to play, that I am Captain America just coming out of that machine?" He nodded at the TV screen. I laughed nervously. Then i felt giddy. Childish? Or mature in a forbidden way? My blood pressure suddenly made my temples sound like drums. I felt cold. And warm. And aroused. I cleared my throat. "Would you like me to do that?" Brad's voice sounded slightly embarrassed and slightly husky. "Only if it doesn't make you feel silly." I swallowed. "No. It's OK. It just come so unexpectedly." I sat up in the bed. Brad was still reclined, but he was beginning to remove his polo shirt. "Let me help you." I sat on his knees, and helped him remove his shirt. His upper anatomy was revealed to me. "I am inspecting the test subject. Ehrr. The second test subject after Steve Rogers... A certain... Private Brad... who volunteered to the super-soldier programme... and... Ehrrr." I wasn't good at this, but Brad smiled, his eyes shone, and I couldn't avoid noticing, that the crotch of his jeans was filled with a very noticeable bulge, which pulsated. I tried to ignore it, and I hoped, that Brad didn't notice what was happening behind my own fly. Wiggled. Twisted. "I am inspecting the test subject's traps", touching them, "which has grown bigger and harder. And inspecting the noticeable bigger and harder shoulders." I moved my hands to his shoulders, and clenched. "The triceps and the biceps are now indestructible". Brad let out a restrained moan. I moved my hands from his upper arms to his pecs. "But the most significant growth has occurred in his pecs. My God! They are still growing under my hands! Growing into superhuman size! So hard. So..." I swallowed. Brad was moving under me, and seemed to like it. I massaged his pecs more, but wasn't good at making up a story. Where does these guys in Hollywood get all their dialogue from? "Ehrr. So the subject is still growing and transforming. Oh God! He is turning into a monster! A hero-monster full of hard, masculine muscle. Bigger than anything I have seen. Bigger than anything I could imagine. Oh! He is overwhelming us..." Brad grabbed my back and pressed me against his chest. I couldn't avoid it: My crotch now rested against his, and he was going to notice how hard I was. As was he. My mouth was close to his cheek, and I could feel his stubble against my lips. My hands clenched around his big shoulders. Then, Brad's jeans got a life of their own, and his pulsating bulge massaged my own bulge into ecstacy. We came together. Close to my best friend. Warm. Hard. Protective. Looking at that event retroactively, it was both foreboding and ironical, but at the time, we didn't know what to make out of it. We had both had sex with girls in the past, hadn't we? And we had both kept our trousers on, hadn't we? And since only penetration is sex, we didn't have sex, did we? We were perfectly straight, weren't we? A short time later The Leader pronounced an edict, that a new Sequrity Squad was going to assist both the Police force, the Army and the Home Guard, and that recruitment would be administrated by conscription. We were both very surprised and worried, when Brad received a Draft. To be continued. The story continues here:
  12. Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10 I'm only a little late haha. Enjoy guys! This is a long one. Check out the previous chapters if you haven't already! Comment and like too. I love your input. Wednesday: You Mirin’, Brah? Part 11 I awake to the sound of my alarm. It’s the beginning of April. School ends in May and this means I need to put my plan into action. I want to see if Ethan enjoys worship as much as I do. Being able to flex for each other and admire one another’s gains would honestly make my day. I know he won’t be like Troy. He won’t corner me in the shower or be comfortable being around me stark naked, but I don’t want that from him. For some reason I feel like that would complicate our friendship and be awkward for us. Ethan does not behave like Troy and that’s okay. I do want us to be closer friends though and I want him to know about some of the things that went down with Troy. I need his advice and I have definitely come up with a way of testing him… in my own weird way. I roll out of bed. As usual, I slept naked and with my phone in hand I make my way into the bathroom outside my bedroom door. Living in a frat house is pretty chill; none of my other bros give a damn if they see my ass as I walk the short distance down the hall into the bathroom. It has actually been a while since I’ve showered in my house, because I usually shower in the gym locker room. I walk into the bathroom and hear the water running. I also here someone singing. “—Look at my body. Look at my body. Look at my body. Don’t I look sexy?! sings the voice in the bathroom. “Jason! Is that you dude?” The voice stops singing. “That you Von?” “Yea, man.” “Asuh dude!” “Asuh!” There are three shower stalls in the bathroom. Jason is in the middle so I walk into the one on the right. I look down and check my phone. I see a message from Angelica and read it as Jason continues to sing. Angelica: Hey! Lakeside Restaurant and swimming today at 12:00. I’ll pick you and Jason up from your house. Don’t forget to bring your appetite. See ya I set my phone on the floor, close the shower curtain, and turn on the water. “Yo, Jason, you ready to chow down later?” “Yeah man!” he says. “I haven’t had real food since I moved to this campus.” We both laugh at this because our campus’ dining hall serves food about as horrible as food can get. I quickly soap up and I am done in 5 minutes. I don’t usually take long showers. I step out and look around for my towel as Jason is getting out of his shower. “Agh!” he says in surprise. “There you go flashing that sweet ass of yours again haha.” He lets out of chuckle. Like I said before, my brothers are used to it. “I forgot to bring a towel, so technically this sweet ass exposure is an accident.” I say with a wink. I look Jason up and down. He joined the fraternity a few months ago but we never got the chance to hang out because of how “occupied” I was. This boy has really grown into a man since we last wrestled, which was way before he joined the frat. He’s 18 years old, around 5 ft 10, and is much bigger than the 140 pound boy I remember. He must be 170 pounds at least by now. His thick legs are wrapped in a blue towel but it struggles to hide the big black anaconda behind it. My eyes trail up his washboard abs and to his bulbous, thick pecs. Fuck! They look to be a couple pounds each! “Dude!” I say “When did you get so damn huge?” “The weight lifting class has really helped, man. I haven’t seen you there in a while? Matter of fact, I haven’t seen Troy in a while either…” “I started working out outside of class. I needed that class time for… homework.” The truth was that the class just felt empty without Troy, but I won’t tell him that. “Well guess you have some catching up to do,” he says with a wink and walks around me to the bathroom door. “See you in a couple of hours!” I walk back to my room, still naked and wet. I find a towel, quickly dry of, and put on a pair of tight, blue, athletic briefs. I look over at the mirror on my closet door and flex my quads in the mirror. I fucking love the way they show off my thick bulge and ass. Smiling, I make my way back to my bed and I lay back to stare at the ceiling. I decided to skip my 9 am class so I have nothing to do until we go eat. I’m not feeling hungry so I just decide to stay in bed and think. My conversation with Jason made me realize how much I let my friendship drift with him. I definitely need to learn how to handle having multiple friends better. I think back on the interactions I’ve had with Jason in the past. I remember how close we were before I met Troy. Freshman and sophomore year were great. We were both little shrimps back then. I barely weighed 120 pounds. I guess we have both become big strong men. I close my eyes and let my mind drift. I start to think of crabs, fish, and clams… Oh no. I’m gonna starve to death. Damn it! I open my eyes and look across the room at my jug of Whey protein and blender bottle. My body definitely needs some fuel for growth. I jump up and grab the bottle, scoop some protein in and grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. I mix the water into the bottle and begin to shake it furiously. I start gulping the protein down and I look at the time again. It’s 10 am. I really need something to occupy myself with…But what? I sit down on my bed and look across the room into my mirror again. I look over every inch of my body. My thick meaty chest hovers over my 6 pack. Each rock hard mountain of abs protrude from the valleys of my gut. I look over at my biceps, now measuring about 16 inches and my eyes make their way down to my powerful biceps. “Look at you,” I say to myself into the mirror. “You’re a thick, strong, alpha male now. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.” My cock twitches at what I say. I stand up and walk to the mirror. I watch my powerful legs move beneath me and my quads rippling beneath my skin. I love my body, more than I am able to describe. My right hand naturally makes its way up to my left pec and I squeeze it hard, rubbing the nipples with my fingers. “This body deserves a little worshipping,” I say quietly. I have been really horny lately. It’s a bit insatiable honestly. I quickly walk to my door and close it. As soon as the door is shut, I strip off my briefs and look at myself in the mirror. My hardening dick slowly rises up, pointing straight into the air. I flex both biceps in front of the mirror and my dick involuntarily twitches again. It begins to leak precum onto the floor. I can tell that I am already there. I flex my pecs and watch them bounce in the mirror. That alone is enough to send me over the edge. I grab my cock and slowly begin to stroke. The heavy meat throbs in my hand. I look and see the veins bulging from every inch of my manhood. A few more strokes and I’ll blow all over this mirror. I stroke once, then twice, then a third time, and I already feel my body melting as a jet of cum blast out of my cock onto the mirror. 3 more jets shoot out onto the mirror and then down onto the floor. I let out a huge gasp of air and I feel so relieved. “Boy I needed that.” I clean myself and the mirror and before I know it, it’s 12 and I’m in the back seat of Angelica’s Purple Jeep Wrangler. I am in the back with Jason who is sitting behind Zeus. The radio is blaring some random pop hit and we’re all having a wonderful time. The sun is shining just perfectly and there is not one cloud in the sky. “Me so hungry!!” Zeus screams. For those of you that may have forgotten, Zeus is a 250 pound gorilla man and food should not be denied to him. “Don’t worry Z, we’re almost there,” Angelica says as she makes a left turn. We had been driving in the city for about 10 minutes and are now nearing the edge. Soon we will be in a little section of the city the residents call Heaven. No joke. Heaven includes a few nice restaurants, the lake, and a couple docks for fishing and swimming. The reason it is called Heaven is because of the seclusion. The entire area is surrounded by trees. The little area covers a few dozen miles and is like a peninsula to the outside world. It’s almost impossible to make your way in or out without taking the one road that leads in and out of it; it’s the road we happened to be on. We drive deeper into the green of the forest and the light inside and around the car begins to glow in a beautiful shade of lime. Angelica turns off the radio and we all go silent as we soak in the quietness of the forest. All that can be heard is the engine of the jeep. “I freakin love this place,” Jason says. “I bet they call it Heaven because of how peaceful it is.” “Or the heavenly sex that goes on by the lake,” Zeus says. “Not that YOU would know about that,” Angelica retorts. “Dayum!”I say, bursting into laughter and this leads the rest of the car into hysterical laughter. Even Zeus can’t help from laughing. We finally reach our destination after a few minutes. The Lakeside Restaurant is a small but welcoming place, with the best seafood in our area. From the outside it looks like your typical diner with a few tables out front, but we know better. We all hop out of the car and quickly make our way inside. A beautiful blonde hostess is standing by the front door. She smiles graciously at us and Zeus turns a little red. I smirk at him. “Would you like to dine inside or outside?” says the hostess. “Outside please!” we all say at once. “Have a seat anywhere you want and someone will be there to treat you soon.” We go outside and have a seat at a homely picnic table. The sun shines it’s beautifully canopied green glow onto the table. It’s perfect! I sit beside Angelica across from Zeus and Jason. “Any appetizer ideas?” I say as I pick up a menu from the table. “Dude, sriracha shrimp or nothing!” Jason says with wide hungry eyes. “Anything for you big guy,” I say with a laugh. “Hey, that’s Mr. Big Guy to you.” My phone vibrates and I peak at it. It’s Ethan. He wants to go for a quick run today. I hastily text back and say that I’m with friends, but I’d happily join him later. "Who ya talking to?" Angelica says nosily. “You remember Ethan?” I say. She looks baffled. Jason's eyes flicker to mine. He knows Ethan from back when we wrestled. "Our high schools wrestled each other way back when and then we suddenly ended up at the same college together." “Oh yeah yeah yeah! I don’t talk to him much, but he was pretty hot—cool… Uh hotly cool…" she responds blushing. “What's he saying?" she asks curiously. "He’s just seeing what's up with me. We’re pretty close. He wants to go running later." “Is he your new best friend?" Zeus says. “Ehh, I don't really like to use that expression," I say. “So many people go around calling others their best friends. It has no meaning anymore. I look over Zeus’ head and see a waiter walking towards the table and holy fucking shit… It’s Troy. What are the fucking odds!! I try to maintain my posture and keep my eyes from bulging out of my head from the shock of seeing him here. Zeus looks at my face and chuckles. "What's up with your face, man?” “Oh nothing I’m just—“ “Vonny!” Troy says. My heart pauses for a second. Breath, just fucking breath you fool! “Hey man, what’s up?” I say with a weak smile. He’s wearing a tight black polo that shows off his still thick biceps and I am still amazed at how much size he has maintained. “Working. I’ve had a lot of free time so I got a job. As you probably already know, I will be the waiter for you all today,” he says this and gives us all a sweet smile. “Can I start you guys off with a drink and an appetizer?” Troy says. “Yes! Sriracha shrimp please!!!” Jason yells. “And water for all of us broke college students.” Everyone one of us, even Troy, laughs at this. We all know the struggle. Troy quickly takes our order and leaves. I feel the life quickly drain back into me. “So what is Ethan up to these days?" Jason says. “Well he’s double majoring shit and trying to get a nursing degree and a bachelors in 3D modeling/animation,” I say. “Other than that he enjoys working out, basketball and wrestling. Wrestling was actually the first thing we did when we started hanging out” Jason smiles at this because he was at our wrestling reunion. “You guys haven't seen each other in ages and the first thing you wanted to do was wrestle!?" Angelica says. "That sounds sweaty and disgusting." I laugh at this. Typical of a girl to be disgusted of something so awesome. If they only knew the rush US men got from taking each other on. I look over her shoulder to see if Troy is returning yet. I’m starving. I don’t see him but I catch a glimpse of the slow flowing lake. I can’t wait to get in the water. I wish Troy could chill and enjoy his time here like me, with me. I'll admit that. But being here with my friends is good enough for me and one day we'll rekindle our bond. I look down at my phone again and I got another message. Ethan: Where you eating brah? Me: Lakeside restaurant. Going swimming after. Ethan: Cool, let me come through! Me: Sounds good to me! “So Ethan is coming,” I say. I've never hung out with Ethan outside of the gym or wrestle mats except for eating in the dining hall. This day was getting more exciting. After a workout we usually go our separate ways. I wonder why he wants to come today. It could be that he loves the food, or that he's tight with Jason. I believe it is safe to assume that they hang out sometimes. Either way, I was curious as to what is going to happen. “Ah there he is!” Zeus exclaims as he sees Troy walking back with our water and shrimp. I keep it together this time. “Thank you, Troy,” I say. “No prob, bro. You guys ready to order? “Hell yeah we are!” Angelica screams. An hour and a half later we are all finished eating and in our bathing suits by the lake. We had our fill of crab legs and shrimp and we felt amazing. Sadly, Ethan never showed up. Jason and I race each other to the water, swimming laps around Zeus and Angelica. The evening goes by in a flash and after a while we are all out of the lake and lying in the grass nearby. “Sorry Von, it’s time to go and Ethan still isn’t here,” Angelica says. This does suck, but she’s right. “Ok, let’s go,” I say. I get up from the grass and begin looking for my clothes when a silver car pulls up into the small gravel parking lot behind us and beeps its horn. The door flies open and Ethan steps out. “Dude! Where have you been!?” I say as I walk towards him. “Sorry man! Traffic!” he says. “You guys aren’t leaving are you?” “As a matter of fact, we were,” Angelica says. “Sorry bub.” Bub? “I’m willing to stay with you for an hour, “I say. “Jason, Zeus, what about you two?” “We both have a test to study for,” Zeus says. “Hey I don’t need to study,” Jason says, “Yeah you kind of do,” Zeus says with a roll of his eyes. “Definitely next time, Von. “Okay” I say. It sucks that they all have to leave but… actually this is perfect. I can set my plan into action! They quickly put their clothes on and are driving off within 5 minutes. Ethan and I are alone then. “Got your trunks, bro?” I say. “Trunks!? You mean my speedo,” Ethan says with a smirk. I gotta show of these legs brah!” He takes off his shirt, shoes, and pants to reveal a tight blue speedo. I try to avoid gazing at his huge bulge. That is not a part of the plan. We are both standing in the grass by the lake. I’m still a little wet and in my black swimming trunks. Seeing Ethan in a speedo kind of reminds me of bodybuilding posers and with this though I put my plan into action. “You like showing off right?” I say carefully. “Depends. What do you mean?” he says. “Well, you’re basically wearing a poser. You might as well flex a bit, bro? Show off what you’ve worked so hard for.” I look at his face as I talk to him and I can see the thoughts going through his mind. “Ok,” he says suddenly. “What should do? A back flex?” He turns around and every muscle in is back fills with blood as he flexes both biceps. I see each lump of muscle along his thick traps and it only gets better when he lowers his arms and flexes his lats. The lats spread beneath him like wings and my mind is blown. “I didn’t know your back was that big man!” I say. “That ain’t all that’s big,” he says and turns around. He flexes his pecs at me. The thick balloons bounce and I can see the vascular tubes pushing fresh blood into his working muscles. “Damn!” I say. I know that if he is this comfortable showing off, he will have no problem with me opening up to him about Troy. He then flexes his right bicep and the rock of muscle is engorged. How lucky am I to have such a jacked buddy?! I look over his shoulder and I see someone looking at us. I panic a little and then I panic a lot. It’s Troy and he does not look happy! I stare deep into his eyes. He stands behind the cars in the mini parking lot and all I see is jealousy and rage out of him. But worst of all, he looks like he has been betrayed. I can basically feel it from the lake and he is 40 feet away. He suddenly turns around and leaves. “Vonny?” Ethan says. “Ready to go for a swim?”
  13. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Hiya! I'm back. I just finished writing this so I will add the links to the previous chapters later. I need to get in bed so I can go to the gym in the morning haha. I hope you guys enjoy it. I will be posting again this week. I need to get this ball rolling!! Please feel free to comment, question, or anything else you could do. Thanks! Wednesday: Revelations Part 12 “Vonny?” Ethan says. “Ready to go for a swim?” I turn around and look at Ethan. The water flows smoothly behind him as we stand in the grass. I want to go swimming but I cannot clear my mind of what just happened with Troy. The look of betrayal on his face stains my mind. I’ve never seen that look on him before and definitely not directed at me. The look is his eyes was like wine on a white dress. Something that was once beautiful and now completely soiled. I’ve seen him angry and depressed, but not hurt, and he’s hurt because of me. This doesn’t feel real. “Bro. You ok?” Ethan says. I had been thinking in silence for a while. My eyes stared blankly into Ethan, but I didn’t see him. I only saw Troy. “We need to talk,” I say. “Ok, about what?” He smiles kindly at me. I have high hopes for his understanding, but a little bit of hesitations also. I just can’t keep this to myself anymore. “It’s about Troy?” “Yeah.” “I don’t really know how to say it all really. I just… I’ll start from the beginning I guess.” “You seem nervous, man. Just relax and tell me.” “It’s a little weird…Like sexually weird… Not exactly hetero if you know what I mean.” “Oh… Ok, I’m fine with that,” he says with a smile. I release a long held breath and my body relaxes. “Alright, let’s swim while we talk.” “Awesome!” We both make our way into the water and I begin my story. I tell Ethan about how my friendship with Troy grew over the weightlifting class and how Troy seemed to be sexually charged towards me although he had a girlfriend. I told him about how we jerked off in the shower and how Troy was so eager for physical contact or nudity but somehow made it seem normal. Well not normal, but right. It felt so right. He listened eagerly and he didn’t say a word. He looked at me understandingly the entire time and I could feel tons of weight lifting off my chest. I finish the story by telling him what he already knows. He knows Troy’s girlfriend doesn’t want Troy to lift and now that he knows about our “encounters” he can help me. By the time I am finished, an hour has passed and we are out of the water and sitting in the grass. “Wow! So this is what has been bothering you all of this time. I mean I suspected something, but this was totally unexpected!” “Yeah, it’s kind of crazy, man,” I say. “So what should I do?” “Well…It seems like Troy may be in denial. I’m sure from what you told me that he’s possibly bisexual and hasn’t experienced much with another bro before.” “I’ve figured that much, but what can I do about it?” “Well I don’t want to say confront him, because he could flip shit and deny everything. I think you should wait everything out,” Ethan says. Do you like him?” “Uh…I… I don’t know,” I say. “It’s like he’s powerful and I enjoy how he pushes me.” “Don’t I do the same for you?” “Yeah, but I don’t get surges of sexual energy when I see you.” “Well if you aren’t crushing on him, I’m assuming you both have a very strong mutual appreciation of each other’s gains or some type of muscle fetish. It’s not strictly you liking him. It’s more of a bro thing I guess. You two were just a lot closer than I imagined.” “That’s a decent way to explain it. I still feel terrible though. I feel like hanging out with you is hurting him. He saw you flexing for me and I know he’s upset. I saw it.” “But dude, I’m not like him. We’re bros and yeah we may show off for one another, but I am not trying to get in his way.” “But what does he want exactly?” “I don’t know. We need to wait for him to figure that mess out, bro. But for now let’s just do what we do. Workout. Eat. Flex. Grow. Repeat.” I smile at this. I love the idea of just eating, lifting , and growing. I’d love a life where I’d only have to focus on my bod without the trouble of life’s problems. “Sounds good to me,” I say. “You still down for that run later?” “Yeah man. I’m still down!” I look down at my phone. Wednesday April 27th 4:30 pm. School ends May 20th. That gives Troy a little over 20 days to figure himself out and hopefully come to me…with a solution that is. “Let’s get back to campus.” We get up and head over to his car. It’s funny how after all of this we still have exercise on our minds. We quickly get back to campus and head over to the gym locker room. We are both extremely chill right now. I feel like Ethan is a lot closer of a friend and I know he feels it too. The burden of secrets has been lifted. We both walk into the locker room, go into our lockers and pull out our running shorts. It’s hot outside so there’s no need for shirts and honestly what fun would wearing those be? I suddenly feel a lot more comfortable around Ethan and get the balls to pull off all of my clothes in front of him. I stand in front of my locker with my dick, balls and ass hanging out. I look over at Ethan and he does the same. I’ve never seen his cock before but fuck was I surprised. Ethan was gifted with a thick veiny cock that hung flaccid at about 7 inches. Damn! If it’s that long soft I can’t even imagine it hard. I take a hard look at his round ass and the tight hamstrings leading up to it. I know him being nude in front of me is rare so I take in as much as I can. How lucky am I to have such a hunk for a friend? I pull up my shorts and put on my running shoes and he does the same. “Let’s go, man!” Ethan says. We head outside and I immediately break into a sprint. “Whoa, man! Wait for me!” The fresh air breathes life to my already sweaty skin. The sun beams down on me with intensity and I feel the skin on my back burning. I notice Ethan’s masculine figure catching up to me in the corner of my eye. Eventually we are keeping the same pace and we continue to run on the sidewalk past the freshman dorms. My thick, meaty pecs dancing as I run. Makes me wonder if they make bras for dudes with muscled tits. I look over at Ethan and see his pecs jump with each move of his body. “You’re fast!” Ethan says. “Oh, I know,” I say cockily and with a blast of energy I push myself faster. We run past the dining hall and the smell of food fills the air. Dinner should be ready soon. We pass a couple of cheerleaders on their way out of the dining hall door and they all squeal when they see us. I love it when people react to my body. Girl or not, it is amazing being admired. After about 40 minutes we have ran a little over 3 miles and we are beat. I check my watch and it’s getting close to 6 o’clock. “Wanna get dinner?” Ethan says. “Yeah. Let’s go to The Grill.” The grill is a fast food joint on our campus. It’s located inside our campus center and they have everything from hotdogs to chicken quesadillas. “When do you want to meet up?” “Meet up? I was gonna go now.” “Now! We don’t have shirts!” “Not gonna stop me.” I say. “Oh boy. Alright. Let us sweaty, sticky men go to a public space haha,” he says. “Perfect!” I reply. We walk over to the grill. It’s an old building. It was built in the 60’s and was still pretty decent looking. The red bricks have faded and there were a few dents here and there, but we weren’t here to look at the architecture. We push our way through the revolving doors and walk inside. There’s a food counter, similar to what you see in any fast food establishment, with tv screens above it displaying all of the food choices to the left. To the right there are about 20 black round tables with 4 chairs. Each seat at each table is filled with a person and every eye is on us. “Oh fuck,” Ethan mutters. “Stay calm” I whisper as we walk over to the food counter. There is a slim, Hispanic boy working the register. He’s wearing a bright red shirt and a red hat with our mascot, Buff the Bulldog on it. He visibly swallows when he sees me and begins to fidget his fingers on the screen of his register. He looks extremely young and is most likely a freshman. He’s pretty cute too. I’d probably destroy him in bed if I hadn’t had my heart somewhere else. Did I really just think that? “How…” he swallows. “How may I help you?” he says to my pecs. He is extremely nervous and his eyes are deeply focused on my chest. He even licked his lips a little and I can’t help but smile at this. I look behind him and there’s a thick black girl in the same outfit standing behind him. Her hand is over her mouth and her eyes are wide. She is obviously enamored. I decide to have a little fun. “I’d like…” I say, flexing my pecs with every word and earning a gasp from the girl behind him. “I’d like 2 chicken wraps” flex “a small” flex “fry,” flex “and a chocolate” flex “milkshake.” He stalls. His mouth is hanging open and he doesn’t respond. The girl behind him moves forward, her eyes never leaving my body, and speaks. “I am so sorry about him,” she says as she moves him out of the way and types my order into the register. The Hispanic kid continues to stare at my chest and I chuckle. “What will your friend be having?” I turn around and look at Ethan. His face is red and I understand why. I take a peek behind him and see loads of people still looking at us. “Ethan?” I say. “Uh, I’ll have the same,” he replies his face ever reddening. “Right away!” says the Hispanic kid. His mind finally working and he and the girl rush through a door to the back to prepare the food. I turn around and look at Ethan. “You cool?” I say. “Uh… Not exactly. I feel all of the eyes on me…” “That’s good, man. They’re just ‘mirin you.” “Yeah, I haven’t been looked at like this before though,” he says softly. “I mean I have, but only by you and a couple other guys. Never 50 people.” “Well there’s 100 eyes on you and they are loving every inch of your body. Own that shit man.” Ethan smiles at this and is about to speak when the girl comes back with our food. “Here you go guys,” she says with a huge smile as she hands us white paper bags filled with food. “Thanks for coming!” I feel that she actually meant that. It’s rare that cashier actually care. I thank her with a wink and she basically falls back onto the door. We both walk out and I hear her whisper “OHMAHGAWD!” as we leave. “That was pretty amazing,” Ethan says as we finish up our food. We had been sitting outside for about 2 hours. Talking about life, the future, and how amazing it was being admired by so many people at once. “My heart beats faster just thinking about it,” he continues. “I want to do it again!” “What’s stopping us?” I say. “Nothing I guess,” he says with a laugh. We get up and throw our bags of leftover trash away. It’s a little past 8 o’clock. “See you later, bro.” I raise my fist to his and we bump them together. I’m so glad he’s my bro. I slowly make my way over to my frat house and stop when I see a dark figure standing outside the door. Could it be a brother? It can’t be. A brother would know the code to the house. Each frat has a keypad and each brother knows the code. The figure knocks on the door repeatedly and I begin to realize this person could be threatening. Its body is sagging and drooping against the door. I slowly make my way to the door through my lawn, hoping it is just Jason or anyone else who could have forgotten the code. Sadly I was wrong. As soon as my feet touch the first step the figure turns around and lunges at me, I am suddenly on my back and the weight of the figure is crushing me. My arms and legs are pinned and I look it in the eyes. “Troy?” I say, startled.
  14. arbotimus

    growth The Iron Bug - Part III

    Partly inspired by true events : P Part I Part II Part III – All The Way It was hard to consolidate beauty as I knew it before with the erotic sensations that were now constant and overwhelming. The sun shot red rays across the sky in protest of the coming night, and the trees watched silently, their leaves soaking up the last of the usually sporadic sunlight. I felt the pump in my arms, fibers straining against the weight. Normally I would take solace in the calmness of the twilight, in the gentle passage of time between phases of the day. But fuck, I was huge. It was hard to focus on anything else. The tree branch began to bend as I lifted myself up towards the sky. It wasn’t iron, but it would have to do. It was easy. With just a simple flex my will was transformed into action. Nothing could stop me. I rested my chin on the bending branch. The sun set. I had grown twice since last night. I didn’t have the desire for anything else. I worked out upon waking up and then again after I ate and rested. I bought new clothes in the interim too. The others fit me way too tightly, making it almost uncomfortable to breathe. Every motion was exaggerated by the fabric stretching against my hardened stature. Although by now I didn’t really care. I was out here without a shirt on. People could look at me if they wanted to. I was going to be gone soon, and they would not recognize me except for my hair. I lifted my chin from the branch and started to let myself down slowly. My bare feet descended to the grass, toes touching first and then heels falling softly. I couldn’t help but flex each of my swollen muscles, starting with my calves. The impressive cliff they formed created a shadow even in the fading light. Next it was quads. Big, bloated, and cut to the nines, they strained my already exasperated shorts. And I didn’t even have to flex them very hard. It didn’t help that my glutes stole most of the fabric, forming firm, round globes that eclipsed my lower legs. I ran my hands up and across my abs, each brick bringing my erection to greater attention, and finished with a double bi pose. That one was my favorite. It put the power that lay just beneath those titanic arms on display so effortlessly. My dick now rose to full mast, my shorts struggling to hold together. It felt good to be a man. I went back inside to the guy I had just fucked. He was tight, wiry, but nothing like me. He was face down, ass up. The smell of the candle I had left burning mixed with the smell of his skin as I ran my tongue down his back and up to his neck. I turned him around to face me and folded my legs on each side of him so that I sat comfortably on his abs. I let my body linger there, imposing, towering over his. My pecs hung heavy in the bottom frame of my vision. I bounced them, just because I could. I looked straight into his eyes, almond-colored, framed by long, dark, curly hair. I loved the way he tried to move but could not make much of an impression. He blushed a little bit. He almost reminded me of myself a few days ago. What a different life that was. I moved closer and kissed him, gently. I could feel his body tense with pleasure under me. “Where’s your shirt?” I asked. “On the side of the bed,” he said. I casually reached for it and felt how light and small it was in my hands. “Do you mind if I try it on?” I said. He nodded, trying to maintain his composure and pretend this was a normal request. He was doing a subpar job of it. Who could blame him? I knew I had picked a good one. A muscle junkie through and through. And here I was to provide the fix. I lifted it over my head and from the very start I could feel how little of my body was going to squeeze into this tiny polo. By the time my arm reached the sleeve I got stuck. I fumbled awkwardly for a minute, wrestling this puny piece of fabric over my muscular frame. He giggled, and I allowed it. Finally I was pulling it down over my abs. The fabric wrapped up each ab individually, like they had been covered in cellophane. I ran my hand over it just to feel how tight I stretched the fabric. I noticed as I looked down that the buttons sat undone and my upper chest was popping through. I motioned to button them up, but there was obviously no way that they were going to come together. I smiled down at him. “You’ve gotta catch up, dude. I can’t even button up your shirt.” Throb, pulse. I lifted up my arms almost in auto-pilot. I heard a tear. Fuck, if I wasn’t hard already. His dick responded too, jolting on the crevice of my ass. I felt around to know what part of the shirt had torn. It was the underside of the seam where the sleeve meets the body. “I’ll lend you one of mine,” I said, unapologetically. I left out that most of my shirts had succumb to a similar fate when I had tried to find just one that fit my massive frame. I tried as hard as I could to split the shirt around the bicep. I wasn’t quite big enough yet. But I would be. It was only a matter of time. Damn stretchy fabric. But fuck if I didn’t look good filling them up. Every last inch of it. Approaching eighteen, last I had counted. With that, the show was over. I lifted the shirt off, this time with care to avoid the clumsy nature of its donning. More tears, here and there. I didn’t bother to avoid making them, it didn’t matter anymore. I got off of him and lifted him up, putting my arms under his knees and grabbing his torso. His arms clasped about my neck, hands reaching down my back. His hands were soft, and I could feel them navigate over the muscles in my back, exploring every bulge, solid, strong. I sat on the edge of the bed, my arms the only thing preventing him falling from the ground. I kissed him, in reassurance that I was not going to drop him. His cock pressed against the tight, warm flesh of my abs, and his hands migrated over to my pecs, circling my nipples with his fingers. That sensation was more erogenous than I expected, and I almost let him slip. His body falling away from mine startled me, and I pulled him close again. I took my cock, throbbing and begging for release, and pressed it right up against his hole. Pre smeared across it, and I started stroking up and down. I wanted release. I grabbed him tighter and began to lift his ass up and down across my cock, my arms getting tired and swollen and all the more pumped as I kept using him like he was a fleshjack. Before I knew it I was already about to cum. I lifted him a little bit higher and brought my cock between us, cum spurting onto my chest and up to his chin. “Now it’s your…” I touched his dick and within a few seconds he was gone. His cum only managed to splash up against my abs, but it was appreciated nonetheless. I couldn’t help but grin as his face was lost in the ecstasy of orgasm. I stood up, holding him, and walked over to my dresser. I set him on top and pulled out a shirt, handing it to him with a towel. “That’s for you.” I gave one of those cheesy jock-like winks, and turned around to head to the bathroom. I could feel his glare as my solid, round cheeks fell up and down with my stride. I gave them a good flex (and threw in some calves too) before I left his view. It was time for a run. -- An hour later I was outside. The night air brushed against my skin, my entire torso free and exposed. Darkness was my only company for most of the path until I reached the more suburban part of town. I was alone even though my path was now lit. Hardly anyone roamed about at this hour, and they wouldn’t have recognized me. But I wanted them to see anyways. To recognize me for what I had become. My footsteps fell heavy on the ground and made echoes on the still houses, but I was hardly any slower than before. It wasn’t long before I made it to Charlie’s place. I stopped under a streetlamp, the light reflecting the prodigious results of my transformation. He was in his garage, working on some old beat up truck that looked like it was from the 1950s. No one else seemed to be home. Despite the noisy footfall, he failed to notice me. I watched him for a moment. His skin was dark under the fluorescent bulb hanging over him, his back solid and clinging tightly to his wife beater. Every motion showed a muscle working, displayed the effortlessness that he carried himself with. He pulled what must have been the oil dipstick out of its place, and the various muscles in his arms flexed to form dark shadows beneath them. I felt a flush of embarrassment that I did not think I would ever feel again. “Hey,” I barked clumsily. He paused for a moment and wiped his hands before he turned around. He stared directly at me for a moment, the radiant jade of his eyes investigating my presence. His brow folded in the slightest confusion, as if he were trying to decipher someone’s face in an old photograph. And then he smiled. Teeth white as an ivory tomb. “Sup, little man.” Shit, he beat me to it. Did he recognize me? Or did he say that to everyone who passed by? Now that his initial confusion had passed, there was no hint of alarm or concern on his face. I started walking towards him, trying not to let my confidence falter as I stepped out of the streetlamp’s light. I tried to convince myself there was no reason to let my conviction falter. By now I must have been bigger than he was. Stronger. Nonetheless, he didn’t flinch. Neither his stance nor his expression wavered at my approach. And then we were face to face. He leaned on the grill of his car, relaxed. “What brings you around here?” he said casually. I didn’t really know. “Just out for a run,” was what came out of my mouth. “You seem to have been through a lot in the past few days,” he said. He lifted his arm, and without thinking I grabbed it. He did not seem to mind; if anything, he was amused. I held my hand still too, at first. His calm demeanor startled me. I just needed to break his confidence; I had to make him know just how much stronger I was. I pushed, and he gave just a little. The thick bellies of my triceps knotted and I could see his forearm tighten up and strain against the force of my powerful arm, the thick calluses on my hands rubbing rough against his soft skin. Still, forcing his arm back was more difficult than I anticipated. I was winning, but just barely. Meanwhile I could feel the blood rush to my cock even though I was using all of my strength. “Say uncle,” I said. I wanted him to admit it. Without changing his expression, he opened his mouth and his face leaned in towards mine. I almost expected a kiss. Instead I heard music. Even though it must have come from him, it sounded rich and deep as though it were another person’s voice. It resonated all around me like a bell, sonorous and pure despite its depth. Between long notes, the melody rang with strange sounds that were akin to words that I did not recognize. All of my anxiety and rivalry faded as the strange tune resounded in my ears. My vision started to become hazy. His golden arms blurred into the fluorescent lit background, his soft lips disappearing as everything began to go dark. I felt my head fall on his chest. It hummed with the bell’s tune. I could not stay awake any longer. -- I awoke as the sun was rising. My head was still foggy, but not unpleasantly so, as I lifted out of my near comatose state. My body was similarly sluggish and numb. I felt clumsy as I attempted to orchestrate my way off the ground, feet stumbling in the grass. I also discovered a ringing in my ears, but low and distant-sounding. It faded slowly as clarity came back to me, my body regaining its composure. Beams of sunlight loftily fell through the morning fog and landed on my silken skin. I had not changed. I gave my pecs a quick bounce just to be sure. Still massive. Memories came back from last night slowly and sporadically, like mud through a sieve. The details were mostly unclear, but my awakening here on the ground meant that I had lost. Despite all of the changes I had gone through, Charlie was still stronger than me. My heart fell into my chest, full of anguish. I could not even remember how he managed to subdue me. But I had an idea on how to fix that. I reached into my pocket to find my car keys. There was a note inside. It said: “Next time, make a better wish.” Whatever that meant. I was fortunate enough to see Delilah’s car leave as I turned the corner on her street. I didn’t know how to explain to her what had happened or my plan, and I wasn’t about to be talked out of it. I parked at the end of the block and walked as casually as I could feign up to her doorstep. The tacky porcelain frog that stood out harshly from the otherwise bare porch revealed her spare keys. Luckily, they held one that opened her basement. I threw it into the grass, not taking the time to remark how light it was for me now. The basement was even more cluttered than the last time I had been inside. Old musty books full of pseudoscientific literature and what looked like very serious scholarly articles littered the tables and floor. Clearly Delilah had devoted most of her free time to discovering what they were and how to make sure they didn’t kick the bucket in her care. However she did it, it was working; they seemed just as irreverent and indignant as ever. My arrival only seemed to encourage their frenzied buzzing. Inside the dull plastic box, she had left a small bag of blood as their only company. An iron meal for an iron bug. I paused for a moment. No, this was what I wanted. The risks were irrelevant. I needed to get bigger. Bigger than him. Bigger than anyone. That was all that mattered. I cautiously opened the container and slid my hand quickly over the opening as I removed the lid. It was almost instant, the sting. My hand clenched; fuck, it hurt. But unlike our first encounter, it remained stuck in my skin. I could feel it. A warm, almost hot sensation emanated from the sting. Like a hot summer day running through my blood, up my beefy arms and into the rest of my formidable body. It flowed through me, saturating me with whatever chemical or enzyme or magic flowed from its metallic proboscis. It felt as though I was going through the most intense workout I ever had while standing completely still. It was completing me. I was strong, alive, vibrant, unstoppable. Eventually the iron bug dropped from my hand, satiated. It scuttled away lazily, finally ending its fervent rampage against its impregnable prison. It seemed to shine crimson beneath its metallic sheen. I slid the lid back on, careful not to let out the other bug that was still madly trying to escape. Attempting to head towards the exit, I found myself dizzy with euphoria and my body was somewhat difficult to move. My flesh felt hard to the touch, like an insane pump from a non-existent workout. My blood was still warm, marked by a pleasant tingling. I don’t really remember getting back to my house. I only remember putting the keys back under the frog and somehow finding myself lying under the sheets in my bed, wrapped up like a cocoon. My blood was still warm, and the muscles beneath my skin were unbelievably tense, pumped, and changing into something even harder. My cock matched them in turgor, fighting for attention. But I was too busy wrapped up in the novel sensations to pay it any attention. Soon the heat began to make me dizzy, and I started to drift off. My eyes shut. I smiled. It worked. I couldn’t wait to find out what I had done.
  15. hoola

    transformation Don't Stop Parts 6+7

    Sorry it's been so long since the last post, but here are then next installments in Andrew and Nicole's growth adventure. When will it stop... Parts 1+2+3: Parts 4+5: PART 6: Andrew lay on his bed stunned at the amount of times he had just masturbated. He thought it had to be a record to have cum almost thirty times in a 24 hour time frame, but his analytical thoughts were soon squashed by his raging hard-on. It looked absolutely massive compared to what he had barely swinging between his legs only two days ago. He was so proud of his meat that he almost forgot about how jacked he was now. His right arm was noticeable larger than his left due to the pump he had gotten from jacking off so much, so he decided to hit the gym and test out his new physique. Hi cock got super hard just thinking about lifting weights. “Maybe I’ll hit the gym after a little self-workout…” Nicole was running some assays in her lab when she overheard a troubling conversation. “Have you seen our pheromone chapstick prototype Jessica? I can’t find it on my lab bench. I swear I just set it down there a couple of days ago…” Bret said. Nicole knew exactly where the chap stick was, but she wasn’t about to confess to stealing it so that she could make her crush into more of a man. And what a man he was shaping up to be. Nicole knew the chap stick was more than just capable of attracting members of the opposite sex. Through her organic chemistry knowledge she knew that the chap stick had certain properties that would enhance male virility characteristics including muscle mass, penis size, body hair, and sex drive. She had decided to put her knowledge to the test on Andrew who had been a meek and weak boy until a couple days prior when he had begun his true transition into manhood. Nicole had liked Andrew for a while, but now she was starting to find him irresistible. She started getting wet just thinking about his big dick and his new beard. It took everything she had not to start masturbating right then and there in her lab. Meanwhile, Andrew was proving to be a monster in the gym. He had gone a few times before to try to build some muscle to impress the girls in his classes, but he gave up after a few days of not seeing any results other than a severe soreness and increased appetite. However after his (secret) doses of growth formula he was setting personal records like crazy. He hardly felt winded after more than an hour of a grueling full-body workout, but he felt pumped. His muscles felt like rocks under his skin, and speaking of rocks, his penis had been hard as a rock since he left his house. He finally decided to take care of it and ran to the bathroom. Jumping in a private shower stall he started stroking his shaft and feeling up his now swollen muscles. His pecs felt like huge pillows, and the coating of hair on them was driving him crazy. He felt like a real man and wanted to cum like a real man. Nicole wasn’t around, but he had plenty of memories to work with and was orgasming like never before in just a few strokes. He felt like the orgasm would never stop, but it sadly did after almost a minute of constant and intense cumming. PART 7: Somewhat satisfied, Andrew returned to the weight room just as Nicole arrived for a light workout. She absentmindedly put on some of the growth chap stick believing it was just her normal chap stick. She had just started running on the treadmill when she heard a loud series of grunts coming from the weight room and decided to check it out. Surprise surprise, it was Andrew who was making all of the manly noises. To her surprise, he looked absolutely swollen. His pecs were large enough that she could lose a few fingers in his cleavage, and his legs looked like they were cut from diamond. His muscles weren’t as big as she would have liked (yet), but she was definitely getting turned on by her new manly boyfriend. His sweaty chest hair and beard were just confirming his newfound virility to her, and she knew she had to have him immediately. “Hey Andrew,” Nicole whispered seductively into his ear, “How about we go hit the showers.” Andrew’s dick, which had softened up just a bit since his last monumental ejaculation, became instantly rock hard when he hear Nicole’s voice. He didn’t say a word to her, he just picked her up in his hot rippling arms and carried her to the shower area. As soon as they found an empty stall they got to work. Andrew stripped off his shirt which was completely soaked with his sweat and revealed a chiseled six pack like Nicole had never seen before. Nicole, who didn’t know she had put on the growth chap stick, frantically tore off the rest of their clothing and started kissing Andrew all up and down his body. His 7” dick stood hard at attention, just waiting for the moment for Nicole’s lips to reach it. His balls were swollen and churning with huge loads of cum just waiting to be released. Nicole started blowing him, and he almost lost it right then and there. It felt so good whenever she had her lips stretched tight around his rapidly growing cock. He briefly thought back to just a few days before when he was jacking off to this exact fantasy, and he couldn’t believe how far he had come (and cum) in such little time. After a few minutes of the best blowjob of his life, Andrew picked Nicole up and impaled her on his stick. She screamed and moaned in pleasure as she orgasmed immediately from the penetration. Her orgasm was driving Andrew’s dick crazy, and it took only a few more minutes for him to erupt. He was in absolute bliss and felt like he was cumming for an eternity (in reality it lasted for three minutes, but that’s still inhumanly impressive). Completely exhausted yet entirely insatiable, the couple cleaned themselves up (not before a few more rounds of crazy sex) and headed home where their sexual marathon would never stop. All the while, Nicole was thinking about how much manlier Andrew would become and if she ever wanted to stop her not-so-little experiment.
  16. Newmassaddict

    growth Growth Part 13

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE Part 8 HERE Part 9 & 10 HERE Part 11 HERE Part 12 HERE 13 I woke up the sounds of what sounded like tearing flesh. I shook my head and my vision slowly came back. Across the room, Matt was hunched over a table full of food. With his bare hands, he was stuffing large pieces of meat into his mouth. He grabbed a carton of milk and started to chug it. Milk ran down his chin and puddled on the floor. He dumped numerous scoops of protein powder into a open jug of water and started to drink that too. Before he swallowed his other hand grabbed more meat. I watched in awe for minutes as he devoured massive amounts of food. When I was finally able to break my gaze I realized I was tied to a metal post, unable to move. “Be with you in a moment” Matt said with a mouth full of food. He never looked up, he just kept eating. After another 10 minutes he finally pushed the table back and stood up. Food and liquid covered his swollen chest. He wiped his face with his vein engorged forearm and patted his distended stomach. He was only wearing tight underwear and the sight of his body made me stifle a gag. He looked MASSIVE. Whether it was the battle we had just had or the copious about of food he just ingested; he looked twice as big as he had in the alley. He let out a loud burp and ran his hand over his bloated stomach. “Fuck that was good. I needed to replenish my calories after kicking your muscled ass” “Untie me you little fuck!” I screamed. Matt just laughed and stepped closer. He leaned down and slowly hit a most muscular pose. His extreme conditioning and deep striations reached new levels as his entire body inflated before my eyes. “We aren’t done yet Dave. So you better get conformable. You aren’t going anywhere.” Matt said and slowly waddled across the room. I repositioned myself and suddenly realized I was tied to a pole in what looked like an old warehouse. One side was a crudely constructed apartment while the other side was a massive gym. Stacks of weights and massive machines covered every inch. At the far end of the room a large garage door opened. The sun was coming up so all I could see was the silhouette of a person walking inside. As my eyes focused on the shape my eyes widened. Slowly moving towards me was the largest man I had even seen. Wearing only a pair of tight boxer briefs he approached. His legs were so immense that he didn’t even waddle. Each quad had to swing around the other causing him to sway back and forth. He wasn’t flexing his chest but each overinflated pec pressed against his thick, square chin. Even with such massive pecs his lats were still visible from the front. They protruded an additional two feet from his sides like two outrageously muscled wings and pressed his inhumanly massive arms and shoulders to rest at nearly 90 degrees from his body. Even in my wildest imagination I never imagined such a massive beast of a man could exist. “I see our guest is awake” Clint said as he approached. “Wh-who the f-fuck are you?” I stammered. Clint stopped a few feet from me and started to inflate his enormous body. He easily dwarfed every professional bodybuilder I had even seen. His body expanded into a mind-boggling network of the thickest, most striated network of overly developed muscle I had even laid eyes on. Matt stood next to Clint and for the first time; looked small and weak. “He’s 52 years old and at 5’7” he weighs 395lbs.” Matt said, caressing Clint’s flexed body. “400lb as of this morning kid” Clint said with a wide grin. “FUCK YEAH!” yelled Matt. “That’s not possible! How…?” I said in disbelief. Clint took a step closer and hit a most muscular pose. His already inflated body contorted and increased in size. My brain couldn’t comprehend the sight. I ejaculated in my shorts and fainted. I woke minutes later to the sounds of metal clanking. I opened my eyes and saw Clint and Matt at the squat rack. Matt had just racked a sizeable weight and stumbled out of the cage. His massive quads were purple with pump and looked absolutely huge. He leaned against the wall and started to pound his dense quads muscles with his fists. “Not big enough! Need to grow these babies.” He repeated. Clint smiled and positioned himself under the heavy weight. With seemly no effort; he lifted the weight and started to squat. I looked on in awe. Clint’s enormous quads powered the weight up and down with mechanical precession. His massive legs were overshadowed however by his immense glutes. Each ass cheek resembled a overinflated beach ball. After well over 20 reps he racked the weight and stepped out of the cage and walked towards me. “Good, you’re up. Give him a good show Matt” He said and added two more plates to either side of the bar. Matt slapped his face hard and positioned himself under the bar. When he lifted it off the supports, it sagged in the middle. Matt then proceeded to preform textbook prefect squats with the huge weight. With each rep, his granite hard ass came inches above the ground before powering the bar back up. At eight reps his rhythm started to slow down. “Don’t stop Matt! Think about how you beat the shit out of this huge freak!” Clint yelled. Matt let out a savage scream and quickened his pace. He managed 17 reps before racking the weight and collapsing on the floor. “This kid is fucking animal.” Clint said with pride. He walked over to me and untied the ropes holding my hands. I immediately got to my feet. “Don’t even think about trying to go anywhere.” Clint said and picked up a 45lb plate. He swung his huge body and launched the weight at the wall. The plate hit the cement wall so hard it embedded itself a foot deep. “Besides, I know you want to tear this kid apart for what he did to you but I think you’d rather just stay here and get the best pump of your life.” I stood in shock. Clint was right; I had been hurt and humiliated by Matt. I should have wanted to pound him to a bloody pulp but another emotion was taking over. I don’t know if was the intoxicating level of testosterone in this room or just the shear size of Clint and Matt but I didn’t want to leave; I couldn’t leave. Clint smiled; slapped my shoulder and guided me towards the squat rack. I looked down at Matt, who was still on the ground. He looked up with a smile and slowly made his way to his feet. The two massive men stood behind me and I watched their reflections in the mirror as the heavy weight started to press into my broad shoulders and huge traps. With a grunt I hoisted the weight and started to squat. As blood filled my legs, my anger dissolved. The craving to feel even muscle fibre in my body beg for relief took over and I powered the bar up and down. I don’t know how many reps I did but when I re-racked the weights I stumbled back and almost fell over. I looked down at my quads and I couldn’t see my feet due to the swollen leg muscles. I looked at Matt and he was slowly stroking his hard cock. “Let’s lift” I said as the two huge men hurried to add more weight. ———————————————————————————————————————— I had had countless intense workout with Tyler but they now paled in compassion to the workout I had with Clint and Matt. Brutal squats led to torturous leg press and devastating calf raises. An hour later we could no longer move. I was laying on the floor and Matt was propped against the wall as Clint handed us each a massive protein shake. We were all sweating profusely and breathing heavy. I glanced towards Matt. He was rubbing his cock and staring at my blood engorged quads and calves. If I could have measured them I’m sure they were at their all time biggest. Clint noticed Matt’s gaze and said “He’s a fucking mutant isn’t he Matt?” “He sure is Clint. Next to you he’s the biggest freak I’ve ever seen.” Clint walked over to me and extended his wet, huge hand. I reached up and with a grunt, he lifted me to my feet. I stumbled a few steps but gained my balance. “Let’s compare beast to beast for the kid” Clint said. “Fuck yeah!” I replied. Clint planted his feet and twisted his 400lb body. He grabbed his wrist and hit a side chest pose. He flexed every muscle and exploded with mind boggling mass. He looked to be as wide and thick as he was tall. Not to be outdone I quickly mimicked his pose. I could feel my incredibly pumped quads pressing against each other. My hamstrings and calves were so pumped they almost touched. Matt sat of the floor looking up at our massive bodies and let out a low whimper. I stepped closer and positioned my forearms behind my head. It was a battle just to place them behind my thick, swollen neck. Once secure, I flared my lats and tightened my abs. I positioned my feet and flexed my legs; showing the kid a horrifyingly huge ab/thigh pose. I grunted and flexed harder. My entire body shook from the strain. Clint stepped in front of me and started to caress my cobblestone-hard ab muscles. He wiped my sweat up my stomach and onto my dense, vein-covered lats. He took a step away and balled his fists. With laboured movement, he placed his hands behind his waist and stared to flare his lats. I stopped posing as his body started to expand. When I thought he had reached his maximum width he just smiled and flexed harder. His inhumanly wide body continued to grow. Before my eyes, Clint mutated into a beast that was no longer human. He grew into a seething mass of muscle and vein. “WORSHIP ME!” he screamed through gritted teeth and spit. As I stepped closer I felt; for the first time in many years, small. My hands trembled as I touched his granite hard pecs. I could feel the individual muscles and tendons quiver. My hands ran down his keg-sized forearms. I had never felt muscle so huge and hard. Matt made his way to his feet and stood beside me. He started to lick the sweat off Clint’s flexed biceps. His head looked minuscule next to Clint’s 28” bicep. Clint pivoted on his feet so we could worship his back. When he turned I let out a low whimper at the site. He was clearly wider than he was tall. Deep, striated mounds of back muscles covered every flexed inch. His bloated traps rose inches above his ears. Each lat muscle was so huge, I could barely see his forearms and elbows. As Matt and I ran our hands over his sweaty skin, Clint dropped his arms. As we both stared in awe of his now un-flexed back, Clint bent his arms and drove them back. Instantly his back solidified again. Deep striations erupted. Fine lines sliced across his lower back and up each compacted lat. Not wasting any time, Clint raised his hands up and flexed his grotesquely pumped arms. He then adjusted his left leg and flexed his glutes, hamstrings and calves. I dropped to the ground and grabbed hold of his flexed calve. My hand barely covered the back of the dense muscle. I could feel the fibres twitch. Matt grabbed hold of Clint’s underwear and ripped it off his body. I look up as he traced the deep striations on Clint’s glutes. Clint relaxed the pose again and turned to face us. “Stand up” he commanded. We complied. Clint reached out and grabbed both of our underwear a tore them off simultaneously. “Time to cum all over this freakishly huge body.” Clint said and proceeded to hit a most muscular pose. His massive body once again contorted and expanded before our eyes. “Look at ME! Look at all this power and mass! I’m the biggest, most muscular, roid-filled FREAK on the planet!” He bellowed. To even compare Clint to another mire bodybuilder would have been an injustice to the term. He continued to grow and flex his impossibly big body. The strain of the flex was evident on his face but he refused to stop. After holding the pose for 20 seconds he let out a loud growl and said “CUM! NOW!” Matt and I didn’t even have to touch our cocks before thick ropes of cum started to cover Clint’s body. Gallons of cum soaked his entire upper body. It dripped onto his pumped quads and started to puddle on the floor. Clint stopped the pose and held his arms out, relishing the affect he was having on both of his huge worshippers. When we had spent our last drop Clint threw Matt over his shoulder and wrapped his free arm around my waist hoisted me off the ground. With a grunt he rammed his rock hard cock up my ass. In an astounding display of raw power, Clint adjusted his hold on Matt so he could start sucking his still-hard cock. There in the middle of the gym; Clint power fucked me in mid-air while manhandling Matt with ease. I glanced in the mirror and came again at the sight. Clint let out a savage bellow and came all over my chest and abs. Clint dropped both of us and stepped away. He continued to jerk his massive cock and sprayed both myself and Matt with a massive load of cum. He was so pumped he looked downright terrifying. He stepped towards the mirror and started to worship his own freaky mass. He smeared cum and sweat all over his skin as he flexed. I was too spent to move. I just watched the humungous beast pose and flex. My muscle trance was broken by the sound of my cell phone ringing across the room. I managed to get to my feet and when I looked at my phone screen I saw a number of text messages; all from Tyler. The last one read - WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!
  17. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Hi there. It's Wednesday again! As promised, after posting early last week, here is the next chapter. This one is a little short. It has to be because there is a lot to come in the following chapters and this is the beginning of it all. Like and comment anything you may be feeling or any questions you may have. I'm open to conversation. As usual the links to the previous parts are above and enjoy. Tuesday: Meaningful Distractions "I wish Clarence didn't go away for the summer... I really miss him and his jokes,” Angelica said, although oblivious to me. My mind is elsewhere. We are in the auditorium listening to a lecture for our Biology class. We both despise the class but the school requires its students to take two science courses before they graduate and we have no choice. The professor, a slender blond woman with class, drones on about cellular respiration and I haven’t listened to one single word. Angelica was talking about all the fun times we had last semester. Clarence was a friend that transferred to a new school. This college was getting too expensive for him. “Von?" Angelica says. “Yeah…he was…hilarious in Bio,” I say. As cool as Angelica is, I am struggling to find what to say to her. It was hard for me focus on her without thinking about Troy and his girlfriend. I wish Ethan were here. He seems very insightful about these things. I mean… we can’t really talk about any of the private things Troy and I did in the locker room and shower, but he definitely understands that I may be losing my friend. "Is something on your mind? You look kinda down." "What? Oh no. It’s just after the spring session, it looks like so many of us are going our separate ways. And I like what we all had. And I don't even know how I could possibly stay in touch with everyone..." In a way I had just told her my feelings towards my friendship with Troy, but she didn’t know that. It’s April and school will be ending in May. Soon school will be over and we will have the entire summer to lose touch. His internship will be in the Fall so that means I will have an entire semester without him if I don’t also get accepted into the program. An entire summer is 3 months and then the fall semester lasts 4 months. He will return for spring classes, but that’s still 7 months to lose touch and then we will be graduating. Sucks to suck right? “Hey! Don’t worry!” Angelica says. “Jason, Zeus and I will always be your friends. But remember, a relationship is two sided and you have to put forth an effort to see us too. I haven’t seen you outside of class in weeks and it sucks.” “I’ve been a little preoccupied.” “Well get unoccupied and come see us! We miss you.” Now I feel bad. I had been neglecting my friends…people I have known since freshman year for Troy, a guy I had met in gym class. Even Ethan and I were a little distanced before Troy was out of the picture and I had known Ethan since high school. There's no way I can tell Angelica all of this. She'll think I have feelings for Troy or that I want to fuck him, but it’s much more complicated than that. I honestly don’t know what I want yet and if rumors spread because of her, everything will be ruined. “What could I do to keep our friendship alive?” I say. “I’m glad you asked. I’m going to The Lakeside Restaurant tomorrow evening with Zeus and Jason. We’re going swimming afterwards. Please come!” She flutters her pretty blue eyes at me and it’s not like I was going to say no so I just give into it. “Only if you give me a ride.” I say. “Deal! Ok, let’s try to listen to the last hour of this damn lecture.” Now that she stopped talking I had my thoughts to myself again. I have been thinking about telling Ethan the secret stuff that went down between Troy and I. It would definitely help with expressing how I feel and I am sure he would be smart enough to help me figure things out. The problem is that he’s not exactly homoerotic with me nor does he seem bisexual. The only hint at him being sexually deviant in anyway is that he gets boners while wrestling but that could be blamed on the rush of testosterone from exertion. I hope he would understand and not freak out on me. I know Ethan hasn’t shown as much interest in muscles as Troy has. He is nowhere near that level. Then again, I haven't even thought about flexing with or for Ethan. I mean I have but I have never thought of doing it for real. Maybe if I push Ethan's limits and find out if he has any homoerotic elements, then I can open up to him about Troy! Hmm… I think I have a plan.
  18. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Yo, I finished up this next chapter early so I'm posting it . I planning on writing the next one and posting it on Wednesday too. This section was really fun to write. I gets pretty intense in some places and I know you guys will love it. So here it is. A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains Monday: Resurgence Part 9 I’m standing in the locker room. I’m completely nude, but I don’t care. For the first time I don’t care if anyone walks in and sees me naked. My body looks great so why should I care? My pecs bulge out of my chest so much that my nipples point down. My lats are so swollen that they get in the way of my biceps. My biceps are rock hard with vascular veins pumping their way down my arms. My abs are rock hard, my ass is thick and my legs are as huge as tree trunks. I look down at my erect cock and smile; who wouldn’t want this cock? The locker room door suddenly opens and I look up to see Ethan walking in. His eyes bulge out of his head as soon as he sees. I give him a cocky smile, almost laughing at the bewildered look in his eyes. He stands frozen by the door. “Uh…What’s up man?” he says. He looks a bit embarrassed. His face is turning red, but he shouldn’t be. He’s not the one without any clothing. “Just getting changed into my compression shorts,” I say as I point to the bright red shorts on the bench. I turn towards him and continue to speak. My erect dick points in his direction and I know he is trying his best not to stare. “You gotten really big, man. Way bigger than when we first met. It’s amazing.” He slowly walks into to the bench beside me and takes his bag off his back. He starts removing clothes from it, not taking his eyes off of me once. “Like what you see?” I ask. His face turns red. I feel amazing. I love having this effect on people and when it’s a bro like Ethan, it’s even more amazing. “I…I…I want to see what your muscles looked like flexed…” “Really now?” I say with a smirk. “Yes…Could you flex for me? “I’m glad you asked.” I make my way closer to him and flex my pecs. They bounce up and down and I notice his breath hitch. “Have a feel,” I say. Within a second his hand is on my hard pec. He squeezes and I flex beneath his hand. I can feel my dick getting harder. I lift my right arm and flex my bicep. His hand makes its way to my biceps and he slowly caresses his hand across it. “You’re like a rock,” he says. “It’s not the only thing that’s a rock right now,” I say. We both look down at my dick. “Yeah, I can see.” BAM!! Ethan and I both jump. The bathroom door burst open with such force that the noise echoes through the entire locker room. We both look to see who it is. It’s Troy… and he is angry. He rushes over to us, his shoulders hunched up, grabs Ethan by the arms, and tosses him across the room. “Troy!” I scream. VRRRRRRRTTT…VRRRRRRRT…VRRRRRRTT… My eyes burst open and I see the ceiling. The sun’s morning glow caresses every surface of my bedroom. My phone is ringing. It’s what woke me up. I immediately grab my phone and answer the call. “Hello?” “Yo dude, what’s up?” “Ethan? It’s like...” I check the time on my phone. “9 am.” “Yeah, well I texted you and didn’t get an answer. I saw Troy after my 8am class this morning and he says today is a good day for a little wrestling.” “Really? What time?” “He’s only free at 10:30. He has a class at 12:30 and he wants to shower and get lunch before.” “That’s a little over an hour from now! I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet, Ethan!” “Well let’s go eat ASAP and meet him at the gym.” “Okay,” I say. I feel a sharp pain in my groin and look down at my swelling cock. I’m rock hard from my dream. I can’t ignore it either. “Give me 20 minutes to get there.” “Aight, cool. See ya man.” “See ya.” I hang up the phone and my hand is immediately on my dick. I usually sleep nude so it was easily accessible. Tossing the blanket to the side, I hastily begin tugging at my ever swelling meat. My body is craving the satisfaction of a good cum and I can already feel the energy building up in my body. I feel the energy flow from my cock up into my chest and my breathing gets heavier as this familiar spark of energy rushes through my veins. My hand continues to stroke even faster. Precum begins to leak from my cock onto my lower abs. The veins in my dick protrude as my blood pumps harder. I’m getting close. I’m moaning now. I can’t control myself because of how good I feel. The pressure in my nuts rises, the tension getting stronger and stronger and suddenly I burst. I suck in a large gasp of air as streams of cum begin to shoot out of my dick. My back arches as one jet, then two, and then another three jets of cum shoot out of my dick. The first shoots over my head onto my pillow, the second onto my shoulder and the last three onto my chest. My arm drops and I start to relax. “Fuck,” I say breathlessly. It’s been a while since I came this much. My breathing is slowed and more relaxed now so I grab the shirt I took off last night to clean the splattered cum off my chest. Thoughts of my dream start to come back to me. I imagine Troy throwing Ethan again and my chest aches. I could never see those two hating each other. Why was Troy angry and what does it mean? I have a bad feeling…a feeling like something horrible could happen, but I don’t know what could cause it to happen or why it would happen it all. Whatever may happen, I’m sure it has something to do with an altercation between Ethan and Troy. I look at the time on my phone. I have 10 minutes left to get dressed and then go meet Ethan. I go to my closet, put on some jeans and a T-shirt, and pack my backpack with my singlet. Then I’m out of my room and out of my frat house in a flash. “Bro, what’s on your mind?” Ethan says. We had been eating for about 10 minutes and our conversations had been shortened by periodic silences caused by me being lost in thought. He jerks me out of my thoughts and I look at him startled. “Nothing man. I’m just thinking of a dream I had.” “What was it about?” “Uhh… Just school stuff. I dreamt that I failed a test in my criminology class and then I had to drop out of school because I couldn’t finish my Criminal Studies major and then I died…” “Whoa, man! It was just a dream! None of that will actually happen.” Whew! He fell for it. There is absolutely no way I am telling him about the violent part of the dream. Maybe one day I’ll tell him about the worshiping. I love muscle worship, but I don’t know if Ethan does. Not yet. “I know. I’ll get over it. So how was your night?” I say as I scoop scrambled eggs into my mouth. I want the conversation to change. “Well after basketball yesterday I showered, ate dinner, and just chilled in my room. It was a pretty laxed evening. Not to be too personal, but every time I exercise I get a rush of testosterone so you can figure out what happened when I got alone in my room.” I laugh at him not so subtly admitting that he masturbated. “Bro, trust me,” I say. “I totally understand. This morning was pretty hard for me… wait I didn’t mean that! Shit!” Ethan spits out the milk he is drinking and we both burst into laughter. Ethan even ends up coughing a little. “Dude, I’m sure you said what you meant. I bet you were pretty hard,” Ethan says with a wink. This just puts me in another uncontrollable fit of laughter. It’s moments like these that I believe Ethan wouldn’t mind at all if I asked him to flex for me or vise-versa. Before we know it, it’s time to go wrestle and Ethan and I make our way over to the gym from the dining hall. We head over to the locker room as soon as we enter the gym and I begin to remember my dream again. I shrug off the thoughts. There’s no way that will happen. I open the locker room door to see one single person in the room, Troy, and he’s standing completely naked. He still has the round, full ass that I remember. His back is turned to us Ethan and I as he rummages through his locker. I look over to Ethan who seems pretty chill. Nothing unusual about a naked guy in the locker room right? He turns around and sees us. “Vonny!” he says. He gives me a huge smile and begins to walk over to me, still nude. His dick flops around as he comes near and I freeze up. He brings me into a tight bear hug and all I can think of is how strange this must look to Ethan, but this is typical Troy. He still feels as firm and strong as he did before. I guess muscle regression takes a little longer for him. “How have you been, bro?” I say as he lets go. “Hanging in there?” He looks over to Ethan. “What’s up, Ethan?” He walks over to Ethan, still naked, and gives him a handshake. “Nothing much, man,” Ethan says nervously. “I’m ready to kick both of your asses though!” I guess that nervousness was temporary. “Oh, really?” Troy and I both say. “Then let’s put our singlets on and wrestle!” I say to Ethan. We quickly change. Troy puts on his tightest grey compression shorts and a tight grey compression shirt. Ethan sports a dark blue singlet and I a black one. Once we are dressed we make our way over to the mats. “And so the fun begins,” says Troy. “Ethan, you and I go first. Winner takes on Von.” He moves his way to the mat and Ethan takes his position in front of him. I watch as the two beasts go at each other. Troy seems to have the upper hand. He’s about 30 pounds heavier than Ethan. I remember him saying he was 170 pounds in the past, but I have no clue how much mass he has lost since then. He is still strong though. He flips Ethan onto his back and slams him on the floor. I hear the breath leave Ethan’s body, but he doesn’t give up. He slips from beneath Troy and latches onto his back. Troy struggles beneath Ethan’s weight and lets out a deep grunt, his face turning red from the pressure. I watch in amazement as these two monsters go at each other and I feel the familiar surge of energy in my groin. “You can’t beat me, bro!” Troy says. He flips onto his back with Ethan on it. Ethan lets out a loud puff of air and he lets go. “Damn!” he says. Within a second Troy pins Ethan down again. I watch him struggle beneath him, the sweat dripping down his face. It’s nice to know that Troy still has his strength. After a few more rounds, Troy comes out as victor and it’s my turn to go up against him. “I thought you were top dog, Ethan!” I say to taunt him. “Guess today just isn’t my day, man,” he says. I look down and see a hard bulge protruding through his tight singlet. I smirk at it. “Alright,” Troy says pointing at me. “Your turn!” He looks at me with such determination. It has been so long since I’ve seen his eyes this bright. “Let’s go! Bring it” I say, edging him on. I move to the mat and suddenly he is on top of me. His thick pecs connect with mine and I feel his arms wrap around my back. His grip is strong and there is nothing I can do to break out. I miss how powerful he was and it seems that his strength hasn’t wavered at all. He is too strong, even for me and my body is repeatedly slammed and pinned to the ground. I’m amazed and in no way upset by his display of power. After a few rounds I am sweaty and tired, but Troy seems even more pumped. I can tell he misses this. He must miss exerting himself and feeling powerful like he is now. I feel a little sad for him. After he is finishes whooping me, we towel off. “That was the most fun I have had in a while,” Troy says to me and Ethan. “You’re telling me,” I say. “This is great!” I finally have my bro back. I feel that Ethan, Troy and I could be bros for life. “So Von, you wanna go for a workout? “says Ethan. “It’s only 12:00 and I don’t have class for a couple hours.” “That sounds great man,” I say. “You heading to lunch Troy?” “Yup, I’ll see you guys around.” He fists bumps us both and we separate. Ethan and I walk into the weight room and Troy out the gym door. We make our way over to a weight bench by the window. “So Ethan, I noticed you were a little happy down there earlier?” I say teasing. “Bro!” he says embarrassed. “You know how things get in the heat of the moment. Popping a boner is—“ He suddenly stops speaking. He is staring out of the window. I look in the direction he is looking and see what he sees. Troy is outside of the gym and he is yelling loudly at a girl in front of him. His back is turned to us and I can see the girl’s face. She has curly strawberry blond hair, freckles and glasses. It’s his girlfriend, Terri, and she is beyond pissed. They don’t notice us through the window, but I can hear their every word. “I told you never to go here again! You know I don’t want you looking like a fucking freak, Troy!” Terri says and begins to storm off. “I wasn’t working out, babe!” Troy cries. “I was wrestling with my friends!” He begins to follow her and their voices begin to fade as they walk away from the gym. “Wrestling!? Who wrestles!? I know that’s a lie. I know you are covering up and you were really in the weight room.” “But I fucking wasn’t!” “Don’t lie to me! Why can’t you do this one thing for me Troy!?” He speaks but he’s too far away to hear now. I stand beside Ethan in shock. I never imagined their relationship so…fiery. Ethan and I just look at them as they walk away. “What a bitch,” he says.
  19. With news of Mr. Kunitz’s imminent visit, Colin had the team on a strict training regimen and diet. Every day, we woke up early for a seven-mile run, which we now completed in less than 40 minutes. Before long, people in town started to gather to watch and cheer on a regular basis, amazed at the site of over 20 speeding muscle jocks. Local newspapers began to breathlessly label us as “the fastest powerhouse athletes the state has ever seen.” Colin used the attention to motivate us to go even faster. After the run, we would all sit down for breakfast. For most of us, that was composed of a 12-egg omelet and a 24-ounce steak, as well as large amounts of fresh fruit and vegetables. We kept the local supermarket so busy, they had to hire four new employees just to keep up with our orders. Breakfast was followed by three hours in the weight room, where we were throwing around incredible amounts of weight. Every day, someone had a record dead lift or back squat, which we just celebrated with more steaks and more intense lifting. The afternoons were reserved for study, or active recovery sessions on the field, doing light drills, and practicing fielding skills. Our forthcoming season looked promising, and major league baseball scouts started to stop by. After a few weeks of their awed observation, scouts from the NFL and even the British Rugby Union started to come by. Colin ate up the attention and adulation, but he also wisely channeled the energy to making the team even faster and stronger. Marcus seemed terribly rattled though. Every time we mentioned his father, he would lose focus on his training. Any progress he had made seemed to be lost, and he was still hovering at his starting weight of 140lbs. I couldn’t seem to jump start his training at all, so I went to talk to Colin about it after dinner. Colin and some of the team were out on the street throwing a football. Jackson was by his side, as always, and both were clad only in sweatpants. I watched in awe as Jackson tossed the football to Jeremy, and I still could not help but gawk at him. He was easily 6’ 8” now, and probably weighed 300lbs. His lats were flared out wide, even when he was relaxed, and his shoulders were inconceivably wide. The sweatpants hung obscenely low on his narrow hips, and he proudly displayed his 12 pack abdominals. The only thing holding them up was Jackson’s spectacularly round and muscular ass. Colin saw me on the porch and trotted over. “What’s up Greg?” asked Colin. “You are concerned about Marcus, right?” I was finally getting accustomed to looking up at Colin, as he now towered over me at 6’ 5”. “Yes Colin, I am. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to have his father come here right now. He was making such good progress. He’s very distracted, and I can’t seem to get him back on track.” “He’s going to grow Greg, everyone on this team is growing.” He put his massive hand gently on my shoulder as if to acknowledge that my own growth had slowed. I was stuck at 197lbs, and could not seem to break past the 200lb benchmark. “And you will grow as well. Do I have to remind you where we both were a few months ago?” He stepped back and patted his ripped, muscular midsection, and presented his stunning physique as evidence. At 224lbs now, he had gained an even 100lbs of pure muscle since we started training a few months ago. His biceps were enormous, and beyond comparison to a softball. His chest was literally a plate of armor, which was appropriate to support front and rear delts that could only compare to a melon. My eyes drifted down to his incredibly powerful legs, and started to think of all the speed running those quads were capable of. Colin was also proud of his calves, which were nearly as big as his biceps. “Greg, don’t you realize that YOU did this to me?” “Really Colin, you see it that way? I always thought your growth was due to your determination, and genetics.” “Greg, YOU are the one who lit that fire of determination in me. YOU built this!” I was a bit dazed at what Colin was telling me. This whole time, I had no idea what a key role I played in his, and then the team’s, remarkable growth. With that, Colin reached over and grabbed my wrist, just like he did with the car keys a few months ago. I was terrified of another humiliating showdown with Colin and tried to retreat, but he just barked at me “TRY TO RESIST ME NOW GREG.” And with that, I was able to ever so slightly budge his gargantuan forearms. My biceps flared up to a size most guys would kill for, even if it was on the small size for this team. It was only the slightest of movement, but not something I was capable of doing even a few weeks ago. Naturally Colin was still stronger than me, by an order of magnitude, and he was able to stop me after a few seconds. But it was very motivating to feel that glint of power. Colin saw the look of recognition on my face and smiled. “Greg, I know you can kick start training for both you and Marcus. You have the power.” With his words still ringing in my ears, I was jarred back to reality by the voices of the team in the street. I looked down and saw Terence, from the football team, pulling over his pickup truck. He stepped out with two of his teammates behind him. “What are you doing here Terence? I told you this house was off limits to you,” Colin said as his deep voice boomed down the street. “I just wanted to speak with you Colin,” said Terence, in an almost pleading tone. “You may approach,” said Colin, with authority. Terence and his pals trotted over quickly to Colin, who remained on the top step of the porch, arms crossed as he eyed his supplicants. “Jesus Christ, these guys are huge,” one of the team mates said in a loud whisper. “Colin, I’ll get to the point. I underestimated you. I underestimated the whole team,” said Terence, trying to quell the fear in his voice. “You’ve built the biggest, strongest baseball team in the state, maybe even in the whole country. I wanted to ask, can you train us on the football team too?” Colin didn’t say a word for a minute, he just let Terence’s desperate words hang in the air. “You want to get strong, like us, Terence?” “Yes Colin. All the scouts are coming here, but they are ignoring the football team. I think, with your training, we might change that.” “Strong like this?” Colin said, directing Terence to look at the street. And with that Colin nodded to Jackson, who still had the football in his massive hands. Jackson pulled the ball back overhead, his lats winding up with power, and in an instant, he spiraled the ball down the street like a bullet, right at Terence’s pick up truck. The football was projected with so much force, it crashed right through the windshield of the truck and kept going right out the back window, before it finally came to rest about 200 yards later. Terence turned to Colin in a daze, speechless. Colin said to him: “I’m not going to just train you Terence, I am annexing your team. You will tell everyone to follow my plans. Under my direction, we will become the first two-sport team in the history of college athletics. And then we will annex the soccer, basketball and lacrosse teams as well. Do you understand me, Terence?” With that, Jackson trotted over, arms on his hips, and stood behind the football trio. Terence turned around, with awe on his face, and looked up at the behemoth. “May I?” was all he could eke out. And with a nod from Colin, Terence started to grope and explore the Jackson’s muscle. His hand rested on the wings of Jackson’s traps, and all he could say was: “You feel like steel, Jackson. THIS IS POWER.” With just a glancing side eye, Jackson’s hand shot over, grabbed Terence’s shoulder, and sank him to his knees effortlessly. Colin just chuckled and said “Terence, THAT is power. You will learn soon enough.” With that, Colin ordered Coach Conway to start integrating the football team. Then he looked over to me and said, “You have some training to do yourself, brother.” Feeling inspired by the displays of power I had seen, I ran into the house to find Marcus. He was sitting quietly on his bed, studying. He had clearly given up on working out that day. “Marcus, what is bothering you?” I demanded. “Why are you so upset that your father is coming?” “Greg, my father has been disappointed by my lack of athletics my whole life. He funds this team because he is a football alumnus of the school, not because he believes in me. He only ever came to our baseball games to watch Jackson, not me. And the only reason he calls Colin is to get updates on Jackson. If he comes here, he’s going to take one look at everyone else and be disappointed all over again. It’s going to fill me with rage, and I’m powerless to do anything about it.” I was getting angry myself, listening to his self-defeating talk. I took his chin in my hands, and forced him to look up at my eyes. “Marcus, does he make you angry, your father?” I demanded. “Yes,” he said, a bit fearful of my demeanor. “Then USE that anger to grow Marcus! Instead of your father, think of yourself!” Even I was a bit thrown off by my aggressive stance. Marcus quivered for a minute as I held his chin. Neither of us said a word as he tried to process what I was saying. Then he looked right up at me, and I could see a steely gaze come over his face. He chin, and his whole body, stopped quivering, and there was a dark look in his eyes. He stared at me, unblinking. At first I was overcome with a chill, and then I knew I had tapped into something primal in Marcus, and he was tapping me right back. He reached over and grabbed my wrist and pulled it away from his chin. Marcus surely wasn’t strong, but I could tell his attitude had changed dramatically. In a deep, confident tone, he said, “Let’s start lifting Greg.”
  20. Most recent chapter: Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped Chapter 15: Casey’s First Interview with Sergeant Moster In the main building, Gunst, dressed in regulation baggies and sweatshirt, was waiting for Casey and Moster with a set of keys. As directed. “Good morning, private,” said Moster. “Good morning, sir.” “Hey,” Gunst said to Casey, a little cool. “Hi,” said Casey. Right away he was intimidated by Gunst’s size. “Got everything?” Gunst asked him. “Wha-….yeah. I got everything.” “Take him to his quarters,” said Moster. “Casey, come to my office after you’ve moved in. 3:30. I want a few minutes with you before you meet the men this afternoon. My office is over there. Red door. I’ll see you then. And don’t be late.” He strode away, without waiting for an answer. “Yes, sir,” said Casey meekly, watching him go. Gunst gave him a hard smile. “Let’s go, then. To your new home.” He turned and walked to the end of the main hall. Casey stared, hypnotized by his thick traps, his broad batwing lat spread as he strode away, and then coming back to himself, hurried to catch up. Gunst led Casey down several long corridors. They turned right, turned left, passed about 10 doors, turned right again. Casey began to worry that he was going to get lost in this huge place. Then Gunst stopped. He unlocked a door. “Welcome. Your quarters. Enter and sign in.” He held the door open for Casey, who hesitated. “No, after you.” “Okay.” Gunst went in, and Casey followed him, his heart beating wildly. His new room was a single. Though it was not the first time in his life he’d had a room to himself, this one was big, and it was all his. The ceilings must have been 12'. All the ceilings in the Home were that high. But this was different. He was speechless. There was a main living room with two deep comfortable sofas, a wall of full-length mirrors, a large posing dais with lights, a big dinner table, a desk and four deep, cushy chairs. There was an entirely serviceable open kitchen, a broad glass door to an outside enclosed private terrace, a sizeable bedroom, and big bathroom with an extra-large shower with about 100 different nozzles and spigots, and what looked like an second, somewhat squat toilet. That, he couldn’t quite figure out. “What’s that?” he asked Gunst, pointing to it. “Your bidet.” “My wha-?.....” “Cleans your butt. You’ll need it.” “I keep clean.” Casey was offended. Did they think he was an animal? “Trust me.” The bed was a super king, broad and deep, with a mirrored ceiling so he could see his muscles as he woke up in the morning. The bright terrace continued outside the bedroom with a second entrance, and was open to the sky. The rooms were filled with light, but there was no view. No one would have been able to see in. Casey was a little disappointed. He’d hoped he could see down the mountain, and maybe even the Pacific roiling in the distance. In the corner opposite the terrace door stood the 6 8’-0” 3-paneled mirrors, in front of the dais. Overhead, spotlights were aimed at the dais. In front was a brand new video camera on a tripod. Casey regarded it a moment. “Wow. A camera.” “Yeah. We all get em. Record your progress. Tape your posing.” “This is no bullshit,” Casey breathed, stunned. “No, no bullshit. They’re serious. It’s all about muscle and getting bigger. Hop on, sport,” said Gunst., indicating the dais. He switched on the overhead lights. Cool spots of filtered white-rendered LED light shone from above. Casey stepped onto the dais and gazed at himself in the center pane of the mirror. In his reflection, his t shirt clung sweatily, his superhuman muscles rippling powerfully. He was transfixed at his reflection. “Wow,” he said, whistling. “Ain’t you seen yourself before?” “Not like this.” “Well, you’re big, dude. Real big. Big and hard. Zaftig and Moster got special plans for you.” He paused a moment while Rockland raised his arms and slowly flexed a front double biceps into the mirror. Shit, thought Gunst. His arms look bigger n’ mine. Fuck. His eyes drifted down to Casey’s perfect bubble butt, covered by his grey baggies. A deep butt crack pulled the loose fabric tightly into the shadows of his ass. “Awesome glutes.” “Thanks, man.” Casey now at work, working his way through his mandatories. He glided from pose to pose with ease. Gunst half-smiled, and took a step towards the door. He’s just a kid, he thought. A superhuman huge kid made of muscle, yeah, but just a kid. “You know how to work the camera?” “No,” said Casey, admitting it, humiliated as he always was at being so dumb. Gosh, I’m dumb, he thought. “It’s easy. Come down here.” Casey stepped off the platform and moved close to Gunst. As always he was intimidated, standing next to muscle bigger than his, but he said nothing. Gunst felt the heat wafting off the kid but studiously ignored it. He showed Casey the video cam. “Switch on here. Battery will always be charged. They’ll do that for you. Open the LED screen like this.” Gunst pushed a button and the screen flipped open, a little blue wall with menu items printed. “Then push this.” He pushed another button and the red blinking light and the REC menu appeared in the window. “Awesome.” “You following this?” “Yeah.” Actually, he was. After all, this was how he was going to record his own muscle. Of course he was following. “It’s aimed and focused to the dais and set for the proper lights. Switch off the room lights when you use it for best res.” “Okay.” “Got it?” “Yeah.” Gunst doubted it. “Okay, man, I’m gonna split now. You settle in. Be in the gym and ready to work at 1600 hours.” “Okay.” Casey studied the camera and then thoughtfully stepped back on the dais without switching it on. “That’s 4 PM.” “Okay.” “It’s noon. You got four hours before training and three and a half before you meet Sergeant Moster for debriefing in his office. Remember where his office is?" "Yeah." He didn't. Gunst smirked a little. "Go out the door, turn left, head to the main corridor, turn left again. Walk to the bulletin board past the cafeteria entrance. Turn right. Red door." "Okay." Casey was looking at himself in the mirrors. He wanted to pose some more. He thoughtfully flexed a powerful forearm, inspecting cables of veins. Gunst gave up. After all, it was his ass. "Eat and get some rest. Check out your refrigerator. They prepared some meals for you. Have a couple of steaks and a few chickens.” “Okay,” said Casey, already dreamily posing for himself. He hit another double bi. He was headed back to his distant mountain on his private planet. Gunst watched Casey as he hypnotically posed. Damn, the kid looked good. Casey slipped out of his shirt and threw it on the floor and hit a crab shot. Gunst, impressed in spite of himself, shook his head, and headed for the door. “Don’t wear yourself out, dude. Four hours. Three and a half, really.” “Okay.” "Take a shower. You stink." "Okay." Gunst started out. “Can I ask you a question?” Casey asked shyly, stopping his posing a moment. “What?” “How much you weigh?” Gunst smiled, hard faced. “375,” he said. “Shit, man.” “Yeah. You?” “310.” “So I’m bigger.” “Yeah,” said Casey. Gunst turned to go. “For now,” Casey added. Gunst looked back at him and grunted noncommittally. He left the room, closing the door, leaving Casey alone to ponder the wonders of his own physique. “Damn,” he breathed quietly to himself. That dude is huge. But then again, Casey hadn’t entirely realized that he looked this good. Good, yes. But not THIS good. As Gunst walked back up the corridor to his own room he felt a sudden impulse to run off to the gym again and spend the next hour doing punishing curls. For now?? The little asswipe actually had the balls to say this to him? But he knew it was true. It was just for now. This kid could surpass everyone. Including Moster. P21 may have been a miracle drug, but muscle recovery was still necessary, and as it was Gunst had spent a good hour just the night before curling hundreds of pounds. But damn. That kid’s biceps were sick. Sick. Unreal. He had to get his bigger. Bigger, harder, more vascular. He had to dwarf the kid’s arms when, on some inevitable future date when Moster lined them up next to each other barked out FRONT DOUBLE BICEPS to both of them, Gunst could raise his arms to the almighty skies and curl up a walloping huge double bi’s that would force the musclepuppy Casey into a shameful corner. But he knew that wouldn’t happen. Casey was just too big, too hard, too perfect – and only 18. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Gunst went to his room and stretched out on his bed, suddenly depressed. A few minutes later he got up and ate six chicken breasts. And then lay down again, resting, willing his arms to recover, to get bigger. Shit. Damn. Fuck. After about 10 minutes of posing, Casey, innocent of the turmoil he was already causing in the quad, felt both hungry and thirsty. He stepped off the platform, gave a last look at himself in the mirror, and did a side chest. Pop. Pow. Yeah. He wandered into his kitchenette. A surprisingly good-sized, double door industrial grade refrigerator (stainless steel, reflecting, naturally, so he could see himself) was center in the wall. He opened it up and was surprised to see three 5-gallon water bottles, shelves of Tupperware containers filled with cooked, cold bloody rare steaks and cooked chicken breasts, some prepared salads and tuna salad. He grabbed a whole steak and gobbled it in three bites, then drank a full quart of water. He opened the vegetable drawer. Unlike other young bodybuilders - stupid assholes - who turned their noses up at vegetables, at anything 'green', Casey craved fresh veggies. The drawer was full, he happily noted. He fished around and found some tomatoes and fresh celery stalks. He popped four whole tomatoes - "Vitamin C!" as Miles would have said - and began gnawing on a stalk. He closed the door and gazed thoughtfully at his reflection in the stainless steel. Miles. He really missed him. He hadn't seen him now for - what? - a year? More? Miles would be so proud of him. Maybe he could get out some time, go to Raw Weight, see Miles, and maybe pose a little with him? He sure hoped so. And....maybe something more, too. He belched softly and headed back into the main room to start unpacking. He raised an arm, sniffed at an armpit. Yeah, he did stink. A shower would come next. A knock came at the door. He answered it, the gallon water bottle still in his hand. It was Private Lang. He was dressed in an-all black skin-tight bicycling suit and was carrying a helmet. He dripped with sweat. “Hey,” said Casey, eyeing Lang evenly. He too was handsome, and he too had a heavy sagging cock bulge in front. Casey guessed they all wore clothing to show themselves off to their best advantage. But why did they all look like male models? Even Gunst, big and broad and homely, looked like he belonged in a magazine. Or on the movie screen. Or on TV. “Hey. Welcome. Listen, haven’t got much time. Moster will be here in a second. Want to warn you about something.” Casey was annoyed and awed for a moment by Lang’s two-day scruff and perfect hair. Damn. Fucking good looking dude. Shit, now what? What did he just say? Something else he had to worry about? “Come on in.” The heavily muscled Lang gazed briefly up and down at the shirtless Casey, lingered his gaze a moment on his bulging crotch, considered a moment, but then said, “No, thanks. Another time. Believe me.” “Sergeant Moster’s not coming. Come on in.” “No. Another time.” “Okay. So what’s up?” “You gotta watch out for Tiffany.” “Don’t I know it.” Lang fumbled in his fanny pack and pulled out a small pill bottle. He handed Casey a white capsule. “Something else, too. Take this before the workout.” Casey played dumb. “What is it? Drugs?” “Naw. Well, yeah. I guess. We all take ‘em. They’re not toxic and they’re not hallucinogens, but it’ll make you feel stronger and more confident, and they free up your…..well, natural inhibitions.” “Haven’t got any.” “Bullshit. You’re scared as hell, even Hension can see it. Hell, if I can see it, then, dude, you’re scared.” “I’m not fucking scared.” “Anxious, then. Nervous. Anyway, you should be.” “Why should I take this? What is this, anyway? You guys all trying to punk me?” “No! Trust me, dude. Take it. By the time the workout is under way you’ll be ready for anything. What do you normally single-arm curl?” “170 pounds.” “Take one and you’ll curl 220. Single arm.” Fuck! Casey grabbed for it, popped it down his mouth, and took a chug of water. Then he grinned. “Thanks! Sure you don’t want to come in a moment? We could pose together.” “Yeah…..I would…..but later. Gotta go.” He looked nervously down the corridor and scooted away. Casey closed the door. He unpacked some muscle magazines, his new jockstraps and do-rag, his iPod and laptop, and started to set up his new video camera on a tripod. He liked to record his posing practices, and with the dais and the mirrors and the new lighting he was already excited. He dropped to the floor and reeled off a fast150 push-ups. He needed to jerk off soon, but was interrupted by another knock at the door. This time it was Waring. He looked like he had just gotten out of the shower, his hair slicked back, his clothes tight and plastered against big muscles. “Whassup, dude?” he asked. “Welcome.” He extended a calloused hand. Casey leaned against the door and crossed giant arms. Another handsome dude. He didn’t shake. He blew out air, looked at him levelly, and just waited. Shit. After all, all these dudes had shot their cum all over him just 12 hours ago. Didn’t they remember? It was kinda weird they all seemed to have either forgotten, or just didn’t care. Or maybe they did it all the time to each other? Whatever. He was here to get big. There was a long pause. “Okay, I guess you’re just settling in and not ready to receive guests. I got something for you anyway. House-warming gift.” He held out a fist, opened it, revealing a capsule. Casey looked it and gazed at him, not taking the bait. “Don’t you want to know what it’s for?” “Lemme guess. My inhibitions? Give me a boost? I can curl 3,000 pounds? Protect me from Tiffany? Make me millions?” “Okay, who was here before me?” “I don’t remember his name. Good-looking guy with black hair. You’re ALL good-looking guys with black hair.” “Some are blond, some ginger, some bald. How old?” “Old. I don’t know. 27?” “Mustache?” “No.” “Bicycle clothes?” “Yeah.” “Lang.” Waring looked around. “Did he give you one already? Did you take it?” “Yes, and yes.” “Good.” He held out the capsule. “Keep it. Take it anyway. I took two once,” he added, and smiled to remember a particularly hot ‘Pose and Approve’ session with both Alvarez and Lang, after which, unfortunately, he was not invited to return. Not yet, anyway. “Sure you don’t want to come in?” Casey gestured ironically, but he wouldn’t have minded. A little double-posing practice would be a good workout. But once again, all he got was the once-over. Waring paused a little and grinned, his face turning pink, but shook his head. “No, I gotta run. Bye.” And he loped off down the corridor. Casey closed the door. Whatever. All these dudes were weird, muscle or no. He took the second White Caps, flexed a few more minutes in front of the mirror, waited for something to happen. Nothing. Suddenly he was tired, so he decided to grab a nap. He went to his room, kicked off his boots, tore off his sweatpants and jock, and sprawled naked onto the huge bed. He was instantly asleep, dreaming vaguely of his muscle planet. When he woke up, the light in the room had changed, but he didn’t notice it. All he could think of was his dick, hugely and almost painfully hard. He was ready to go, now. The caps? Maybe. He masturbated on his bed, formally initiating himself to his room. He watched his reflection in the ceiling mirror as he pumped his big shaft. Within 30 seconds he came, his cum spurting high and splashing the glass of the mirrored ceiling and plopping down onto the sheets, staining them deeply with pools of cum. “Shit,” he said. He got up went into the bathroom and closed the door. He shat heavily and pissed about 2 gallons with heavy ropes of piss splashing into the toilet. He stared suspiciously at the bidet, and then at the shower. There were the seemingly dozens of jets and spigots and controls, but after a few minutes of carefully testing, he got it to work. He showered for about 10 minutes, washing himself off carefully, loving the jets of steaming hot water that hit every angle of his physique. He stepped out and grabbed a huge towel off the rack. It was warm to the touch, as if it had just been taken out of the drier. Damn, it felt good. He draped it around himself and went back into his room. His sheets had been changed. The ceiling mirror was clean. Fuck. Who the hell had been in here while he was in the shower??? And his workout clothes were laid out on the bed. Oh well. Guess he had invisible maids, too. He changed, and went to the kitchenette to get a bite of chicken and another jug of water. On the counter there was a note: I let myself in. Hope u don’t mind. Take this pill. It will help. C U later in the gym. --- Hension Next to the note was another capsule. What the hell? He took it. He looked at his watch. 3:40 PM. “Shit! Shit!” he shouted. Late again! He tumbled into his sweatshirt, and ran off to meet Moster in his office. ******** 15 minutes later, Casey stood at attention in front of Sergeant Moster’s desk. “Well, Cadet,” said Moster. “Late again. Very late. At ease. Let’s talk awhile. Have a seat.” He gestured to a flat bench used for bench presses. Casey dutifully lowered his bulk onto the bench and leaned forward anxiously, resting his elbows on his thighs. Sweat rolled down his torso. He wiped his eyes and stared ahead of him. He wasn’t going to get punished for being so late? He had run all the way from his quarters to the office and got lost six times. He finally had to ask some Puerto Rican kitchen kid – oh, yeah, the kid who was there last night, sucking all the musclemen’s cocks while he wrestled Abdul – where the hell Moster’s office was. The kid had stared at him hungrily but Casey wasn’t about to get into it. “Down there,” he’d pointed, and Casey ran off. This time he found it. He saw none of the other men. Moster came out from around the desk and approached, looking him over. “Rockland – I mean Casey … - I’m going to get right to it. You show great potential. Big muscles, lots of strength, good flexibility, tall, young, still growing.” “And I got good bones. You and Dr….” He paused. He couldn’t recall the dude’s name. “Dr. Zaftig.” “Yeah, Dr. Zaftig, you both said so last night.” Didn’t Moster remember last night either? Fer crissakes. “Yes, and good bones, yes.” He stood in front of Casey. “Do you have questions?” Casey looked up at the Sergeant plaintively. About a million of them, actually. But he said nothing, and shook his head. His eyes roamed up and down his CO’s massive physique. Moster’s shiny black biceps exploded out of his white t-shirt, with veins thick as snakes, lining the peaks and networks of pumping blood vessels criss-crossing his forearms. His hands, resting lightly on his hips, were enormous, with thick fingers, white, trimmed fingernails and long, powerful thumbs. His neck was impossibly huge, and his traps sloped powerfully into massive deltoids. His lats flared out almost horizontally. Casey had never seen so much muscle. And in his pants, his package drooped casually from his fly down along his right thigh in his uniform trousers. The massive bulge extended nearly to his knee. Casey gulped and licked his lips a little. He could see the mountain of cockhead corona and make out the deep piss slit, even through the thick fabric. Moster’s gaze never left his eyes. “Well, Casey?” “Sergeant Moster, what is this place really about? Why are we here?” “You’ve been on campus two years. You should know. We’re Valhalla Labs.” “Yeah, I know that. But what is it? Really is it?” “Valhalla Labs is a unique training facility. Here we build and train the finest specimens of men on earth.” “But just bodybuilders.” Moster looked down into Casey’s eyes, slightly startled. “Yes, just bodybuilders,” he confirmed. “There are other kinds of men who get built. Gymnasts. Swimmers. Football players.” “Yes.” “So why just bodybuilders?” Moster paused a moment. “Son,” he said, pacing, “don’t you want to be here?” Casey fell all over himself replying. “Oh, yes, sir, I do want to be here, sir, and nowhere else!” “So….is there a problem?” “No, sir, no problem AT ALL. But….why are we here?” And he still didn’t ask, pointedly, about the wrestling and the cum job and all the craziness from the night before. Moster paused again, and spoke in a measured tone. “The Nineteen – and now, with you, The Twenty – are potentially the finest specimens of male musculature on the planet. Most bodybuilders, power lifters, weight lifters, look mighty impressive, but, you know, they have all sorts of internal problems. Bad hearts. Very bad livers and kidneys. Bad skin. Small testicles. High cholesterol. Bad blood pressure. Boils, scars. They smell bad. No endurance. And…..too often….they have very tiny cocks.” Casey had to admit it was true. “But not here. Here we build men who will last. When you, son, reach your 50th birthday, you’ll look much the way you do now. When you reach 70, God willing, you’ll look like a man of 40. Do you know how old I am?” Casey paused a moment. “28?” he ventured. “I’m 48. 49 next month.” “No shit.” “No shit. Let’s see your biceps, son. Remove your sweatshirt.” Casey complied and meekly flexed his guns. He smiled hopefully. “Are they okay?” he asked nervously, flexing, looking from arm to arm, glancing hopefully at the dancing triple peaks of each biceps. “You know they’re better than just ‘okay’. Or you should know. Good God, you’re still reticent?” “Re- ti – what?” “Still shy? Don’t you feel strong, son? Don’t you feel huge and powerful?” “Not next to you, sir.” Moster was touched in spite of himself. “Stand up, son,” he directed, peeling off his shirt and heading over to a broad expanse of mirror. “Come over here and join me.” He bent and began to unlace his boots. Casey got up and trotted over to join Moster at the mirror. Instinct told him it might not be a good idea to tell him just at present that he had recently taken three white caps. So far he hadn’t felt anything unusual. But then, he’d had a long nap, too. Maybe you weren’t supposed to take white caps and then immediately go to sleep. “Kick off those shorts. Your jock, too. Strip down.” Casey did as he was told, pulling his jock down shyly. Moster unbuckled his belt, peeled down his trousers, kicked off his boots and rose, ripping off his t-shirt. His massive muscles bloomed with gigantic power. He was wearing a powerfully knit bright red posing suit underneath his trousers that magnificently displayed his bulging tool. “All our posing suits are privately made. Otherwise, they won’t fit. See?” First he grabbed the side straps and pulled up. The pouch loomed magnificently, full of Moster’s massive penis and balls. He moved from side to side, showing the strength of the suit. “Actually there’s some steel mesh in there. You get used to it.” Then he pulled down the poser from the side straps and, one foot at a time, stepped out of it. His cannon firehose flopped out and down heavily and loudly slapped his quads. “Face the mirror, Cadet,” said Moster. Casey obeyed and turned, and together the two musclemen stood naked in front of the mirror. Wow. Casey knew he had never seen – no, nor imagined – bigger muscles, nor a bigger engine like the one Sergeant Rod Moster was sporting between the walls of each diamond-shaped quad. He stared at it, slack jawed, his mouth dangling open, amazed. From the beautiful muscle jewel-setting that was Moster’s lower rectus abdominus to the ridge of shrink-wrapped muscle from which plunged the massive, thick shaft, Moster’s massive, huge, perfect monster penis was a thing of beauty. A few moments passed, and Casey finally spoke. “You have a very big dick, sir. Begging your pardon.” “Yes, quite the tool, isn’t it?” Moster said expansively, waggling it from side to side. “It might even be the biggest in the world. Anyway, no recorded penis has been found to be bigger.” He looked down appraisingly at Casey’s organ, “Yours appears to be almost as big, I see.” “No, not, really, sir.” “Oh, yes, I think it is. Close, anyway. Let’s see you wave it back and forth. Like this.” He began to whip his penis noisily from side to side. It slapped loudly on his quads. “Go ahead. I know you can do it. I saw you do it for the boys in your room this morning.” Casey was mortified, remembering. “Try it, cadet.” “Okay.” He waved it back and forth timidly. “No, throw some energy into it. Be a man!” Moster continued to slap his cock against his quads. Casey gulped and began to whip his engine a little faster, a little harder…..and suddenly he was surprised to hear slaps as loud as Moster’s coming from his own extremities as his ample cock made contact with his muscular quads. Moster reached down and grabbed Casey’s member in a powerful fist and began to squeeze. Casey was stunned. “Sir!” “Relax, Private. I know you’re a grower. I want a demonstration.” He began to powerfully stroke the penis, and in his grip Casey immediately became erect. “Very nice indeed. 12 inches? More?” “I’m not sure….” “Zaftig sure knows how to find them.” Casey was getting dizzy. A heavy glob of precum appeared from the piss slit, ran over Moster’s fist and dripped onto the floor. “Nice,” said Moster. “Good boy. Have you masturbated yet today?” Casey was mortified. He took a step back and his thick penis popped from Moster’s enveloping fist. Moster let it go. “Yes…..” “How many times?” “Just once.” “Right.” He walked back to his desk, his penis waggling mightily as he walked, and hit a key on his laptop, which dinged. He read a message, looked up and smiled. He returned. “Yes, I see that you did, about 25 minutes ago.” “Wha-a-a-a-a- t?!!?” “The cleaning report came in.” Cleaning report?? Christ, the sheets. They file this stuff? “Are you guys spying on me?” “We’re going to monitor your activity, yes. We do this for all the men.” “Do they know?” “Yes, of course they know. Many of them relish it. The men like to be on cam. Is this going to be a problem for you?” Casey decided to change the subject. “Sir, it embarrasses me. I have to jerk off about 5 or 6 times a day.” “Seems that you’re off schedule then, if you have only masturbated once so far.” “Well, it’s been a weird day.” “Don’t let me stop you.” “I’m not gonna do it now!!!” Casey was getting more and more mortified. What was all this, anyway?? “No, of course not. You still have the societal blockers in place that prevent that. So do the men, actually, in my presence. They wouldn’t do it either while in this office. Of course, at meal times, in the gym, on the track outside, wherever or whenever they feel they have to, they whip out their dicks and go for it. You saw that last night, actually.” Finally. “Last night was really, really weird,” said Casey. “You’ll get used to it.” “I will?” “Yes, and with talent like yours, the men will be very eager for you to start joining them in priapic exercises.” Hunh? “You’ll find out. In time. Meanwhile, you should be very proud. Your penis is one of the finest specimens I have ever seen. And I have seen thousands of the best of the best. Yours is….well… rivals mine.” Shit, thought Casey. Really? Sudden he got a little coy. “Gee, and I have always been ashamed of my big dick.” “Really. Why?” “I can’t….hide -… it….” Casey colored deep red and looked down at himself. There it was, looming out from his body, huge and solid. “And why would you want to hide it?” “You hide yours!” Casey blurted. “Or you try to.” “That’s different. I’m in command. And the men all know now about my superior tool. If I showed it all the time, it would lead to all kinds of problems.” Moster bent and pulled up his posers and trousers, carefully wrapping his giant engine securely in the folds of pants fabric. He squatted slightly, reached into the waistband of his slacks, and positioned the shaft so that it lay, lazy and secure, against his right quad. Then he went back to his desk. “Get dressed now. But hang on.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small vial, then walked back to him and leaned in quietly. He spoke low into Casey’s ear, and raised his palm surreptitiously. In his hand was a single white capsule. “Take it,” he said. Not again. He was already feeling – well, not high, exactly, but close. He was dubious – after all, he had already taken three – but what the hell. He pretended innocence, and he made his face appear anxious. “What is it? Drugs? I’ve never done drugs.” “This is pure P21. The drug of choice. Take it.” “Will I be okay?” he asked, wanting to trust him. I hope so, Casey thought. I took three of those little suckers. “You’ll be fine,” assured Moster, and he meant it. “Frankly, yes. It is a drug. It will not hurt you - but it will do something to your perception of yourself. Take it. Now.” “Okay.” Casey nodded dumbly and bolted it down. Inside he was elated, excited, wondering if this new mystery supplement was a new kind of steroid, able to produce great surges of strength and growth. Then he looked up hopefully at Moster, now sitting back at his desk, easy in his chair, his legs wide before him, open to the world. “Meet us in the rec room after your shower for post workout eval.” “Yes, sir,” said Casey. Inadvertently his gaze lowered to the Sergeant’s lap. He stared at the bulge. Wow, he thought again. Damn. “Good. Now get to the gym and get started. Some of the men will be there. You have some serious lifting to do. I’ll join you presently.” He pushed an intercom button. “Dr. Irving?” “Yes?” came the voice on the squawk box. “Get the camera ready and head to the big gym. You'll find everything you need in the locker room. Dr. Irving is there ahead of you. He'll set you up. Get moving now.” “Yes, Sergeant Moster.” "And don't dawdle." He checked his watch. "You're already 20 minutes late. The men were expecting you at 16:00 hours. They don't like to be kept waiting." "Are they all there?" "By now, yes." "They gonna jerk off all over me again?" Moster smiled. "No, not tonight. Frankly, you have them all a little too worried about themselves to pull anything like that again so soon. Besides...." Casey waited for it. "Besides what?" Moster smiled. "Nothing. We talk again after your workout tonight. Then dinner and then bed for you. Get going now." Click click click. Moster was typing. Casey stood still, uncertain. Moster looked up. “I said get going, Casey.” Casey nodded, dumbly wordless. Gee, he types fast, he thought. He pulled on his sweatshirt and scampered out the door. After a moment he was back. “Sergeant Moster?” he asked, shy and frightened. “Yes, Cadet Rockland?” “…um..….which way IS the gym….?” Moster had to smile in spite of himself. He pushed back from the desk and rose. “Okay. We'll go together.” He approached Casey, looked him over with brief approbation, and nodded to himself. This kid was something else. Just what he had been waiting for. Just right for his plans. Just right for the big picture. The picture Zaftig wasn't aware of. Yes, everything was going smoothly. He headed on down the corridor. Casey followed him, submissively scampering a few steps behind. It was going to be his first workout as one of The Twenty. He felt both scared and powerful. And just a little pissed off, as the White Cap began to work on him. Those dudes weren't gonna jerk off on him again, any time soon. He'd see to that. He knew what he had to do. Okay. Time to go train. ********** Want to reread "The Twenty" from the beginning? Click here for "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Precis, Introduction, and Chapters 1 & 2
  21. Newmassaddict

    growth Growth Part 11

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE Part 8 HERE Part 9 & 10 HERE 11 Clint was woken by the sound of clanging metal from the gym downstairs. He felt a pang of anxiety in his stomach. Even at almost 400lbs of the biggest, hardest muscle imaginable; the thought of what Matt was doing in the gym caused slight panic. He also became instantly aroused. Matt had taken to Clint’s training program with a level of determination he had never witnessed. Matt would torture his body to the point of collapse. There were days Clint found it hard to keep up with his intensity. The bodybuilding competition made something snap in Matt’s brain. His reaction to seeing Tyler easily dominate the entire lineup of top-level bodybuilders triggered a level of manic rage Clint was psychically afraid for the first time in his life. As they left the auditorium that night Matt was visibly shaking. Clint's attempts to calm him were useless. As they walked through the parking lot Clint could visibly see Matt’s growing body swelling larger. At 240lbs Matt had already surpassed any expectations Clint had. He was growing so fast and didn't seem to be slowing don anytime soon. Clint reached up to grab Matt’s shoulder but he spun around and glared at Clint “WHAT!” he screamed. “Matt! You need to calm down. Your time will come. I have no doubt you’ll be as huge as Tyler in no time.” “As huge?! Do you think that’s what I want? I want to dwarf that fucking asshole. I don’t want to beat him, I want to DESTROY him. I’m going to be twice as massive as his wildest dreams.” “And you will Matt; in time.” Clint said. “NO! I can’t wait. I need more size, more mass, NOW!” Matt bellowed in reply. Then something in Matt snapped. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. His already tight hoodie looked stretched to it’s limits. Matt walked up to a nearby car and punched the driver’s door leaving a deep dent. Clint stepped closer but Matt shot him a look that said “back off”. He unleashed a lightening fast combo to the door causing the heavy metal to buckle. He then grabbed hold of the sides of the dented door and started to pull. The sound of screeching metal filled the parking lot. Matt let out a low growl and pulled harder. Suddenly the driver’s door came loose. Matt held the mangled door in his arms and started to compress the dense metal. His eyes were wild and thick veins pulsed across his face. Within minutes the door was a twisted lump of metal. Matt tossed it 30 feet across the parking lot. Matt was breathing heavily when he positioned himself at the back of the car. He bend down and placed his hands under the bumper. He braced his legs and started to lift. HIs arms trembled and sweat beaded on his forehead. “You’ll hurt yourself” Clint tried to reason with Matt “plus; someone will see you.” “N-Not yet” Matt mumbled through gritted teeth “Need to grow; need more muscle.” Matt lifted his head, closed his eyes and exerted even more power. The back of the car started to lift. Clint stared in awe as Matt deadlifted the back of the car. When Matt reached his full height, the car was six inches off the ground. He had witnessed plenty of roid rage in his life but Clint had never seen such raw, primal rage. He saw a few people heading in their direction and decided it was time to get out of there. Clint grabbed the kids pumped up shoulders. The kid tried to move away but Clint applied more pressure. He leaned in and whispered “That was one amazing show of strength stud but we have to get the hell out of here.” Clint grabbed Matt’s hand and placed it on his throbbing cock. “Lets get home so I can show you just how impressive that was”. Whatever determination Matt worked out with before the bodybuilding competition paled in comparison with the intensity he attacked his workouts afterwards. He was a demon. Clint could still out-lift him but he could not keep up. A two hour workout was common before but now Matt would lift for over four hours at a time. He’d push himself until he couldn’t move. Clint would find him passed out in a puddle of his own sweat. There were many days when Matt would workout for two four hour sessions in one day. To be clear; Clint was over the moon at Matt’s progress. He was attracted to the stud the day they meet but seeing him grow into a complete muscle stud drove Clint crazy. Matt used to look at Clint's massive body with pure lust. That look had been replaced with envy. Clint could see that Matt wanted to surpass him and he loved it. Clint walked into the gym to find Matt curling 70lb dumbbells. It was barely 6:00 am and he had clearly been lifting for awhile. “Up early?” “Couldn’t sleep. I needed to lift.” Matt said without breaking pace. “Matt, we need to talk. You’ve been pushing yourself so hard since that show. I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt.” Matt dropped the weights and turned to face Clint. He was wearing one of Clint’s t-shirts. It hung off his body like a tent. “I can’t stop Clint. I need to get bigger.” “I know you want to ge…” Clint started to say. “CLINT!” Matt yelled and pulled the shirt off. His pumped body glistened with sweat. “Look at me.” “I see you Matt. You look incredible. You’re arms are over 18”, those pecs are 52” and your waist hasn’t gotten bigger then 30”” Matt stepped closer and hit a most muscular pose. A pose he didn’t even know how to hit before meeting Clint; but one he had long since mastered. His thick traps rose from his melon-sized delts. Veins criss-crossed his pale skin. “Does this look like the biggest, sickest, most grotesque body you’ve ever seen?” He asked. “Matt” “NO IT’S NOT! And until it is I’m not going to stop.” Matt growled and grabbed the 90lb dumbbells and started to curl the heavy weights. “Fuck kid; I’ve never seen a beast like you.” Clint said as he approached. “I’m not going to try to stop you from reaching your goals but that doesn't mean we can’t have some fun while we are getting there.” Matt smiled as Clint stepped behind him. It had been a while since Clint saw that smile. If possible, Clint was even more turned on. Clint grabbed Matt’s swollen traps as he curled. “Lift that fucking puny weight. Grow those arms. Make them freaky” “Mmmmmmm” was all Matt could muster. “Yeah, you like that don't you kid? You like thinking about how massive you’ll be. We’re going to grow you into such a muscle God.” Matt was lost in his own muscle lust. His already pumped arms struggled to curl the 90lb weights. Clint leaned in close “Lift those fucking weights boy. Show this beast what real muscle can do.” Matt let out a scream and curled the weights for another rep. “Flex” he grunted. Clint stepped back and peeled his shirt off, exposing his mammoth 380lb body. He placed his hands on his hips and flexed his entire upper body. His pecs reached their 63” maximum. His thick stomach solidified into brick sized cobbles while his enormous lats caused his arms to rise. “So huge” Matt grunted. His eyes never left the behemoth's body as he started to curl the barbells again. At the top of the rep, Clint raised his arms into a gruesome double bicep pose. His arms rose to 27” of thick, striated beef. Matt dropped the weights and grabbed the 100s. Clint’s eyes looked worried; Matt had never been able to curl those and he was already spent. Sensing his concern Matt said “keep flexing. Your massive body makes me feel unstoppable”. Clint obeyed. He moved into a side chest pose that would rival any top professional bodybuilder. Matt licked his lips and started to hoist the huge weights. They barely moved but Matt wouldn’t stop. He let out a horrifying bellow and started to lift the weights. He stomped his foot and the weights moved higher. After almost 20 seconds Matt had reached the top of the rep and finally let the weights crash to the floor. Matt looked down at his pumped and bloated arms. His forearm veins looked like a road map. Sweat dripped from his elbows. He flexed his 18” biceps and admired their thickening mass. He massaged the huge muscles as he flexed. “That was awesome kid. You fucking huge right now” Clint said. “You think so?” Matt asked and raised an arm and flexed. “Hell yeah” clint agreed. Matt stepped closer to Clint and started to pose for the huge older man. Clint licked his lips and watched Matt’s body grow bigger with each flex. Clint pulled down his shorts and started to stroke his hard cock. Matt smiled as he realized the effect he was having on the 52 year old massive 380lb freak. He hit pose after pose; holding each one until his entire body trembled from effort. He flared his thick, dense lats, twisted his hips and flexed his razor sharp oblique muscles. He ran his hands over his soaked eight pack abs and 52” chest. Matt pulled down his pants and Clint let out a loud moan as his massive legs were exposed. By far his most impressive body part; they measured an impressive 28”. Matt ran his hands over their meaty surface then flexed each quad. Deep cuts and striations appeared on their surface. He turned and flexed his enormous glutes. Clint moaned again as Matt twisted a leg and flexed his hamstrings. Deep grooves and thick veins covered the surface. Finally Matt raised onto his toes and flexed his 18” calves. They solidified into hard, ripped muscle. Matt turned to face Clint. The massive man was stroking his cock faster and his eyes darted all over Matt’s pumped body. “Is this growing body going to make you cum?” Matt asked. “Hell yeah, you look fucking unreal kid.” “Good, I want you to cum for all this muscle” Matt said. “Stand up” he commanded. Clint stood and Matt stepped closer. He could see Clint was ready to explode. He bent down and wrapped his arms around Clint’s massive quads and started to lift. He hoisted the huge man off the ground with a little grunt and slid Clint’s cock into his mouth. Clint was too shocked to react and he released a massive load into Matt’s mouth. Matt guzzled the massive man’s cum. “Mmmmm, that was the better then a protein shake.” “Fuck kid, that was incredible. I can’t believe you picked me up that easily.” “You think was a good show?” Matt asked “You haven’t seen anything yet.” With a loud grunt Matt lifted Clint’s 380lbs higher and slung him over his shoulder. He caught his reflection in the gym mirror and almost came at the sight. With laboured steps, Matt carried Clint across the gym and towards the locker room. As they moved Matt could feel Clint’s dick getting hard again as it rested on his granite hard shoulder.
  22. arbotimus

    growth The Iron Bug - Part II

    Finally had some time off to devote to writing a story. Here is a new addition for anyone who still remembers Part I. Initially I had wanted to end the story here because of how slowly things are going, but I have a lot more ideas that I would like to get to…eventually. Anyways, comments and suggestions are appreciated as always. A link to Part I Part II -- Ecdysis Around here, people whisper of strange things in the forest. Bizarre things, forgotten things. My childhood buzzed with furtive tales of beasts and doors into other worlds, stories woven in hushed tones with a folly that belied their gravity. I think we are one of the few places left that truly believes in those sorts of things. And I did, wholeheartedly. On summer nights, stars were just the backdrop for greater phantasms, each more outlandish than the last. But time passed and I grew older, as people are wont to do. Without any wild stories of my own, my belief in things unseen faded. Mostly jackrabbits and coyotes flattered by shadows, as far as I could tell. But how could I fail to believe them now? I awoke from a dream I couldn’t remember to find my cock throbbing to an almost painful morning wood. It slapped in between the crevices in my thickening abdominal muscles as I freed it from its prison of sheets, a grin sneaking across my face as the aching subsided into pleasure. I lifted my hand to my chest, flexing it just a little. It felt good, powerful each time I felt the mound of my chest rising to meet my hand. I still had trouble believing how much I had changed and my dick stirred at knowing how much bigger I would become. My fingers ran over my newly sensitive nipples, and my cock jolted. Taking that as a cue, I ran my hand down my abs. The pitter patter of my fingers reverberated like a drum roll, building the anticipation until my hand finally reached my dick. Pleasure abounded as I tried to stroke up and down slowly. Without warning I came almost clumsily into my sheets, my orgasm distracting me from shooting my load in an appropriate direction. Despite last night, it felt as though I hadn’t cum in weeks and my body shook long after I had spurted the last drop. I laid there for a few minutes, resting in my own cum soaked sheets as the sunrise lofted morning rays through the window. I could hear the birds starting their morning incantations, fading in and out with their summer songs. My hands continued to wander all across my body, muscles tense beneath my skin. The clock, that grim disciplinarian, interrupted my self-congratulatory rubbing, and I dragged my tight body to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but flex a little when I caught my reflection in the mirror, and my dick started stirring again. Even if I didn’t quite have the size, the shape was phenomenal. What they don’t tell you in the iron bug manual is how long it takes to adjust to your reflection mirroring your own wet dream. As I reached for the sink, I noticed that my waist met the counter just a little higher than it used to. The difference was small, but I could feel that everything was just a little further beneath me. I resisted the urge to cum again. The bite had its limits and my dick still wasn’t fully recovered from the volume of requests it had been receiving lately. My limit was about three times a day, but with the intensity of each orgasm there was nothing to complain about. I dug through my closet to find the largest shirt I had and slipped it over my broadening shoulders. It was my dad’s old shirt, about two sizes larger than my others and made of thick fabric. It barely hid the changes, but it was all I had. I went back to the mirror and lifted my arms, my peaks raising the loose sleeves. Eventually I would get tired of this. Surely. I donned a pair of baggy pants, threw a pair of workout clothes into my backpack, and headed out for my last day of work. I wasn’t running in the mornings anymore, so I had the time to take the long way. I wasn’t afraid of the bug, either. I felt unstoppable. By the time I had made it into work the sun had just started to peel back the last layer of morning fog. The shop was quiet before the customers came in. The sound of my coworker sweeping up yesterday’s dust mingled with the sounds of birds coming from outside, interrupted by the occasional vehicle carrying someone on their way to work. Light started to filter through the windows, illuminating hairdryers and the metal of chairs. It felt good on my skin, both the warmth and the sight of my taut forearms peering out through my sleeves. I was conscious of every movement I made, how little resistance I felt and how I must look to other people. I was starting to get accustomed to the restlessness, too. I could ignore it if I concentrated on other things, and it would wait in the back of my mind until I got to the gym. Everyone that came in that day said their goodbyes. Hugs were exchanged, kind words given. Towards closing hour there was a cake and a small party. I noticed their stares and subsequent averted gazes, and I almost welcomed them. I began to enjoy the feeling of them looking at me and being unable to comprehend what was going on. I started to imagine they felt intimidated, inferior. Maybe this was how Charlie felt. I stopped those thoughts abruptly. Being proud of my new body was one thing, but getting off on other people admiring me seemed too much. Meanwhile night came, as it does, and everyone began to head home. My boss finally locked the door and said goodbye for the last time, the streetlights flickering on in the twilight. Delilah and I wandered back to her place between the telephone poles and sun-stained clouds. The air was cool and crisp, and we filled it with words of future adventures and past travels. The itch to lift was almost absent. When we finally came to the old, rustic house Delilah was renting, we paused at her opened door. She said, “Kenny, can I show you something? It’s a secret.” A smile slid surreptitiously across her face. I agreed, confused. She was giddy, almost, in contrast to the calm and serene lady that I usually knew. Without hesitation she led me down the porch and around the house to the basement. The entrance was one of those old wooden basement double doors that leads ominously down into a dark, cavernous pit. The steps creaked forlornly while we worked our way down through the blackness, and when Delilah tugged at the hanging lamp string the bulb flickered to life as though we had entered a scene in an old horror movie. There was a sound like a small chainsaw whirring through the otherwise silent room that clinched the horror movie atmosphere. My eyes adjusted to a typical basement, cement-lined and framed with wood. It was littered with books that looked like field guides and various devices that seemed like animal traps, some fairly standard and others more obscure. On the center table against the back wall something shiny was darting around furiously in some sort of plastic or Plexiglas container. My heart sank as I realized what it was. Delilah was absolutely delighted and urged me closer despite my hesitation. And once I got closer it was confirmed. There it was, staring back at me with what I could not help but interpret as malice. Really, it probably did not even recognize me. Especially since there were two, buzzing about in there, seemingly preoccupied with one another when they were not frantically trying to escape, banging their metallic parts against the glass. I peered at Delilah’s face, which was lost in a sense of wonder. “What is it?” I asked dumbly, hoping she wouldn’t discern my insincere tone. “That’s a great question – I really have no idea! That’s what I plan to find out.” She said, excitement beaming from her face. “Where did you find them?” I said, continuing my litany of inane questions as the questions I actually wanted to ask buzzed about in my head. “That’s kind of why I’m here. This place Kenny, it’s full of things that you don’t find other places. The rules are a little…bendy here. Like a compass near a magnetic rock…only that’s not quite right because we have a really good understanding of how all that works. That’s why they sent me and other people from the university here, to figure out what the heck is going on or to make sense of these ‘paranormal’, uh, phenomena. This is probably just one of the apparently inexplicable things wandering round these parts…” She trailed off, staring into the glass at the iron bugs. “But to answer your question, I found them...uh, going at it while I was out looking for my proverbial magnetic rock. That’s the only reason I was able to catch them, probably, the poor things.” I didn’t know what to say. My curiosity was drowned out by apprehension and fear. “We should go, they get agitated when we’re around.” She said, turning away. “What are you going to do with them?” “Hopefully let them make babies first. Or eggs, I guess. Then send them back to the university, study their behavior, biology. Let the entomologists have a crack at them. I don’t really have the tools to do it here. But to be honest, they’re not really the end goal. They’ll probably get some ridiculous volume of papers written about them that won’t be published until we know more about what’s going on here. That’s presuming they even survive the journey, which is not very likely considering I have no idea what they even eat.” I noticed an array of potential food items littered about the cage, which ranged from rusty metal bolts to small crickets. I didn’t dare suggest that they would drink blood. I wasn’t sure what to do. Countless scenarios ran through my head, the most dramatic involving armies of government-issued supermen pillaging entire cities with their iron fists. In reality the bugs would probably not even live long enough to bite anybody, but that didn’t stop my imagination from generating countless apocalyptic scenarios. I froze in my panic and elected not to say anything as Delilah led me out of the basement, clearly lost in her reverie. When we got to the door, it was still unlocked. Delilah didn’t seem to mind much. We sat down on her couch and sank into the old and collapsing cushions. The entire house was this way, filled with furniture that didn’t match from tenants who hadn’t wanted them over the years. Each piece of her dilapidated home was a reminder that her stay here was temporary. Delilah and I talked the night away as we sank ever further into the cushions, and as time went on my paranoia was outweighed by my faith that she would handle everything. By the time the candles we had lit were running low, my fears of Robocop police states were long gone. Around midnight I headed home, and everything was asleep. Even the crickets had stopped their perpetual stirring, and the moon had long since left the stars reign over the night sky. We take the witching hour pretty seriously around these parts, and you’re unlikely to find anyone wandering about during the somnolent hours. Which is why I was caught off guard when I ran into Charlie, running with a hoodie on. I don’t think he even noticed it was me, because he just grunted and continued on his way. I looked back at him and watched him for a while as he ran. He faded in and out of sight as he passed under each street lamp and then back into the darkness of the night. The motion of his body, the effortless way he moved across the pavement was magnetic. Despite his unbearable arrogant attitude, he was still… My face burned with that special sort of cherry red that plagues the faces of those of us with auburn strands. Maybe the thing that bothered me the most was how easily he had pushed me aside. Even with all the progress I had made I was still little compared to him. The itch came back, fervently. My entire body ached with the urge to lift, to be bigger, stronger. But our gym was closed. I scrambled to pull out my phone and look up the nearest 24 hour gym. 45 minutes away. I ran all the way home to my car, my lungs burning from the cold midnight air. The bland headlights pierced the darkness, obscuring my night vision for the sake of this singular focus. I hardly even noticed the time pass by as my foot pushed down impatiently on the gas pedal. I paid whatever nominal fee they asked of me and impatiently worked my way towards the weight room. The walls were taken up by windows that blurrily reflected the incandescent lights. Unlike the gym at home, all of the machines here were new, clean, functional. There were only two other people there. Even though it meant I could lift as much as I pleased, I almost wanted more people there to watch me. I hardly even felt the pain. I kept adding more weight between every set, pushing myself harder and harder. I was killing it. A fucking monster. I was losing myself to the itch. I started to come back to reality at the last set of cable flyes. My arms had stopped moving and my chest was on fire with that euphoric sort of pain, joining every other muscle group I had already worked. The weights made a huge crash as the fell back towards the ground, and I took a full breath, expanding my chest out to its new full posture. I was drenched in sweat and pumped like I had never been. I noticed my reflection in the window, but I shied from making a show for the two other gym goers. My dad’s old shirt had no chance to hide my frame, my proud posture filling up the neck and sleeves. I couldn’t help but lift my arm just once, and the messy reflection told me I had made a lot of progress even though I hadn’t started the growing phase yet. In the shower I took off my shirt slowly, feeling it tug at various body parts. My lats, shoulders, and arms all resisted the fabric as it slowly slid up off my frame. When I looked down I saw my chest heaving up and down with each breath, filling most of my visual field. Trying to avoid cumming in a public locker room and apparently unable to see below my pecs, I decided to feel the changes instead. I stripped off my shorts (noticing how firm my ass was in the process) and started to lather up in the shower. Every part of me was swollen, hard. I could feel the definition that was now accentuated by my size, and I explored every new crevice and valley that my body made. I found that I liked just to hold a double bi pose even though no one was watching, my dick standing at full attention as I was enraptured by the power in my own arms. The hunger interrupted like an old forgotten friend who, once arrived, engrosses you with their presence. I dragged my body out of the shower and put on the gym clothes I had forgotten to change into, proceeding to guide myself via cell phone to the nearest fast food joint once I found my way back to my car. Ignoring the grouchy attitude of the cashier, I unapologetically ordered enough food at the drive through for a bowling team (like every small town, bowling s one of our few pastimes). Nirvana in every bite. I could feel my body filling up the space in my seat as I grew, my belly full but emptying with each passing minute. As the soreness faded, I began another self-worship session. My dick started to engorge as I flexed each muscle, and just the feel of the fabric on my skin anticipated another orgasm. But I stopped just short of another poorly planned ejaculation. I got out my phone and haphazardly snapped a shot of myself in the seat, arm flexed and shoulders visible through the muscle tee. Had to be at least sixteen inches, probably more. My forearms were starting to take on that classic full shape that speaks of strength, and the peaks on my biceps rose higher with each flexion. It wasn’t two minutes before I found a guy, and I was off. The stars were my only company on the way to his place, which was out in the middle of nowhere between my home town and the city I just left. It took all of my mental effort not to cum in the seat before arriving, my body still growing and constricting my muscles and my dick in an involuntary autoerotic episode. I finally parked my car and stepped out to what was essentially a cabin in the woods, realizing that I had forgotten a jacket. The cool air gave me goosebumps, the dark outlines of trees the only audience to my frigid condition. My muscles started to shiver, reminding me of how much they had grown and were still growing. When he opened the door he smiled and I reciprocated with one of those cocky smirks that I had seen all the jocks do. I stepped in without waiting for him to invite me, warmth flooding my body as he stepped backwards to make room for me. I noticed that I was looking down at him, his erection visible through his pajamas. He started to speak, but I was impatient. I grabbed behind his head with one hand and at his crotch with the other, bending over and kissing him gently in the process. He started, but after he relaxed he moved his hands towards my arms. I lifted up one, just like in the picture, and brought it into position. It was still pulsing, growing. I wondered if he could feel it. “Just came from the gym”, I said, attempting to explain. I don’t think he cared. He was lost in the sensation of it. I moved my rough, firm hands down towards his waist, getting a feel for his weight. Confidence rising with my recent growth, I lifted him up from his ass. It was easier than I thought, and I brought our faces even while our mouths never parted. “Bed”, I grunted between kisses, and he guided me like a ship through the dimly lit passages of his house. Carpet rubbed up against my feet and I bumped into the wooden paneling on the walls a few times from our uncoordinated expedition. His bedroom was dark, the only light coming from out in the hallway. I threw him down on the bed and pulled out the condom I brought, also reaching for the lube on his nightstand. Laying on top of him, I held him around the neck with the entirety of my solid arm, gently enough to keep his airway free but firm enough for him to know he was in my control. My abs pressed on his back, and I held just enough of my weight so that he would be pinned down without being uncomfortable. I kept having to loosen my grip as my stomach emptied and my body and arms grew. Even though we had barely started it felt like I had been waiting for ages, and I slipped inside him without much effort. Clearly he had been practicing. Our feet locked and I began to thrust slowly, my cock already having been primed for orgasm for the last half hour. It didn’t last for very long. I kissed his neck as I came into him, my body convulsing with the pleasure of release. For a minute I rested on top of him, our breaths the only sound in the dark. When I finally pulled out, I flipped him over to find he was still hard and hadn’t cum. That wouldn’t do. I grabbed his cock and it jolted, precum leaking from his slit. I grabbed his other hand and put it over my abs, guiding it up towards my powerful chest as I flexed each in turn. I let go, and he took freedom moving his hands over my body as I displayed my power for him. He was reverent, his touch gentle against my hard flesh. He worked his way up to my thick traps, passing over my now rounded shoulders to my solid biceps. He spent a long time there, admiring every crevice and trying to fit his hands around my peaks only to find his hands inadequate for the job. Finally he made his way back down to my chest, playing with my erect nipples. Everywhere his hands touched me I made a display, hardening each muscle individually. I found it erotic, the newfound control I had over each part of my body, feeling his cock throb each time he found a new part of me that was just as thick and powerful as the last. I was hard again. By the time he moved his hands over my widening lats, fingers pausing at the V taper, it was over. His cum leaked all over my hand as I continued to run it up and down with a smooth motion. I licked some of his semen off of my fingers. As I swallowed it, my dick started once more. The thought of him getting off just by touching me was too much. Upon first touch I came again, cum splattering all the way up to his chin. He licked it off, reciprocating the gesture. Coyotes were moving about outside in the starlight. The trees were silent in the windless night. I held him as we slept together, my chest firm against his back and my dick still hard between his legs. Part III
  23. arbotimus

    growth The Iron Bug - Part I

    Hello, all. This is my first story. It started out as kind of a silly idea, but it kept growing (no pun intended). If I manage to write more parts, they will probably be shorter than this. Thoughts and comments are always appreciated. And with that, enjoy! Part I -- It Bit Hard I yawned, running my hands through my short, stark ginger hair. The cool mountain air filled my lungs, tinged with the scent of pine and thin from the altitude. The clouds between the trees were pasted flat against the sky, wandering across like a moving painting. I touched my toes, stretched my legs. My path was obscured by morning fog that was quickly lifting, but I knew the way. The quiet energy of the morning spurred me forward, and I began my run. The trees kept me company until the paved path wound back into our tiny Oregonian town. Rising higher, the sun strained to find its way through the morning cloud cover as people began their day, shuffling out of their houses to collect newspapers or drive to work. Beads of sweat started to form on my skin. The cool air was a welcome relief, my lungs straining after the first few miles. By the time I had reached Charlie’s house at the end of the neighborhood, I saw him standing in his doorway. It doesn’t really take much imagination to get the idea of Charlie. A typical muscular jock, tall, handsome, clean features. Short brown hair topped deep green eyes and a slightly overconfident smile. Like Adam Levine had gotten drunk one night and knocked up Marco Dapper in our local pub. His tan skin exaggerated the features of his body, his thick arms and broad shoulders jutting out through the white wife-beater that fit nicely against the rest of torso. Clearly, the unoriginal nature of his attractiveness didn’t keep me from noticing him every time we met, which was pretty often in a town as small as this one. And he knew it too, ever since high school. He lifted his hand behind his head, his arm flexing slightly. “’Sup, little man?” he said, flashing a borderline arrogant smile. I waved, averting my gaze. It was always like this. From the expression on his face, I could tell that he enjoyed how uncomfortable he made me. My discomfort had waned since my confusing teenage years, but he still relished in my awkward furtive glances. A mixture of slight distain and familiar arousal ultimately ended as a small jolt of excitement down below before I continued on. I was drenched in sweat by the time I finally made it back home. Feeling good about my run, I stripped off my clothes and took a minute to evaluate myself in the mirror. I was handsome, if nothing else. My eyes were that startling sort of blue that you would expect with my ginger complexion. I liked to think they were kind, unassuming. Piercing, is what the last guy I was with had said. Otherwise, I had a strong jawline accompanied by smooth, relatively tan skin peppered with light freckles. After I turned on the shower, I made the same pose Charlie made to me earlier and giggled at my reflection. I was lithe, definitely, some definition here and there but nothing to write home about. Overall, I was more or less happy with my body as it was. Finding a guy on my occasional trips to the city had never been too much effort, and I had had my share of adventures enough to maintain my self-confidence. Post-shower, I threw on a T-shirt and shorts and headed to work. I was a hairdresser at the only salon we had. Yes, I was a gay hairdresser. Prior to that no one had ventured to guess that I liked men, but now I had put up with more than a few raised eyebrows. My excuse, on the rare occasion that I needed it, was that jobs were scarce around these parts, and my mom had taught me how to cut hair. Neither of these were false, and most people let it go easy enough. The job was temporary, anyhow. I was headed back to university after several years off. Aspiring mechanical engineer, had life not gotten in the way. My run had taken less time than I thought, and I set out on the long way through the woods. The best part about our rural town is that there is a trail to almost anywhere you want to go. It’s practically a postcard there. Little coffee shops and gas stations rise up almost naturally out of the woods along the one major road. Behind the lay what is practically wilderness: verdant, alpine, springs gushing forth from mysterious locations. I was keen on escaping into it as much as possible. The sun was starting to pierce the clouds and peer through the canopy. It was summer, after all, even in Oregon. Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar pain in my leg. It reminded me of a bug bite, but the feeling was immediate and intense, as though I had been stabbed by a needle. I looked down, but I couldn’t find any mark or bruise except for a small puncture that was already clotting up. The pain subsided as soon as it had started. I began to search for the culprit, but I was interrupted by a jarring shrieking sound, as if someone were rubbing two pieces of rusty metal together. My head turned directly to the source. And there it was, sitting innocently between the pine needles. Although, what it was took a second to comprehend. An insect, most likely, its body resembled something akin to a mosquito crossed with a beetle (I am a mechanical engineer, not an entomologist). It shone with a dark metallic sheen, as if it were actually made of metal. Sinister, black compound eyes stared back at me above a menacing set of mouthparts, all sharp. It was currently rubbing its needle-like proboscis as it sang its metallurgic cacophony by rubbing its spindly hind legs together. The moment I moved closer to take a look, it flew away with a buzz akin to a tiny chainsaw, its tiny wings beating furiously to support its strange body. I stood there for a second, perplexed. I wouldn’t be taking this path again tomorrow. Despite this odd interlude, I still managed to make it on time. Work was dreary. I was restless the entire day, doing ten different things at once. The customers could tell, too. Shop talk was at a minimum, replaced with uncomfortable looks and quick and simple cuts. I just wanted to get the job done and go for a run, and I was grateful by the time my shift had ended. Contemplating my uneasiness on the way home, I stopped in front of the gym. Something told me that I should go inside. I entered warily. This was not a regular activity for me. Normally by then I would have already been running, but my newfound jitters seemed to require a different kind of relief. The inside was spacious, if not a little run down. Carpet floors, old wooden paneling, decorations from the previous century that had faded away. All the facilities in our town were a little bit tainted with Americana like this. Without a friend to mooch off of, I was forced to sign up for a gym membership. My body urged me forward impatiently, and so I ignored the moderate fee and the overbearingly cheerful attitude of the guy handling the paperwork. Finally, I was granted access. Being almost entirely unfamiliar with what I was doing, I lifted a 15 pound dumbbell off the rack. The next time I looked up at the clock, three hours had passed. Three hours. My body was, as far as I was concerned, dead. Once I had started, I wasn’t able stop until my body wouldn’t move anymore. The entire experience was kind of hazy in my memory. I took a minute just to lay on the floor and breathe, hoping that death was not actually imminent. My sanity returned to me slowly, but I was confused nonetheless. I had only been in a gym three or four times in my life, and none were exactly stellar performances. Three hours of intense weightlifting seemed excessive, if not impossible. Finally, after an immeasurable amount of time (which my watch later informed me was only five minutes), I was able to lift my body and head outside. The person who had signed me up enthusiastically saluted me on the way out. His disposition was frustrating when I considered the condition I was in. I grunted something at him and left without looking in his direction. My entire body was wracked with pain, and I was ravenously hungry. My sole concern was moving my heavy body forward, one step at a time, back to my apartment. By the time I made it, I couldn’t decide whether to collapse from exhaustion or feed my starving stomach. Passing the refrigerator and pantry, I opted for the latter. It was heaven, every item that touched my lips and passed down my throat. I ate until I couldn’t anymore, preferentially grabbing any protein-heavy item I could find. After I felt I could barely move, I somehow forged a path to my bed and collapsed. Immediately I found myself in a sleep without dreams. The next morning I awoke anticipating the pain, but I found none. I felt limber, refreshed. My body was not sore at all. Maybe I hadn’t worked out as hard as I had thought? I didn’t ponder it for very long, however, as my morning wood stole my attention. My whole body felt aroused, and as my hand touched my dick I thought I was going to cum right there all over my sheets. Somehow I resisted, threw off my covers, and pulled out the lube that I kept in my nightstand drawer for such emergencies. It throbbed as I applied each spurt. I moved slowly, cautiously up and down my dick, careful not to squeeze too hard or move to fast to fend off the impending ejaculation. Every time I flexed a muscle, the feelings intensified. I made a point to flex every part of my body that I could think of, while still masturbating with the same care and attention to avoid a premature orgasm. Each stroke felt like minutes of pleasure, my whole body wracked with orgasmic sensations. My clock, however, disagreed. I came after only a minute, feeling somewhat disappointed between spasms that it hadn’t lasted longer. I used my towel (also conveniently located in my night stand) to wipe the voluminous jizz off my stomach, feeling how hard it was from yesterday. I got up and headed to the bathroom. I was still sweaty from last night. Deciding that I wasn’t going to run today, I slipped off my shirt after I started the shower. I paused. Despite the fact that I had just came, my dick hardened a little bit at my own image in the mirror. I wasn’t that much bigger than before, but the difference was notable. Grinning, I made a muscle. Not formidable, not large, but that was definitely a bicep. My pecs rose a little bit more off my chest, my abs were just a little more defined. I turned my body to find a back that was just a tad more cut, a butt just a little more firm. Oddly, my legs had not changed all that much, but I could feel that they were much stronger. I felt lighter, more powerful. Resisting the urge to touch my dick at my own visage, I hopped in the shower and headed to work, this time making sure to take the normal route. On the way over, I remembered the bug bite from yesterday and decided there wasn’t really any other explanation. Not very many exciting events tended to happen around there, so the odd ones stand out. Still, that was not much of an explanation. The parallels to Peter Parker immediately flashed into my head. Was I just going to get bigger? Or would I have all the powers of a mosquito-beetle…thing? I wasn’t really excited to become Terminator Gregor Samsa. But then I felt my body tight against my shirt, my shoulders extending out to a proud posture, my legs strong, my abs tight. It was hard to worry, or to think about how or why this was happening. It was even harder not to get an erection. All day I received compliments about how I looked. I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it. “Did you get taller?” one of them said, and I just flashed them a smile and continued working. They would probably figure it out soon enough, if it continued like this. Luckily, I was not going to be here for very much longer. The sun continued to pass overhead. The day was long, but not nearly unbearable. I felt good, light. But the urge to go to the gym was there too, pushing me forward. I was almost giddy with anticipation as we flipped the sign to “Closed”. I rushed straight to the gym. On the way I passed Delilah, that lovely lady. She had a way of smiling that made you feel like you were at home. As far as I knew, she was the only black person in our entire town. On loan, so to speak, from a big university on the East Coast I couldn’t quite remember, Delilah was helping out at our local museum during the summer. The museum was our town’s only tourist attraction, specializing in American Folklore and Mythology of the area and of Oregon in general. Her title was technically “Folklorist”, but as she told it she was basically an anthropologist with a background in mythology. And I, having done a hairdressing stint in my college town days, was the only one who knew how to do her hair. Needless to say, we bonded. “Hi Delilah,” I said, waving curtly. “Evening, Kenny,” she said, smiling warmly. She didn’t have to say much else. Most of our interactions were unspoken. Delilah was the only person in our town that I had come out to, but she seemed to have known before I told her. We would talk about boys and our adventures in the city in private, but in public we had a kind of secret code. We walked on past each other, both apparently in a hurry to get somewhere. I finally reached the gym, feeling good from a day of compliments but tense from the anticipation. I entered and instantly I felt an unconscious reaction to the metal. It needed to be in the air, and I was just the guy to do it. I know I started with bicep curls, but after that things got a little hazy despite all my mental preparation. I remember that between the pain was an odd sort of euphoria, a mixture of physical pleasure and a sense of pride and accomplishment at what I had just achieved. Whenever I lifted something that I thought my body would never be able to, the feeling of power and strength was intense, almost erotic. It pushed me to try heavier weights, more reps. I was improving as I was lifting. After two and a half hours of pushing myself, I knew that I was done. Despite the shorter time, I had worked much harder than yesterday. When I finally fell to the floor, I stayed there for a good ten minutes before I could walk out of the gym. Almost as soon as I left the building (at this point completely ignoring the peppy gatekeeper), the hunger started again. In all of my rushing around, I had completely forgotten to restock my empty apartment. I detoured to our only fast food restaurant (luckily open at the late hour of 8 p.m.), and ordered enough chicken for five people. “I am having a get-together,” I told the cashier, looking down as I said it. She didn’t really seem to care. She called my order, and I paid my hefty sum for my five person meal. I barely managed to get outside before I wolfed it all down. It was probably the best fried chicken between two slices of bread I had ever tasted. Nothing was safe from my bottomless stomach. I ate thoughtlessly, unquenchably until it was gone. Small pangs of hunger still plagued me, but I threw away the paper remains of my meal and headed home. As I looked up, the stars were pale against the summer sky. The best thing about living in a small town is the calm darkness of the night. Looking up, the entire universe opens up to you, and anything seems possible. The dark shapes of trees surrounding familiar buildings and places give the perfect balance of comfort and wilderness. You get a sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself. But all these thoughts were interrupted by the sensations that were happening in my own body. I could feel myself growing very slowly. I first noticed in my legs, my shorts tightening around my thighs. Every step was lighter than the last, and as I ran my hands down my quads I could feel them pulsing and enlarging. My upper body grew simultaneously, and I wished I had worn a tighter shirt so I could feel it expanding in the same way. My hands instinctively reached for my biceps, harder and larger every second. I could feel my chest lifting up my shirt, and my abs growing tighter and thicker at the same time. My stomach emptied as my muscles continued to throb and expand. My dick also responded with a pump of its own. I knew that I couldn’t touch it without orgasming, I was already almost there. As my shorts continued to grow tighter from my ass expanding, it became more and more difficult to ignore the fabric pulling tighter against my already throbbing cock. Luckily, by the time I had finished most of my growth I was already home, having avoided cumming in my shorts. By now, most of my fatigue had lifted. I headed up the stairs to my apartment, noticing how easy it was to push myself up despite my new size. Once inside, I checked the refrigerator and pantry and ate whatever I had left, which turned out to be Jello and stale tortilla chips. They tasted wonderful, and I wolfed them down eagerly. My body was still pulsing and growing, but very slowly. I kept touching myself all over, constantly surprised by the new shapes and how hard my body was. I headed to the bathroom, anticipating the changes in the mirror. I was not disappointed. Full, rounded biceps met with thick forearms as I made a double bicep pose, my abs and pecs taut as they stretched out from the position. Even if my arms were only about 15 inches around, they were full and solid, powerful looking. After I let my arms fall, I took a second just to admire my new body. I found that I could now make my pecs bounce, and I relished in it. First both, then the left one, then the right one, then to some imaginary rhythm. I tightened my abs and saw the new crevices between them, and as my hands ran across them I could feel each one distinctly. Unlike yesterday, my legs had also swollen in size, and I flexed my calves to find a heavy ridge. I also got a glance at my back, my rounded shoulders meeting nicely muscled traps above a widened set of lats. If I continued like this, soon I would be bigger than Charlie. I barely even touched my dick before it exploded all over the mirror, the silky feel of my hands rubbing against my hard body. I continued to flex and admire my new form through the cum-drenched mirror, wondering how big I would become. Part II
  24. FREaky

    Abduction Part One by F_R_Eaky

    This is starting off a bit slower that I usually go. The tags will happen over the course of upcoming chapters. This is the long set up. I hope you enjoy this one as always. - Frank. Abduction Part One by F_R_Eaky Julian was expecting to have a decent day today. He didn't have any grand expectations for it, but he figured he would at least moderately enjoy himself at the Pride Festival activities on this balmy Saturday afternoon. Coming in from the middle entrance he knew he'd turn to the right to walk down the main promenade, looking at only the booths on the right hand side. He'd then see who was on stage at this end of the promenade before turning round and heading up the entire length of promenade to see what booths were on what originally was his left hand side and then at the end who was on at the stage on the left side promenade end. After that he'd go back up that half of the promenade to the center and scope out all the food booths. Tomorrow he'd let his friends know which ones had the best food for the best price to have lunch at after the big Pride Parade. For the now, he'd scope out everything on the promenade and afterwards he'd walk off to the side to head to the Missouri-Illinois LGBTQ History display pavilion. It was early in the Pride Festival day, so the promenade wasn't crowded yet. There was plenty of walking room. At the end of the right hand side of the promenade the stage was bare, nothing happening as of yet. No performers. No awards. No competitions. No administrative announcements. Julian looked down at his feet to rest his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. He always forgot to bring his sunglasses.. Seeing that his right shoelace was untied, he stepped off to the side of the stage so as not to go butt up in the crowd and bent down to tie his shoe. What happened next would change Julian's life forever. A strange and wondrous series of events would begin right here and now, although, if Julian foresaw what would happen he'd probably have done his best to stop it. Coming up from tying his shoe, Julian felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. It wasn't enough to make him unconscious, but certainly enough to knock his senses off line for a few minutes. If that wasn't bad enough, a fairly large and meaty hand grabbed his left arm and helped pull his torso up, the hand's partner rushed in and gut punched Julian severely. He would have doubled over but his head met a great wall of pectoral muscles. As he stood there in a semi conscious state, breathing into the shirt covered valley of a set of protruding pecs, his body supported in a standing position by his attacker's hands and arms, those arms pulled him in close, tilted his head back, and began to suck face, long, passionately, and deeply, as if Julian had just walked on and became an extra of a Sean Cody production. His mind tried to tell Julian he should do something, but the blow to his head made his vision and his mind spin and his nose tingle. The punch to the gut made it almost impossible to breathe, which in turn affected his reasoning capabilities, and his attacker lip locking with him only took the impossibility from almost to absolute. The rest of the world, if anyone saw him, saw Julian becoming weak in the arms of his lover. And what a lover this attacker could be. Midway through the deep passionate pucker, the man wrapped one arm under Julian's ass and easily hoisted the 5' 9", 155 pound, platinum haired, ice blue eyed, twenty year old off the ground. In a few short minutes Julian was carried away to an awaiting van parked at one of the metered parking spaces outlining the park. Depositing Julian into the passenger seat, his abductor quickly placed a blindfold over Julian's eyes and then tied his wrists to the arms of the seat and buckled him in. That was the only thing about the car ride that Julian would ever recall. Julian did realize when they stopped that it was several hours later. The white blindfold over his eyes allowed colors of various pastel light through and a cooler breeze caressed his skin which meant it was now around dusk. His nostrils were also filled with the scent of a fresher breeze, tinged with hay and occasionally the smell of animal manure - he was at a farm. This was confirmed when a large door was heard to be rolled open and he was escorted inside. Walking all the way to the other end of the barn, Julian was placed into a chair and given a grunt command with a firm hand on a shoulder as an order to sit down. After being placed in the chair his hands and legs were then bound to them using some sort of fairly strong rope. ["I apologize for the rough handling. I am a bit taller and stronger than most men."] "That doesn't mean you have to handle people this way. What the hell gives? Bashin' the back of my head and then punching me in the stomach, and then...then... KISSING ME!" ["That part was needed in order to make it seem like you were willing to go with me."] Great. Thought Julian to himself. He's using one of those voice altering devices to speak to me. "What gives with the voice. Why do you need to sound so computer like?" ["It is necessary for fear of vocal recognition."] "Vocal recog....what the fuck, bro.? You mean you're someone I know? What the hell is this a surprise party of some kind gone wrong?" ["The first statement is correct, the second one is not."] "I know you?! This is fucking ridiculous. What a way to treat a friend, coworker, or acquaintance. What the hell do you want anyway? I don't have a lot of money. Neither does my family." ["It isn't money that I want."] "Ok, fine then. I'm not gonna just sit here. HELP! HEEEEEEEEEEEELP!" ["Screaming will only wear you out and make you more exhausted. You are in a barn in the middle of its hay stores, the bales of which will absorb your screams. No one outside the barn can hear you, and if they could, there's no one here as they are gone on vacation to Florida for the next two to three weeks."] "So... what... what do you want with me?" ["I need your help. I need you to make love to me."] "Say wha da fu? What makes you think, after this approach for picking up dates, that I'm going to want to make love to you? Why do you need me to make love to you?" ["I need you to make love to me to.... to see....."] "To see what, if you can get it up? Do you have an injury or something that won't allow you to get erect?" ["I need to see if I...I am gay. ... ... ..."] " see... if you're gay? How can you not know? You either are or aren't. I mean seriously, dude. It's something you're born as not something you..." ["I have never been with anyone...ever. Now...away at... ... ... well, away and out in the public, people are wondering what my orientation is. I've been raised, so to speak, to be heterosexual, but I can't quite seem to bring myself to be with a woman. I get erections at the sight of some men, but that could be a passing phase. I need to know if I will stay erect and climax at the touch of another man or if I don't."] "So what? I'm your test subject? a... a...guinea pig of sorts? I'm not just going to make love to you to prove, what? Do you need emotional support to realize it's okay to be gay? I could give you pamphlets, books, websites on information and therapy for that. Just let me..." ["I THINK HOMOSEXUALITY IS FINE! I don't think it's an abomination or a sin. It's's just in my line of are...obstacles...people...that rise up and make the path difficult. I want to know how to plan out and map my life. Should I stay this course or change it depending upon whether or not I'm gay. I just.... I....just want make...sure."] "Why did you choose me to verify this?" ["Because... I.... knew you were you."] "So this was a way to get a date?" ["No. ... ... ... It's just a way for me... maybe I'm the only one who needs it done this way... but I need to confirm my sexuality. You... you were gay and kind and smart... .... ... and I knew I had a build you like. ..."] "Build I like? What kind..." ["Please... if you promise to do this for me, no questions asked, I will release you. All I ask is that when I free your hands you don't try to remove your blindfold and you don't attempt to make an exit, of which there is only one, by the way. If I see you attempt one of those two things, I'll knock you out and dump you somewhere. I just want you to make out with me so I can see if mentally, physically it's what I respond to. I've never been with anyone, ever. I've had my blood tested for any diseases, just in case, and can show you that paper if you're worried. You can do it however you like best. Just let me know how to bend or lift or whatever. I basically will be a semi-slave to you tonight."] "Alright! Alright... geeze....I'll do it. Although you better have one amazing fuck bod to touch." The abductor bent over and undid the rope on both of Julian's wrists and his ankles, but stood directly in front of the chair. Julian stood up slowly, keeping the blindfold on for even without physically seeing, he could tell them man was a fairly big man. Slowly, gingerly he stuck his hands out and soon came into contact with a fairly thick and full chest. "Geeze...." Julian whispered as he continued to move his hands up the body of his abductor. Groping, caressing, feeling Julian began to get a sense of how big this man was. His own head only came up to about the man's nose or mouth. He has a very thick and powerful neck that was rooted into some pretty damn broad and solid shoulders, which of course sat above some fairly barrel like pecs. Julian's hands then went down and over the flattened peaks of his abductor's relaxed biceps. "You are built like a brick shit house, and a fairly tall and wide one too." ["I'm 6' 4" tall and weight two-hundred thirty five pounds."] "Oh my...." Julian's knees buckled at the thought of the size of this man as well as from being exhausted and hungry not having had lunch or dinner so far this day. ["No worries, I have you."] "Sorry... ... ... I'm a little weak from skipping lunch and dinner...." ["If you want we can stop this and I can get you something to eat first."] "No, no. It's okay. I can do this." Placing his hands on the abductor's chest again, Julian glided them up the neck and reached out for the chin, causing the abductor to flinch his head back and inhale sharply. "Don't worry. I'm not going to try anything stupid. You are built way bigger than me and could knock my head off I believe, or put me into a more permanent state of unconsciousness. And as tall as you are, and assuming you've worked your legs out too and aren't chicken legged, if I attempted to run away, you'd chase me down in minutes." Julian's abductor relaxed and Julian went back to seeing the man's face via his finger tips. The man's chin was strong but not too prominent. The jaw line was pretty square and the cheek bones were set fairly high. Although there was a two day or so worth of stubble on the face, Julian could tell the cheek bones were hidden slightly be a pair of fairly chubby cheeks. "My gawd..." thought Julian. "He has got to have a wonderful set of dimples to look at." Next were the full, pillow-like lips that was below the man's slightly bulbous and wide nose. A thick but well groomed set of eyebrows floated above a pair of eyes that felt as though they might have a slightly outside downward turn to them almost as if he were oriental of some sort. Then the hands reached the top of this behemoth of a man and became entangled in thick mop of hair that hung down to the man's shoulders. ["What do you want me to do?"] "Well, first..." said Julian as he moved his hands down to his abductor's waistband and then run them up inside his shirt."We're going to remove this shirt..." As the abductor reached down with his meaty hands and grabbed a hold of the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up, over, and off his torso and head, Julian sent his hands gliding across the man's abdominals and obliques, then catching up to the man's pecs, giving the nipples a squeeze. The whole time Julian was getting harder and harder in his pants over how built this man was, and now how hairy he was - he could run his fingers through it on his chest. Tall, built, hairy... this man's body had almost everything Julian ever wanted in a man. "Oh gawd, he can't be handsome... if he's handsome then I'll... and what a fuckin' eight pack. I could trace that all...." ["Pardon?"] "Nothing! Nothing... just kind of mumbling to myself." Julian kept alternating hands left and right, back and forth, letting each one massage a nip, or stroke the obliques, or trace the abs. He kept this up for quite some time until wrapping his arms around the abductor's neck, he spoke. "What I need you to do now, if were truly going to see if you're gay, is to pick me up and support me either around the waist or under my ass." As the abductor did so, Julian lip locked him giving him one of the deepest, most passionate kisses he had ever given a man. Julian wasn't sure who this was, even after being told the man knew him somehow from somewhere, but that feeling, that instinct that he somehow knew the man quite well was talking over along with a burning desire the more he felt the man's granite like body. The man although surprised at first by the kissing motion, began to return it back just as equally passionate, and when Julian began to use his tongue to caress the abductor's tongue, the abductor followed suit pressing his full pillow like lips even deeper towards Julian. Julian ran his hands through the man's thick hair, over the plinth like neck, across the mountain mounding traps, skimmed over some bowling ball like delts, and finally after caressing the tris and running a finger to trace the quickly rising blood vessel across the top of flat yet still quite mounded bicep, begged the man to flex one for him so he could cup it in his hand. The feeling of the large ball of biceps was almost enough on its own to make Julian reach an early climax. "I need you to put me down and for you to get out of those pants." ["You will trick me. You will leave me once they are around my ankles."] "No.... I will stay here, I promise." The man did as he was told to do so, even taking off his socks and shoes in the process. When the man announced that had stripped out of his lower clothing, Julian dropped to his knees and asked for the man's foot. Raising his foot, the man allowed it go slightly limp as Julian moved it to position it on one of his thighs. Upon contact Julian let out a small gasp. ["Are you alright?"] "Yes. I expected you to have decent sized feet, being a tall man and all, but these are getting up there." ["Is that a problem?"] "No..." and Julian swallowed hard before answering. "It's a turn on. They feel about as long as a ruler, maybe slightly longer. They are wide too, thick, meaty. They're just as muscular as your upper body is." ["Size sixteen, 4E wide."] Once again Julian swallowed hard as he began to caress the man's foot with both of his hands, massaging and rubbing them, running his finger between the man's toes. Eventually he moved his hand across the arches and ankles, through the hair on the man's legs up the shin and across the back to grab a hold and kneed the man's very ample calves. The abductor's ankles were as thick as his wrists and the calves were hard dramatic sized diamonds. Julian shuddered out a breath, realizing, calculating in his mind that this man was overly blessed in the genetics department. He was incredibly thick in a regular, average, skinny state, which meant that he could blow up far more than what he was now and carry an insane amount of muscle weight on this frame. Tracing the hamstring up to the thigh bicep, Julian caressed the abductor's thigh, moving his left hand to trace and feel the crevices and mounds of the tear drop shapes, while his right traveled up to, run into, cup, and grab the bulging, bubble butt cheeks. These legs matched his torso in being so full and stacked with defined, dense, muscle. If the man snapped his leg straight, knees locked, foot pointed, it became a massive column for Julian to climb and cling around like a growing vine of ivy. Suddenly Julian pushed himself away. "I can't do this. Go stand on the other side of this barn!" ["What? What is wrong? What is the matter? I don't understand."] "I just can't. No... this is wrong... I won't. Stand on the other side. GET AWAY FROM ME!" ["Is there something wrong with my body? I thought you liked very muscular men. Am I too hairy, perhaps I should shave?"] "It matters not if you shave! I just can't. It can't happen. I need you to leave... me... alone!" ["I... I'm sorry... for... whatever I did... please... please I need you to finish this.... I need to know..."] "How are you feeling right now?" ["Confused.... scared...incredibly lonely now that your touch has stopped. Extremely upset at the thought of upsetting you. Losing you...even though I don't really have you because I..."] "You were turned on and you don't want the feeling to end. You're feeling a physical and emotional loss at its sudden stop. All this from the touch of a man. Have you ever felt this way towards a woman?" ["No."] "Alright. Then trust me, you are gay. How are you hanging now? Still erect, or soft?" ["Soft... ...suddenly very soft....I think the shock and feelings of guilt and embarrassment have made it even recede slightly less than normal."] "Alright. I did this out of selfishness." ["Did...what?"] "Pushed you away. I was hoping it would make you flaccid. If you're going to keep me here, make me do this to you, then I need to get something out of it for my own sake. I want to feel you get aroused. I want to feel it become erect in my hands, and if your body is any hint of what you might be packing, I'm going to fuckin' love this." Julian motioned for the man to come back towards him. When Julian could feel the presence of the abductor's body near him, he got back down on his knees, reached out and felt for the man's crotch. He wasn't displeased or surprised. "Holy shit..." Julian gasped. "You had better be just a shower or I'm going to be in big trouble..." The man pulled his body back a little and blushed all over. Julian could feel the heat rise and radiate all over the abductor and feel the man's stance shift into one that was coy and shy instead of the usual confident and aggressive. "Do... you know how big you are?" ["Eight and a half inches soft."] "A..aan....and e...erect?" ["Eleven and three-fourths by six"] "Holy shit.... fuckin' beast...." Despite his now slight apprehensions, Julian reached out and began to caress and stroke the abductor's mighty cock with his right hand. His left hand went past to cup and fondle the man's balls, which felt as equally larger than an average man's testicles as the abductor's cock did. Within seconds, Julian's thumb glancing across the man's scrotum had the abductor moaning in pleasure. In only a minute or two, Julian's right hand felt the abductor's cock surge and swell, throb and bob, lurch and lengthen, tighten and thicken. It grew impossibly hard and straight like an iron bar with a many a veins crossing over it and a clear and firm penile raphe underneath. The head quickly out grew it's hood of excess penile tissue, the abductor being an uncut man. That head grew a bit thicker and fatter than the rest of the penis forming a perfect helmet at the end of such a long shaft. Fully erect the abductor's penis just stuck straight out from his body. Its own length and thickness making it too heavy to physically rise and point upward and smack the man's abs on its own. It did however bob and bounce like a fishing rod, each and every time a pulse of blood coursed through it. Once fully erect it didn't take long for Julian to stop his stroking procedure and begin sucking on it in true sucker and lollypop style. The abductor shuddered and moaned as Julian's lips encompassed his cock head and form a seal around it. He uttered and sputtered as Julian's head moved forward, causing his lips to do the same and caress that shaft as long and as far as he could. Julian did all manner of tricks to suppress his gag reflex, which was being activated more and more by the super shaft filling his mouth and then throat. Soon his tongue went to work, swirling round and round the shaft, tracing the raphe and licking the underside of the cock from base to piss slit, before beginning an in and out dart and flick session that traced the crown of the head and flicked the slit until the abductor began squirming and wriggling in mad, mad ecstasy. ["AUGH!...FUCK!....WHAT...HUH HUH HUH....WHAT THE HELL...ARE.....ARE YOU....DOING TO ME!?"] Julian didn't break his contact to inform the abductor at exactly what this was. Instead he kept working and working the mega meat until he was able to take it all the way down so that his chin tickled the abductor's balls while his nose were tickled by the abductor's public hair. The abductor couldn't hardly take it anymore. His legs began to contort. His feet and toes began to curl. Slowly, small strides at first, he began to step forward, pushing Julian more and more until they hit one of the great walls of hay. It was at that moment the abductor heard a pop. "Take me.... take me now. I don't care that you're my abductor. That you have kidnapped me. I need to feel you in my lower parts now!" Julian jumped towards the man, his arms clinging around the man's bull neck, his legs wrapping around the tight waist, his lips planting a firm, firm kiss on the man's lips. The abductor wasn't sure what to do, so with just hands and body for guides, Julian finally got himself lowered onto the abductor's dynamic dong and showed the man what it felt like when one takes a tight, tight, ass balls deep. ["Oooooh my gawd! feels.... IT FEELS!...."] "Shut up and develop a rhythm to your pounding. Get into that....lose... UGH! your. ... OH!...s...self and go with the rhythm. OH OH OH OH FUCK!" Julian's back and shoulders were being pushed up and back, digging into the hay bales, individually pieces of straw stabbing and slightly cutting into him. His hole felt like it was being stretched and stretched and stretched while his insides felt as though they were being moved around. The abductor felt like he had found a jacking machine that finally fit him. Waves of pleasure crashing over and overwhelming his mind and senses. His primal instincts took over, leading his body into that natural rhythm of pounding and ramming. It wasn't too long after this... ["Oh.... oh... AIEE! I'M GONNA.... OH SHIT....IT'S GONNA...GONNA!"] In a quick motion, the man stepped sideways and Julian felt his back exposed to air. The man pushed Julian off of his cock with a loud pop and then suddenly became spastic. ["Auuuuuuuuuuuuuugh HUH HUH AAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGH OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH HUH HUH HUH HUH HUH AH HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCK HUH HUH AH SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HMMMMMMMGRRRRRRFFFFFFF HUH HUH HUH OOOOH!"] Having landed on his feet, Julian stood there, in front of the man, in absolute amazement. Despite the man falling on his knees and Julian being a couple of feet away from him, the man managed to shot his load across and up the distance to splatter on the front of Julian's shirt. The realization sent a spasm down Julian's spine, over his ass, across and into his balls, which in turn sent a sensation up his cock and there Julian shook and shivered in orgasm. Julian heard the man moan a bit more and then the sound of his body collapsing backwards to the ground. He also manage to deduce that he had to be in the opening that led to the doors of the barn. "Fuck it..." he thought to himself. "It'd only help prove my story if I'm found pants less. Leave the jeans behind." And in a swift motion, he blindly reached and jumped above him, near the edge of the tunnel and latched onto the strings of one of the hay bales. With a bit of struggle and jumping, he managed to weaken the bale that was the cornerstone of the arch and soon he could hear and feel the multitude of stacked bales above him coming down. Julian then turned and ran out the tunnel. ["No! Wait! Auuuuugh!"] Julian removed his blindfold once he could tell he was out of the bales of hay. He stumbled slightly as his eyes adjusted to the light and began to see again. "Damn, this barn is huge!" Julian never stopped running as he could hear his abductor roaring in panic and stack was shifting constantly. This man was not only large and strong enough, he was well versed and practiced in hay baling and pitching. The man was almost clear of the fallen hay bales by the time Julian got to the barn door and managed to pull it open far enough for him to get through. Hearing the heavy footsteps breaking in to a run, Julian knew that an escape via a driveway or pasture run wasn't an option. Instead, he had to go into the house and hope that he could lock and barricade himself in and his abductor out and make a phone call for help. Still blinking his eyes to adjust and clear his vision, Julian spotted and stumble ran towards the house, hearing the barn door not only being pulled open slightly wider but practically being flung open the entire way in one fell swoop. He ran and ran his footsteps beginning to bound and bounce like a jack rabbit, but his attacker, his abductor, despite making plodding sounds like a bull, began to prove he's more like a Clydesdale horse. Julian wondered if he would make to the house in time, when suddenly there was a blinding light that over took the whole yard. "Oh shit, I set off automatic flood lights....can't see..." Julian heard the word, ["fuck!"] behind him and the heavy sounds of large feet and man they're attached too fumbling and falling. He never heard the final thud, though. At that same moment he tripped and fell, face first to be planted firmly into the ground, his feet high in the air.
  25. geektofreek

    muscle-growth Dwarfed by Dad

    Please excuse the errors as this was written on my phone. Enjoy! DWARFED BY DAD PART 1/4 It was shortly after my dad’s second divorce that he would start joining me at the gym. I was a hobbiest bodybuilder, at best, standing at five-foot-eleven and weighing in at around 235-pounds. He was definitely eager to get in shape, “impress the ladies”, to quote him correctly. Things started at a little slow, especially those first couples months. I wasn’t really holding my breath though, given the fact that he was pushing sixty-years old. But one week as we rinsed off in the locker room showers, after a nearly three-hour workout, I noticed the remarkable faint rippling of muscle beneath his usual beefy silver haired abdomen. Then as he raised his hands to wash his hair, there was slight bulge beneath his upper arms, a simple curvature, a bicep. “Looks like you’re finally showing some results, dad!” I proudly complimented “About time!” Dad said giving his arms a couple quick pumps, holding back his excited smirk. “Just the beginning I hope…” The unexpected scenario made me wonder, not by any means worryingly, just how big the old man was planning to get. I was excited to see his motivation. Seeing actual visual results had my dad pushing harder then ever after that day, so hard in fact, it felt like having an actual workout buddy, rather than just my father tagging along. “You ready to see these gains, dad?” It was towards the end of this one week, about seven weeks later, I felt so mammothly pumped from this totally insane new workout plan I was on, I honestly couldn't wait to see the results. A couple weeks back, we had agreed to only start weighing ourselves once a week, just for kicks. So with my dad standing next to me, showing the slightest signs of muscle bulging beneath his old man skin, I might add, we both stood on the gyms identical digital scales. At the time, he weighed about fifty-pounds less than I did, or so I thought. “How did I LOSE weight?” I blurted the words out loud, feeling my smirk, my pride, fall out my gut and onto the gym floor. All the work I had put in these last couple weeks, all that time, just seeing the loss of eight-pounds, on the scales digital readout, had me absolutely nauseous. It had to be an error, I thought. But I stepped back on, seeing the same readout, “239-pounds”. I was so close to finally reaching my goal of 250-pounds last week, it didn't make any sense! “Looks like the opposite over here, champ.” My dad delightfully remarked, making me turn piercingly, cringe my teeth even. The old man really did mean the opposite, standing there proudly next to me, pumping on his old arms, creating this ridiculously meaty bulge against his arm, this defined bicep, with the scale blinking a readout of 194-pounds, a gain of exactly eight-pounds. I'll be honest with you, seeing the slightly smaller gap between us, had me slightly anxious. “W-Wow...” I still tried to play it cool, with an embarrassing stutter. “I never thought that you would actually start gaining muscle, dad.” I’m pretty sure that statement just added fuel to the fire, as my old man, with those piercing blue grey eyes, turned to me looking like some arrogant teenager, the glamour of a new challenge, twinkling behind his once bored now lustful eyes. The next day, he showed up strapped into proper gym clothes, bulging even bigger than yesterday, or so it looked. I figured it was just a different clothing size, but then, and I know this sounds crazy, it was almost becoming impossible, as the days went on, to even keep up. “Look at this, champ!” Dad raised his bulging silver muscle arm in front of my face. “Sleeves are getting tight…” He had gained ANOTHER eight-pounds since last week. The small curving mound of muscle had developed into a full blown peak, this enormous baseball, stuffed beneath his silver haired old man arms. Dad couldn’t help but love showing off his incredible developments, at the gym, at home, even at the grocery store. I'll admit though, they were incredible to look at, even though I was still bigger, it was just crazy to see that kind of muscle on a man old enough to be most people's grandpa. “Now my shorts are getting tight…” Another week past, and this time he gained TEN-POUNDS of muscle. I couldn't believe it. In fact, most days I wanted to be sick. With all that extra weight, he was now less than twenty-pounds away from outgrowing me, this huge bodybuilding grandpa, in just a matter of months, weighing in 212-pounds of muscle. Just like he said, his shorts, the brand new ones he had only too recently bought, were now bulging with insane dimensions of his veiny bloated silver old man muscle thighs, disgustingly cupping his groin area obscenely, especially when he would squat. “J-Jesus, dad, I’ve never seen anything like it…” I still tried to play it cool, liked the avid bodybuilding I am. “You’re telling me, kid” Dad lifted up his shirt, revealing this EIGHT-pack of abs. “I’m EXPLODING with muscle” I dropped my jaw, the whole gym did. What fucking sixty-year old has hairy deep cut chiseled abs! On top of that, he looked almost twice as ripped as yesterday, with this iron-plated-v jutting down into his sagging, yet horrendously overstuffed and bulging, neon gym shorts. That day, while we were in the shower, I honestly couldn't stop staring, gawking, and my dad just ate it all up. How was he growing so fast!? To make matters worse, as far as feeling emasculated, that is, I was born practically hairless, barely any hair on my body at all, “baby smooth”, my dad would often comment. “I look like a fucking KING!” Dad, however, as he spouted his arrogance, lavishly rubbed and soaped up his growing rippling display of hairy meaty male muscle cleavage, rubbing and pinching his flapjack-sized nipples, getting off on his prowess, all his newfound power, like some total king, just like he said, this unstoppable growing alpha man. RIIIPPPPPP RRIIIIIPPPPPPP “GOD-damn, would you look at that!” Two weeks later, dad finally grew to the point of bursting through his first article of clothing. He said the words so delightfully, looking unapologetically smug, like he expected this to happen, turning his gaze delightfully, raising his arm, to see the small gaping hole on the underside of sleeve, right in the middle of his huge sweaty hairy armpit. He was so playful and curious, some big kid at the breakfast table, fingering the small opening almost like it was pussy, even going as far as slightly tearing it, which seemed to gave him an idea. It was with a devilish chuckle, like a lightbulb going off in his head, he raised that same arm and gave it a mighty and monstrous flex. RIIIIPPPPPP “GUNS bigger than Superman's!” He roared as his bicep, this totally massive bowling ball of chiseled hairy perfection, suddenly exploded through his sleeve, an atomic-bomb going off, blowing the fabric apart into a million threaded pieces, a scene out usually only my comic books, my dreams, all while I was eating breakfast. Then, continuing his disgusting piggish muscle show, he held up and squeezed the huge chiseled peak of old man muscle, right into his face, with so much silver hair flaring out, it was if a forest had grown in this entirely monstrous muscle cave, but it was just armpit “Fuck, I smell like an APE!” Dad gave his armpit a big whiff, inexplicably wafting his horrendous sweaty odor into my face, so sultry it made my dick suddenly bulge underneath the table. I wasn't gay, but fuck, he was just so manly. With my mouth completely dropped open, the half-eaten bacon and eggs falling back to my plate, I knew it would be hard for dad to not keep demonstrating and showing off his superior growing muscle strength. RRIIIIPPPPP “FUCK, yeah!” It wasn't long before he quickly raised his other arm, in a detonating fashion, with an equally loud laugh, a pleasing roar, as his other bicep exploded through the fabric even faster than the first. With both arms free, he began taking turns flexing and posing each magnificent peak of hairy muscle, over twenty-inches now from the looks of it, nearly the same size as mine! He also tried to flex through the front of his shirt, inflating his chest, the enormous blimping grandpa male muscle cleavage, but thankfully he couldn't. That didn't stop him from whistling in delight, openly fantasizing about the prospect of getting even bigger. “Won't be much longer, kid. I expect I'll probably outgrow you by the end of the week…” “I didn't e-even realize you WANTED to grow so big…” I stuttered like a kid. “Are you kidding me? Now that I've got a taste, I don't think I EVER really want to stop growing…” Dad smirked wildly, as he continuously pumped his huge hairy meaty man arm, slowly walking away. I was speechless, dumbfounded, watching, as his big old man bubble butt gobbled and thundered the back of his skin tight gym shorts. I know it may sound kind of weird to note this, I swear, I'm completely straight. But I’m giving you all the details because, and I'm gulping just saying this, his sleeves, weren’t the only thing that he would destroy that day... ************************************************************ Comments are appreciated! ************************************************************ READ PART 2 HERE