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  1. THE STORY SO FAR - Stephan is a police officer with a very well-endowed boyfriend, Tom. But Stephan's sex addiction to sex leads to him losing his job - and breaking up with from Tom. While staying with his parents in a quiet corner of London, Stephan observes something exciting: an alpha muscle Beast humiliating a fluffy, gentle, weak young beta called Olly. Now, the Beast is helping Olly grow - and it's happening at an impossible rate: muscle, height, cock, hair, character. Where will it end? Hakan's new boss/lover wants to see how far Olly pushes Stephan and vice versa. Tom is still sexting Stephan at night. And when Olly tries to get Stephan started at his gym, it seems a very mysterious set-up, perhaps run exclusively by gay men: but why? Chapter 9 is here. 10 Olly Friday October 5th 'You've changed...' Everybody's saying it suddenly. But is it true? Here I am in the same room in the same house that I wrote this diary in, in January and in July. These are the same hands that wrote it, though less delicate somewhat (in a spot of anger the other day, I snapped my biro), and although I had to cut off my charity bands and friendship bracelet (the one Sophie gave me, that night in midsummer) it was out of necessity, not bad feeling or trying to forget. I'd still support those charities, I still want that friendship. I still listen to Green Day, even if I split their band t-shirt open in a sweaty tangle the other, while I was hyper-pumped from shoulder presses and barbell curls. I still read New Scientist's updates religiously every morning. I still think, hey, I could get a job at one of the big observatories. In fact, I can't think of a more perfect life than just working out, eating big, staring at the stars and learning more about them. The essentials. I can see myself there in thirty years time, thinking just the same things. Fuck, how big will I be by that time...? 'You've changed.' Sophie said it in a text. It was her last word on the subject. She wants us to have a trial separation, or get some air, or something prim and proper that's just masking the fact she doesn't want me in her life any more. She can't come out with it, she can't get down to the essentials the way I can. She's so nice about it, so sweet and gentle, and it drives me mad. If that's the way I used to be, back when I was little and fluffy and thought crunches were something you ate with a dip, well, I'm glad that I've changed. She just wanted to talk, not cuddle. Then she was persuaded that cuddling was 'nice'. Then she got curious about feeling how big my arms had got: could she fit both hands around one (duh, no), and she wanted to see how massive my abs are now. She wanted to see how I can make my pecs dance to any song she could think of (she chose an Ed Sheeran song, naturally). She was asking what it is that makes a guy get hairy. She knew she was getting me hot. I knew she was getting wet. Then she wants to fuck. Of course, she wants to fuck. She does a double-take when I release the Anaconda, but then she gets a smile on her face. She's so excited about my size, in every possible way. Suddenly, something in sweet, little Miss Perfect is set free. I know all the family are downstairs getting dinner ready, I know they can all hear me and it's not what nice middle class twenty-one year olds do, but I've got the red mist and she's on heat. The pair of us are going at it like a couple of animals. She's practically falling off the bed, she's got her fists bunched in my beard to hold herself in position, I'm basically tearing her nice, tasteful blouse apart to get at her, I'm getting my tongue everywhere, I'm ripping up her panties and lifting her up so that her lady garden is there on my slobbery, blonde bushy chin, up to my lips, and I'm working my fingers inside her arse. She deserves everything I can give her. If my brother did come to the door, the way I imagined him doing, he must have thought it was a scene out of 10,000,000 BC. I was devoting myself to her like she was a goddess and I was a goatherd living in the wilderness. Or a donkey boy, I guess. That's what she called me, as she came the second time (of five). She was like this new girl, begging me to do her like one animal does another -- but apparently that's my fault. Apparently I made that happen, just because I work out now. Just because I show her what life's really all about. After we both came a few times, I had to head straight out to the gym for my evening routine. Maybe that's what she didn't like. Where does she think her he-man got his stuff...? I've changed, apparently. And she can't take me. 'You've changed!' When the Beast says it, it's a good thing. That doesn't make it any less significant. He said it this morning. He gave a slow whistle, and he laughed. We were coming straight out of the gym, after a hard round of work. God, but my whole body was exhausted, every muscle aching, pulsing, throbbing: sweat was streaming down our backs, pecs, thighs. My arms were feeling especially jacked — I couldn't bend one enough to scratch an itch on my own shoulder — and he was checking out his own massive boulder shoulders. 'I have to capture this moment, bro,' he said, getting out his phone. 'Come on, shoulder to shoulder. Dude, you finally caught me up.' And he snapped us in the mirror, like a pair of giants, one fair, one dark. One of them who is now just slightly, even more ripped, even wider, even taller, than the other. But out of politeness I didn't like to point this out. 'Shit just got real,' he said, showing me the picture. 'You gonna put that on the site?' I said, resisting the urge to point out my slight advantage. Maybe the strangers who comment on there would point it out for him. 'Muscle Worshippers?' I laughed. 'You're not obsessed with any other website.' That's when he gave me that look. 'You've changed, bro,' he said, and laughed. 'You can say that again,' I said, running my hands over my taut physique. 'I'm twice the boy I used to be. I'm five times!' 'Yeah, that's the obvious stuff,' he said. 'You got the goods. Anyone can see that. But something more. You like to show it off now, don't you?' 'Hey,' I said. 'It's not vanity. I worked hard for this.' 'Like a shire horse,' he said. 'But admit it. You get a kick out of it.' 'Not like you,' I said, turning away to mask my hard-on. 'Maybe,' he grinned. 'Dude, I love to see those poofters pop a boner in the group showers, just because I've come in. I'm like a god to them. I love it. Did I tell you I got paid to appear at this special club the other day?' 'No way. What for?' 'Nothing really,' he said. 'It was at this pub over in East London. I haven't told anybody else this.' 'Go on,' I said, chugging down my protein shake. He sat down beside me on the bench and lowered his voice. 'They contacted me via the website. Well, you can send private messages. Normally it's stuff about how inferior they are, how they want me to come and piss on them, or just let them wank off while I watch. Oh, and then there's at least one every couple of days from a guy who wants me to fuck his girlfriend.' My eyes went saucer-wide. 'What? Why?' 'Duh, man. Because they get off on it!' I laughed. 'The world's gone mad.' 'Yeah, I know. I've thought about it, but I think — well, it would interfere with my regime. And Estelle might take it the wrong way. Anyway, this special club meets in this pub, The Black Swan. They have blinds over all the windows, and lights like some nightclub, and there's a stage. And that's where they have me.' 'What,' I said, 'like, making a speech?' 'You are green, aren't you?' He began peeling off his shorts. 'They get me up there in a posing pouch. I show off what I've got.' He balled up his jockey shorts, sodden with sweat, and threw them in his kit bag. My mouth was dry, picturing him doing it. 'Like a stripper?' 'Well, more tasteful than that, of course,' he said. 'Plus, all I take off is my posing pouch. Hardly a routine.' He licked his lips. 'The thing they're really interested in is my strength, my power, my size. I let them have a bit of a feel. Of my guns, that is.' 'You don't get your cock out, then?' I joked, but I must have said it too loud because he looked round wildly, then laughed at himself. 'Well,' he said, 'when they're so enthusiastic, it's a shame to disappoint. And my wang's never disappointed anyone. Look at it. Like a rolled up newspaper!' He leapt up and waggled it in my face, his fist full of pink sweaty meat. 'Urgh! Fuck off!' I yelled, laughing. He stopped waggling, and just stood there with his hands on his hips, waiting for me to undress too. 'And now you're thinking of Muscle Worshippers too.' 'Shall we get in those showers?' I said. 'But,' he said, 'you're thinking of it?' 'Not me,' I said. Now that I think of it, the gay police guy who's always eyeing me up, Stephan, he said the same thing again. Like he ever had any idea what I'm like. The only time he ever spoke to me was that day I first met Nico, and he was so nice and kind and reassuring. All he wanted was my skinny arse. He liked it when he was a couple of feet taller than me, when he was the stronger guy, the hairier guy, the bigger man. And yeah, maybe he liked it at first when I started to change. He would always stop for a chat, always compliment me on my gains. I used to look forward to it. Even when I realised he fancied me, I was cool with that. I even took him to the gym. Hooked him up with Doctor O. I was looking forward to training with him. I knew he'd appreciate the amount of hard work I was putting in. I knew he'd want me even worse, if he saw me like I am in the gym, my veins standing out, my muscle pumped up and hard. And I guess he'd train with me, he'd get bigger. I was looking forward to seeing what he made of himself. Yeah, I suppose I really thought a lot of Stephan. In he came this lunchtime, and pretended to borrow some books. I know he doesn't care what he's taking out. I can see in his eyes, all he wants is some time looking me over, checking out how much mass I've gained since I last saw him. 'Whoa,' he said, adjusting his glasses. 'Hey dude,' I said, going through the motions with his books. 'Your boss really lets you dress like that?' he said. 'At work?' I looked down at myself. Another gym singlet. Once upon a time it would have been loose on me, but now it's stretched tight, and my chest stands pretty much proud of it. It's like a cotton breastplate or something. I laughed. 'He understands. I've gone through my whole wardrobe now. Nothing fits any more.' 'Perhaps I should lend you something.' 'No, don't worry,' I said, quickly. 'I mean, look at me.' He could hardly stop. 'Yes,' he said, 'I suppose it's true. You'd never fit in anything I've got now. Even my actual wardrobe would probably strain.' I smiled at his joke, but I was feeling slightly embarrassed. He used to be the ultimate alpha male, tall and strong and ex-police, and now look at him — dwarfed by a guy who's barely out of his teens. He didn't deserve to be made to feel small. I handed him back his books, wondering what to say. He suddenly cleared his throat, sort of decisively. 'Olly,' he said, 'What about that arm wrestle you promised me?' I didn't know what to say, and we both burst out laughing. 'Are you serious?' I said. I mean, he's in okay shape, but he's not packing even half the horse power up my sleeves. It was like he was asking for a smack-down. 'Maybe,' he said, 'Maybe not. But how do you feel about meeting up after work? I'll buy you a drink to celebrate your latest — growth spurt.' I lowered my gaze shyly. 'That's kind of you, man, but I don't drink alcohol. It's bad for my regime.' 'Well, an orange juice, then,' he said. 'You can't refuse that. At the Crown and Greyhound, six o'clock.' I guess I liked the idea of it. Especially after I saw a couple of the lads last week and things didn't go the way I planned. Fucking jealous little pricks. They wouldn't say anything outright but I saw it in their eyes. Couldn't believe I was the same person. Just because I've got something real and serious in my life now — just because I'm working hard at something. Just because each them wishes their forearm was even the size of my dick. Well, if the old crowd are going to be that way, it's good to have a friend, and it's especially good to have a friend like him — a real man. He may be a poof, but he's got balls. At least, that's how I felt this afternoon. Anyway, I could tell he had something to talk to me about. 'Olly,' he said, getting straight to the point. 'What's all this for?' I nearly spat out my OJ. 'The fuck, dude?' I said. 'Okay, okay,' he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 'It was just a question. This has happened so fast, son. One minute you're a cute — okay, a sweet, normal-looking guy. Daniel Radcliffe lookalike. You wouldn't be able to carry a weights set home from Argos, let alone lift them. An average lad. Fast forward a few months... You're one of the biggest, strongest, most physically powerful guys I've ever seen in the flesh. You're hairier than I'll ever be. And as for your confidence -' I suppressed a smile at his words. He went on. 'Months ago you had these skinny arms, more baby fat than muscle. Now, each of your biceps is bigger than my head. Your chest is just fucking ridiculous. You've gone from being a kitten to a big, fucking jungle cat, Olly — the way you move, the way you look at people, the weight of you...' 'It's who I really am,' I told him, lifting my singlet to show him the thick corrugated ridges of my abs. I saw his eyes start out of his head. Luckily, we were sitting in the beer garden, and nobody was around to think it gay. 'I was always this big guy on the inside.' 'But where does it stop?' I brushed my fringe out of my eyes. 'It doesn't have to stop. I just keep getting bigger and I keep getting stronger. I get broader, thicker, heavier, more cut, more vascular. My appetite for muscle grows every day.' 'Doesn't that scare you?' 'No,' I said, downing the rest of my orange juice and slamming it onto the pub table. 'Well...' I didn't know what to say. I looked at my gorilla sized hand around the glass. 'Maybe a bit. But it's hard to tell if it's fear or just excitement. I'm becoming something amazing. It's the biggest turn on, man.' He took that in, then did a deep breath through his nostrils. 'What do your friends say?' 'You mean the weak little pussies I used to hang out with or the guys at the gym?' He considered. 'Whoever your friends are, I suppose.' 'My real friends support me. They tell me how great I'm looking, but they also see how much further I have to go.' 'I want to know that you're healthy. You've grown so fast. I'd like a friend of mine to take a look at you,' he said. I squeezed my cock, secretly, below the table. 'Really.' 'Not — like that,' he said hastily. 'He's a doctor.' 'I work with a Doctor,' I said, impatiently, as if this whole thing was too much effort — which it was. I wasn't expecting to be interrogated. I just thought he'd be getting off on my size, like normal. 'Yes,' he said. 'Doctor O. I've, ahem, encountered him.' 'Then you should understand,' I said. 'It's hypertrophy, Steve. It's natural. Scientific.' I put my hands behind my head as if I was just relaxing, as if I didn't realise how it showed me off. Behind his glasses I could see his eyes following the lines of my triceps, my biceps, my lats, flicking back to my eyes constantly, hoping I wouldn't notice. 'Lift heavy, rest hard, eat big...' 'Does the Doctor give you supplements?' 'Just his protein shake,' I said. 'I'll show you. No steroids. No drugs. I wouldn't be so fucking proud of myself if that's all it took.' I put the flask on the pub table. Stephan wrinkled his nose. 'But why is he doing this with you?' 'The same reason you want me to,' I said. 'And what's that?' 'To see my full potential,' I said. Slowly I took the cotton of the singlet between my fingers and thumbs and I ripped it down the middle, unveiling the might of me, the sweaty dark hair of me, the meat of me, the stink of me. Stephan was watching, lower lip trembling. 'To see all the stuff a young lad hides while he stays small. To feel just a little inferior. Unless you want to come and train with me, take me on...?' 'Chance would be a fine thing,' he said, seemingly entranced by my body. 'I got in touch with Doctor O. I wanted to know he has your best interests at heart. And you know what? He warned me off.' I licked my fingertips and began glossing up my nipples. 'That's bullshit.' He was breathing deep now, trying to keep his composure. 'He doesn't want me to come near you any more, Stephan. He's experimenting on you. He's trying to create some sort of a — muscle beast.' 'Mission accomplished.' I flicked a finger against my squeezed bicep to show him how solid it was. 'Why won't you listen to me?' he snarled. He raised his hand: it would have been threatening if he hadn't been so much smaller than me. 'Stop acting like some muscle worshipping size queen. I saw you before you got into all....this.' He gestured at my abs, my thighs, my packet, my shoulders. 'Come on, Olly. You're bigger than this!' 'That's not how it works,' I told him, leaning across the table. 'Look at us now. This is a battle. And I've got all the power.' 'You really have changed,' he said. Bang, there it was. 'If that's true,' I said, 'it's for the best.' He stretched out with his hand, and I almost flinched, thinking he was going to try and land a punch on me, but instead he cupped his hand around my left pectoral. He squeezed it. I tensed it so he could see just how granite solid it was. I suddenly realised there was sweat on his brow. I could feel the moisture on his fingertips: he ran one softly over my left nipple. My tree-trunk dick throbbed in my jeans, longing to be set free. 'Dude,' I breathed, 'I like girls. You know that.' He released me. 'I just had to know what it felt like.' I took his hand in mine and pressed it to the table. With the other hand I reached under the table and rubbed my cock, longing for it to calm down. I love to feel the head of my semi, outlined through my jeans like the big round top of a freshly baked muffin. 'I get looks off guys all the time now. In the changing rooms, the library, the street, all the time. But this isn't about sex. This is about power.' 'That reminds me,' he said. 'How about this arm wrestle?' I burst out laughing. All the tension was gone. 'You really wanna be punished, don't you?' 'Hey,' he said, 'Never heard of David and Goliath?' I took one of his hands in my enormous mitt. I could feel the weight of him at the other end, could feel him take the strain. I decided to go easy on him. I screwed up my face and pushed, ever so gently. I felt him wrestling back against me with all his might. It was comical. The veins were popping out on his neck, and every fibre of muscle in his police sergeant forearm was pushing against me, and I was barely even trying. I loved this. If being praised for my gains was foreplay, this was like sex! A low guttural moan of pleasure came unexpectedly from the back of my throat. This seemed to prompt him into making more noise. 'Oh yeah,' he said, his teeth gritted, his hand wet with perspiration. 'Oh yeah, oh yeah.' I shook my head. 'You really want it, don't you?' I said. He looked into my eyes. 'Give me everything,' he said. I whirled him out of his seat. Effortlessly. A big guy but I flipped him like a pancake. He landed on the floor with a grunt. I got up and went over and stood over him. 'What's up, little man?' I said. 'Still want to complain about what a giant I am?' He leapt up and put both arms around my neck, tugging me to the ground. I hadn't expected that, and a big smile was on my face. We wrestled, or rather, I wrestled to pin him down, and he wrestled to get free. My dick was oozing precum at this. I was his master. He would obey me. At last, I pinned him to the floor with one hand on his chest. He looked angry, but I could also see his jeans tenting. I laughed. 'I wish I could oblige, man,' I said, 'but my Anaconda only goes one way.' 'Your dick's grown too?' He said, getting to his feet and steadying himself on the table. 'The holy grail. So what's your secret?' 'I'm young,' I said. He looked hurt at that. 'Fine. I guess you'll be off up Uranus again soon.' I looked at my watch, letting my forearm, pumped with exertion, fill his vision. 'Guess I am, little guy. It's been fun, though.' It was only after the evening work-out that I realised what had happened. 'That little prick,' I said, turning my bag inside. Nico — I can't call him the Beast any more, now that out of the two of us, I'm the bigger and hairier — was towelling off his glutes. 'Who?' 'The police guy. Stephan.' I was full of rage. 'He's taken it.' 'Taken what?' 'My shake,' I said. 'He must have slipped it into his bag while I was gloating in the beer garden this afternoon. What am I going to do now? Buy something from a shop that's loaded with corn starch? Fuck myself up?' I punched a locker with fury. I was slightly taken aback to see the metal crumple under my blow. I tried to calm myself. I could do some real damage now. If Stephan had actually been there... 'Whoa! Dude!' Nico put a hot hand on my ginormous shoulder. 'Come home with me. I've got boxes of the stuff in the cellar.' 'You have?' Nico grinned. 'You know how close Doctor O is to my Dad, don't you? And Dad would love to meet you.' I swallowed, suddenly nervous. I was actually being invited back to Nico's place. I was going to meet his Dad, see his place — and finally be reunited with Estelle. Estelle! How many nights had I dreamt of this moment. No, not dreamt — fantasised over, pumping my hard cock in the privacy of my bedroom, imagining the moment I finally undid the humiliation of that summer's day in the library, that day that feels so far away. When I was just a boy, smooth-cheeked, fluffy-haired, little-dicked, puny little Olly. When Nico stood over me, showing off his stuff, and she was there, leaking pussy juice at the very sight of it. Estelle! At last I would show her what a real man looks like. My heart was pounding like I'd just done a hard cardio session. I pulled my hoody over my gym vest and followed Nico through the village, almost hoping she wouldn't be there. But sure enough, she was there at the door to meet us. She did a double take when she saw me. 'You've changed!' she giggled. 'Fuck me!' 'If you say so,' I said, blushing through my beard. She licked her lips and looked me up and down. 'Nico said you were hitting the gym with him. I'd never have expected such a transformation. Well done you!' 'Do you approve?' I asked her. We were standing in the hallway. Nico was kicking off his shoes. He stopped to hear her reaction. She looked me up and down, then looked at him, then back at me. 'Were you born in a barn?' called a man's voice from the kitchen. ' What are the pair of you doing out there?' It was deep and resonant and cultured. Nico's Dad. I'd forgotten he'd be here. 'I brought Olly back,' called Nico. 'Is there some reason he can't come into the house?' Nico looked at me, and we both laughed. I followed him into the house while Estelle closed the door behind us. I gave her a backward glance, and caught her looking at me strangely, like she was still considering about my question. My beating heart gave my dick gave a little pump of excitement. The game was on. Oh, I didn't say anything about Nico's house. It's amazing. Got to be Victorian, but it felt so beautifully warm and stylish. The bare boards gleaming, huge modern art canvases on the walls, and the kitchen was one of those big ones with an island in the middle. Nico's Dad was preparing dinner, a handsome man somewhere in his fifties, an impressive figure with a mane of hair just beginning to go salt and pepper and a beard that was bigger than mine — but carefully combed and coiffed. Everything about him was a little bigger than mine, in fact — he was like a small giant, in charcoal grey jogging bottoms and a Uranus gyms t-shirt. Taller even than Stephan, who thinks he's all that. He was adding spices to a big pan of chilli. 'Hey Olly,' he said breezily, 'Good to meet you at last. How's things?' I'm never good with meeting other people's parents, although Nico's Dad put me at my ease more than is usual. I told him things were pretty good — leaving out the stuff about Sophie and Stephan. Nico told him about the drink — leaving out the fact it was stolen by an ex-copper after a wrestling match in the local pub's beer garden. 'Oh, I thought you were staying to dinner,' said Nico's Dad, looking disappointed. 'I've got plenty.' 'Go on,' said Estelle and Nico at once, then both giggled shyly. They were like a pair of conspirators all through the evening. I kept trying to catch Estelle's eye, and I pulled off most of my usual tricks — folding my hands behind my head, which spread me open at my widest and most massive — cracking nutshells in one hand — lifting my shirt to scratch my monstrous, hairy abs. I even took off my hoodie, telling the table the spicy food was getting me overheated. And as I sat there in my gym vest, looming over Nico, dwarfing the furniture, my bulging musculature glinting with a little perspiration in the candlelight (yes, the food was spicy) I could feel the other diners stealing glances at me, all of them, wondering at me, what I had been and what I had become. But Estelle and Nico carried on with their conversation. Nico's Dad leant across and brushed my hand with his huge paw. 'Won't you get cold like that?' he said, parentally. 'Not really,' I said. 'I'm always a little, you know, overheated.' 'Your metabolism must be utterly raging,' he said. 'Nico told me himself, he's amazed at your rate of hypertrophy. I can see what he means.' I smiled shyly. 'Nico's been a great coach,' I said. 'And a little friendly rivalry goes a long way,' Nico's Dad replied, with a smile. 'Particularly when there's a pretty young woman in the frame.' I looked back across at Estelle. 'I can't lie,' I said. 'But now — oh, I don't know.' 'Now you've realised that's not what's driving you,' he said. 'It's a personal thing, not a vendetta. It's one of the good things in your life.' I smiled at him. 'Thanks. It's nice to hear someone talk about it positively for a change. My friends...' 'They'll stay your friends. They'll realise this is part of who you are. And the more you like you being who you are — sorry, I'm preaching,' he said. 'But you know, personal development has been a big part of my life. Uranus is mine, after all.' 'Really?' I breathed. 'You own the whole gym?' 'You didn't know?' He patted my shoulder. 'Yes, it's my baby.' 'It's an amazing place,' I said. 'I think I love it.' 'You go well together,' he said. 'You're like me. You have good genes. Bricks that are just waiting to be built into a fortress. It's not the same for everyone.' He thought for a moment. 'I delivered a paper on this, only last year.' Suddenly we were talking science. We were talking about things I never discuss with anybody. Biology. Geology. Quantum mechanics. Most of the time this sort of conversation goes over people's heads, and I hide that side of myself — but just like with the skimpy little vest, I was showing off another side of myself tonight. I had never felt such kinship with another man. Now we began to go deeper. We talked about that feeling of reaching for something only you can — about the depths of masculinity we were plumbing — about sex and power and size, size, size... 'I feel a bit rude sitting here in my gym clothes,' I confessed. 'But I outgrew everything I have in my wardrobe.' 'Those things belong to a different person,' he said. 'And you're being born into a new life. It's only right that you should be bursting out of your clothes, revealing your body to the world. We should be able to look at one another that way.' I looked at the curve of his musculature in that Uranus gyms shirt and thought about seeing one another 'that way'. I looked across at Nico and Estelle and imagined all four of us stripping off and rolling around on the floor. I almost didn't notice when dessert was served — baked figs and mascarpone. At the end of the night, I shook hands with Estelle graciously. If there was a trace of lust in her eyes, I tried to ignore it. Nico's Dad used my proffered hand to draw me into a great big bear hug. His beard meshed with mine and I could smell his cologne. I could feel the solidity of his body, I knew which individual body parts were which. I could feel the huge bulge of his cock in his jogging bottoms. It rubbed against mine and, for a moment, I felt both of them swell a little in excitement. Quickly we broke apart. Nico patted my back. 'I'm so glad you guys got along,' he said, ginning. Then suddenly his eyes went wide. 'Your drink!' he said, and ran off to the cellar. 'You should come over on Sunday,' Nico's Dad said, impulsively. 'You can't go around wearing vest tops and nothing else. And what happens when you bust out of those? I'll ask Nico to dig out a few old things of his.' 'Okay,' I said. It was all I could do to get my lips to move, the breath to move in my throat. Stupid, I guess. I mean, come on, it's just hero worship. No big deal. It doesn't mean I've changed particularly. It doesn't mean anything. Nothing at all.
  2. Check out the first part if you haven't already:https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7821-the-little-man-and-the-christmas-wishes-part-1-of-2/ The young man stands up immediately and walks outside the cave like before. Ioan stops him before he leaves though and shakes his head no. “You don’t have to leave the cave for this one Winston. This question is a bit different. During this quest, I have been studying you. You have been put through quite a bit of anguish and I have felt it as you have experienced it. While you haven’t come out and said it, I know that deep down in your soul, you want to be a muscle freak. Your father felt it when he held you in that hospital room. I watched you stare at those men as they fucked Pierre. You wanted to be one of those men.” Winston stops him before he continues. “I have never had the willpower to work out like that though, but…..yes I do want to be huge and powerful. What is this last question you are going to ask me Ioan?” The hunky little man smiles and flexes his impressive biceps. “Exactly how big do you want to be mate? Or rather, how big should I be for you?” Before Winston can answer him, Ioan starts moaning as his legs and arms start cracking and immediately begin to lengthen. The four-foot tall muscleman takes all but a few seconds before he passes five-foot as his bones continue to stretch and reform underneath the fresh skin that is growing on top of his newly forming frame. The young human stares on in complete shock as he watches his guide transform into a normal sized man. After a minute of this, Ioan stops growing taller once he hits around six foot, which is about an inch or two shorter than what Winston is. He walks up to the surprised young man and puts his reasonably skinny arms around him. He smiles as his face now matches the rest of his body in size and proportion. “Well, that was a nice start don’t you think Winston? *he hugs him and rubs the human’s back* This feels kind of nice, but I’m not done if you think this is it. Remember what the question was? How big should I be for you? This time, you can answer me directly instead of walking down that corridor like before.” Winston is nearly speechless as he looks at the incredibly sexy man’s reddish brown beard and green eyes. He immediately leans in and kisses Ioan on the lips as he holds him up against his body. He is quite attracted to him now which has been developing the entire time that he has been with him. They kiss for several minutes before Winston lets him go finally. Ioan rubs his human counterpart’s face and feels his firm frame before he walks backwards a few steps. “Okay Winston, it is that time. I know what I want to do for you because I could feel it inside you as we embraced. What do you want to do for me? I gave you some of my power as we kissed. You can make me as big as you want.” Winston looks at Ioan and can’t believe what he has witnessed so far. He pauses for a few seconds before he says something. ‘I uhhhhh…..what just happened? I just watched you grow taller and now you look……so much like…..’ Ioan grunts in his deep manly voice as he interrupts Winston. He is getting a bit restless as he stares down at his thin frame. “Make me powerful mate, I desperately crave it. Give me what I desire…..mmmmmm……ohhh.” The sexy former little man can feel a burning sensation emanating from the center of his body as he senses a change coming from within. Very faint noises are coming from the bottom half of his body as his pupils dilate. He can feel his feet and calves growing thicker as the veins swell to twice their size as each muscle fiber twitches. The process is slow but steady as it spreads past his knees and moves into his hamstrings and quads. Winston hears him moan as he watches Ioan’s legs destroy the shorts that were riding his ass after he grew taller. He is hypnotized when he sees the former little man’s cock and balls lengthen and swell to nearly twice its size. Ioan is spilling a huge pile of precum onto the floor of the cave now. He makes an obscene motion with his ass like he is being humped by another man as he looks at Winston with a dirty look on his face. “MMMMMM Winston, come here and fuck me please, I crave it so much. Ahhh, my ass is growing…..ohhhh yes, it is getting so big.” Ioan’s glutes swell to resemble two volleyballs. His quads are now nearly twice their size as the growth moves up into his upper body. Winston gives in to his temptation and walks over to join in on his guide’s euphoric journey. He slides his pants off and shoves his cock inside his growing friend’s eager hole. He thrusts hard as he wraps his hands around Ioan’s swelling obliques, stabilizers, and abs as he feels every single one of them pop out and swell against his fingers. He moans loudly as he buries his face into the man’s emerging back muscles which are doubling up on each other. Winston then looks up to watch as his friend’s lats push their way out from his back and flare outward. “RAWR! YES MORE…..I WANT MORE WINSTON…..GIVE ME MORE MATE!” Next are Ioan’s arms and pecs as the veins swell up like garden hoses inside his forearms, biceps, and triceps as they form into huge boulders in every area. It is obvious that the growing musclestud craves huge arms since he immediately flexes them as the bulging cannons form perfect peaks. His delts and traps are able to match his perfectly shaped shoulders. He heaves his chest as each breath summons his pecs to swell even bigger. Winston can see his partner’s nipples drape down along the sides on each mammoth pectoral. He continues to run his hands along the thick hairy marble slabs before reaching up to squeeze the giant mounds of flesh. “FUCK ME MATE! SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT MY MUSCLES!” Winston kisses Ioan’s massive bullneck as he pushes his cock all the way inside him. The thick muscle monster yells in ecstasy as he feels his own cock throbbing as the veins pulse furiously as it bounces with each thrust. The infatuated human screams in delight as he finally unloads inside the hulking hairy monster. Ioan grunts as he feels his balls stretching to their limits as he attempts to hold the massive volcano that is building inside them. He turns his head to lock lips with his human lover. Winston thrusts a few more times before he pulls his cock out to hold on to the hunky muscle monster before Ioan turns around and rubs his massive hardon against Winston’s thin chest. The precum continues to flow like a river as the horny human gets down on his knees to gulp some of it down his throat. Ioan moans deeply feeling Winston run his tongue along the engorged cockhead. “Ohh bloody yeah Winston, I know what you want. You will have to work for it though because despite the fact that I am leaking so much precum, I can hold back for however long it takes to make you fulfill your destiny.” Winston moves his tongue along the veiny shaft as he runs it up and down the sides making it drip with his saliva before he decides to gulp it back down his throat. He can feel it twitch a few times as it starts to completely fill up his entire airway. The sheer size of it makes him gag as he tries to breathe through his nose. Ioan knows what is going to happen next as he continues to lodge the huge rod further down inside his human subject’s esophagus. Winston panics and grips his guide’s mammoth ass and tree trunks as he struggles for each breath. Ioan manages to push it all the way in before his balls begin to contract. The volcano rushes into his huge dick and drains into Winston’s stomach. The cold wintry air around them isn’t enough to keep the hairy beast from perspirating heavily onto his human counterpart as his own breathing intensifies as he holds Winston in place. He moans knowing he is going to turn Winston into a muscle beast next. “MMMMMM, shhhhh. Just stay calm mate and let it permeate your senses. This is the hardest part of the whole transformation. You feel like you are dying, but your body will handle it in……3…..2…..1…..” Ioan can feel Winston’s throat and esophagus starting to get a bit wider as his human partner’s head starts swelling as the muscles inflate in his face and his breathing changes. His winces are now changing to moans as the huge muscle beast pulls his cock out of his human friend’s mouth to let him focus on his own growth. Winston feels his entire body starting to heat up as he tries to keep from losing his mind. “Oh gawd…..oh jeezus…..what the…..fucking…..I feel so numb. *feels his arms swelling now* There are so many things going on in my head Ioan. *his back and pecs are growing as well* DAMN! What a fucking rush…..are you doing this to me?” His shirt is unable to contain the sheer mass that is underneath it as it shreds multiple times. The huge boulders popping out from within Winston’s body along his shoulders and biceps are making his cock react wildly as the excited pole stretches as it thickens. He involuntarily clenches his fists as the veins in both of his arms inflate overtop of his thick growing forearms as giant horseshoes emerge to match his biceps in immensity. Ioan walks up to him to feel his pecs stretch and fill up every single square inch of space on what was a flat surface of skin. His nipples double in size as they rub up against Ioan’s own pecs. The sensation from them touching each other makes Winston’s balls inflate until they turn purple as his swollen footlong spills a sticky ribbon of precum all over his guide’s huge prick. The two musclebeasts lock lips as Winston’s growth progresses down from his chest and into his abdominals which are developing into a huge ten pack. The rock-hard tiles rub up against Ioan’s as the two monsters get even more acquainted with each other’s mass. The heavily muscled Irishman reaches around Winston’s side to feel his lats and obliques popping as they reshape themselves. He finds his partner’s gaping hole and picks him up for a moment to slide his cock inside as his partner’s ass blows up into two equally huge balloons. The growth flows through Winston’s lower half at lightning speed as he yells feeling his legs exploding in size as perfectly shaped diamonds emerge from his hamstrings and quads. His calves manage to match the massiveness of his upper legs as the growth finally reaches his feet which have stretched and thickened up into beastly proportions. They both fall onto the ground as Winston starts bouncing up and down on Ioan yelling and grunting in delight as he feels his partner leaking inside him. With a much deeper and manlier voice that now matches Ioan’s: “Fill me up big man, make me a gawd if that is what you want me to be, I don’t care…..OH FUCK…..this must be what heaven is like!” The bearded Irishman moans as he shoots another incredible load up inside Winston which prompts his body to swell even bigger as every muscle fiber in his body glistens. Winston moans feeling his mantits throb as his cock bounces furiously against his lover’s huge chest. “I can’t make you any bigger Winston, but you are feeling the most intense pump of your life right now. Your body is trying to make you cum and it will get its wish here in about…..” Before he can complete his sentence, Winston’s cock blasts him in his face with several huge ropes of cum. He laughs as he sticks his tongue out to catch some of it and gulps it down. “My turn mate, you might enjoy the fact that mmmmmm…..ohh that feels so good.” Ioan’s cock swells inside Winston’s anus as his body develops the same kind of pump that Winston has. The bearded monster flexes his guns as they rise another inch. His chest follows suit as well as the rest of his massive frame. The two men then take turns licking and sucking on each other’s engorged mountains of flesh. After several minutes of intense muscle worship, they both feel their pumps dissipating and decide to just hold each other as they move over by the fire that is still burning in the cave. Winston gets the bag that Ioan gave him when the quest started and pulls out another blanket to put around them both. He looks into the Irishman’s beautiful green eyes and leans in to kiss him deeply. They lie down and hold each other close as the sun goes down and the temperatures outside drop even further. The steam from both of their massive frames rises off of them and into the cold air. They laugh a bit once they realize just how big they have gotten as a result of all of this growth. Ioan looks into Winston’s bluish-gray eyes before he speaks to him. “Well Winston, this is the end of your quest. You have managed to answer all three questions to the best of your ability so whatever happens next will be up to you.” The well-muscled human doesn’t waste another second when he says, “I love you Ioan. I want you to come back to the city with me. You are no longer small like you were so I don’t think you would fit in here anymore, am I right?” Ioan smiles and agrees with him. “Like I said before, you answered the questions to the best of your ability and this is the result of your final question. During this whole process, you secretly were measuring me up and fantasizing about what I would look like if I was your size, well here I am and I would personally like to thank you mate for fulfilling my destiny as well.” They both embrace and hold each other once again as they fall asleep together. The next morning, they pack everything up and put the fire out before trekking back through the icy tundra and back to the gate which protects the little men’s village. As the gates open, Padraig is standing there grinning as much as he possibly can. He rushes over to punch Ioan in the leg which promptly gets the bearded hairy beast to wince. “HA HA! You feel pain like you never have before huh lad? I have to say Winston, what you did for him is quite impressive. Ioan is a special man and I knew he would be compatible with you. Follow me ye mates so we can have a brief chat before you both return to your homeland.” As they follow Padraig to the rainbow, other little men stop in their tracks and talk amongst themselves as they stare at the two huge hulking muscle monsters which are only wearing the blankets they were lying on the night before as clothing. When they reach the area at the mouth of the giant rainbow, the machine that Winston rode on before stops just feet from where him and Ioan are standing. The little green-suited muscleman that brought them there makes a few gestures and pulls the blankets off them with his mind. They grunt a bit as their naked bodies are exposed to him. He smiles as he waves his hands and then makes a rising motion with them as the two muscle beasts feel their bodies being covered up by some very snug fabric. They both look down at their new clothing and look as if they approve. They then reach over to rub their hands on the fabric but not before Padraig runs over and kicks them. They both wince. “Don’t be getting all horny on me now lads, if you get all erect on me, your tools will probably destroy this getup I got ye both. Now, I just want to say congratulations to you both and I hope that you will enjoy your new lives together. Ioan…..it was a pleasure to raise you as me own and I am glad that you have found someone that will care for you almost as much as I have. Now you two get going.” Ioan waves goodbye to Padraig and gets on the machine as Winston decides to ask the elder a question. “Will I ever be back here again Paddy?” “Why there would be no reason mate. Your wish has been granted fully, moreso than probably three-quarters of the humans that have ever been here before. Ioan is your true love, Pierre was never going to be with you. Now enough chatter, get going so you and me son can start your life together.” After waving goodbye as well to Padraig, he gets on the machine as it quickly glides them across the mountain and over to the other side where the park is. They both get off the machine and stand back as they watch it disappear back over the mountain. The two muscle behemoths decide to stand motionless for a few minutes at the fountain as they notice how the water has a shimmer to it. They both feel snow beginning to fall as they lean up against each other. Ioan wants to jump into the fountain but Winston shakes his head no saying that they would probably be visited by Padraig if they did that. A laugh is heard above them as they walk over to sit down on a bench that is aimed directly at the fountain. The hunky bearded Irishman turns to look at Winston and says a few words. “I have another question for you mate. What do you want me to get you for Christmas?” Winston looks a bit confused but obliges him. “I thought I got my Christmas present already. It is you, is it not?” Ioan winks and then undoes his shirt and pants exposing his massive chest and cock. “Well…..maybe it is possible that I can ummmmm…..grow again. Paddy once told me that I was luckier than his other ‘sons’. There is a part of my mind that I haven’t tried to access yet so there is a possibility that I might be able to conjure up an additional power that I didn’t know I had Winston.” Winston gets extremely excited and rubs his partner’s huge pecs with his hands. “Well let’s try and figure this out then Ioan. I know I am certainly open to fulfilling a wish of yours if you want.” The two muscle beasts begin kissing each other again as the snow comes down even harder on top of them as the afternoon of Christmas Day arrives. This is the end of this story but there is always a chance that we may return to this world in the future.
  3. LJackson

    Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 8 of 14

    Chapter 7 is here. And this is really where it gets interesting... 8 Olly Friday, September 26th Late for work again today. I know it's wrong. A month ago I would haven't dreamt of it. A month ago I was early, eager to please — god, such a good little boy. But was that bad? I love the library — I don't want to piss off Mr Bartholomew — but equally, I can't bring myself to give a fuck. Am I a bad boy now? I'm definitely not so little these days. No, I'm not a bad boy. God knows, I'm working harder than ever. I get up at five to get to the gym early enough for my morning session. Just me, the Beast, and a few other hardcore lads. We devotees of the iron, sweat and lift. Most of those other guys in the early morning, city types with nice pecs, are still only doing half the work that me and the Beast are putting in. We're there to do a cardio session and a few light weights. We spar a little in the changing rooms. That's just session one. We still have our weights session scheduled for the evening. No, that's all good. Mum and Dad and Anthony are pleased to see me taking some exercise. My parents are glad to see me becoming a man. Anthony nods encouragingly, but I can see there's something behind his eyes. Perhaps he's not sure which of us is the big brother nowadays. Especially after his nice pale blue interview shirt got ripped up the back. He found it on my bedroom floor. 'Jesus Christ,' he said, 'What happened to this?' I wasn't in the mood to talk nicely about it. It was a Saturday morning and I was getting ready to go for a swim. 'I guess I happened to it, bro. I'll replace it.' 'You get in a fight?' 'What are you, deaf, blind or an idiot? I told you that I happened to it. In case you haven't noticed, I've put on some weight since you first leant it to me.' 'You mean you outgrew my shirt?' He was turning it over in his hands. 'The sleeves are all burst too.' 'Are they? Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realise you cared about it so much.' 'You don't seem to remember it happening.' 'Sometimes when I've had a good session, and I'm really pumped, I guess I forget myself a bit,' I tried to explain, still packing my swim bag: towel, trunks, shake... 'I just can't believe you've put on any muscle so fast.' 'It happens when you first start at the gym. The Beast's an expert, and I've been reading up. A guy my age has the right chemical balance. He's ready to...' 'Explode?' 'If you want.' 'Show me,' he said. I really hadn't wanted this, but he'd asked for it. I went and stood before him and pulled off my sweat top. I like it because it keeps my new physique something of a secret. It's outsize. You can't tell, at first glance, how very outsize I am. 'Oh, fuck.' He covered his mouth with his hand. 'Olly, you look like a — like a gorilla or something.' 'Do you see how I bust your shirt open now?' I balled my hands into fist, demonstrating the iron bars my forearms have become. I banged on my chest with one first. The smack and the little bounce always made me want to smile, especially thinking how little I used to look when I first struck these poses in the bathroom mirror. 'Do you see what I'm packing? Your shirt was for a normal sized guy, Anthony, and I've started to go way beyond normal.' 'I suppose you're just...' His mouth was dry, staring at the thick sinew of my arms, my hulking shoulders, my rugged six pack. 'You're growing up faster than I thought. I didn't realise you even had chest hair.' I ran my fingertips through it. 'That's testosterone. When you're working out at my capacity, the body starts producing more of it. I'm flooded with testosterone now, and it — well...' I clapped my hands together for emphasis, and couldn't resist pulling a momentary 'most muscular' pose, so he could see the whole story. 'It makes things grow.' He shook his head in disbelief. 'I hope you know what you're doing.' 'Don't worry, little guy,' I patted his shoulder patronisingly. 'I'm right on course.' He looked repelled, and for some reason I loved it. I tried not to show what a turn-on it was, just pulled my sweat top back on and went out the door for that swim. Mr Bartholomew is less than happy. Last Friday he complained that I wasn't taking the job seriously. That was at the start of the day, and I swallowed that down pretty well, but he kept on at me all day. I told him how I was carrying three times the number of books about now, and could reach the higher shelves without standing on a step ladder. He said that was all very well, but that it was attitude that was the thing, and I had a bad one. That afternoon the ex-policeman came in for a chat. Well, I've written about him in here before. It's the highlight of my week. At first I thought it was just because he's a tough like me, and in some ways more so than the Beast. He doesn't lift or anything, but he's army-fit, and fucking tall. He towers over the Beast and has to stoop a little just to come in at the door. He's been in some hard situations, he told me. He said he chased down drug dealers and smacked their heads together. He's been in situations where he's carried a gun, and others where he's had to wrestle a bloke to the floor and pin him. That takes strength, sure, but it takes something more: self-belief. Yeah, he's a tough guy, a real man, the sort of guy my brother would be shy of talking to. Not sure why he quit the force. Reading between the lines, I think it was something to do with addiction. The first time we talked, he wanted to know about gym stuff. I got a real buzz when I realised he'd noticed the little changes in my body, the output of all my input. It's nice to be admired. Of course, I like it from girls most of all. I like to see that look in their eyes that their pussy is melting, that they want me inside it, that they're dreaming of my cock. But when I get it from guys it's worth three times as much, because I know they're saying they put themselves beneath me. I am the dominant one, the alpha male, for once. And then when he was asking again last week, the penny dropped. He's gay. A little — or rather, six foot something — poof. And I realised, as I was talking, that his eyes kept going down to my arms, my chest, my packet. He couldn't stop staring, and then I could see a look come over his face. The look that meant he wanted me to come over his face. I folded my arms before him, and he had to actually take a step back. His eyes boggled. 'So, where do you work out?' he asked me. 'Uranus,' I told him. 'It's just down that way.' I pointed past his shoulder so that my massive arm was right in his face. He stared at it like a hungry man looking at steak. 'Maybe you should come along.' 'I'd like to,' he said. 'You'd like to what?' I said, leaning in conspiratorially. 'I'd like to come,' he said. 'With me?' I said. 'If you're interested,' he said. I gave a big laugh then, put out a big hand and pushed him away playfully. He almost stumbled. 'You've changed since I first came in here, if you don't mind me saying so,' he said, and I've been puzzling over what he meant exactly. But later that day, when the last customer had gone and we were locking up, Mr B. cornered me by the photocopier and said I needed to spend less time chatting and more time doing what I was paid for, or perhaps they'd decide my presence was not required. After a whole day of being baited, that's when the red mist finally came down. I turned and shoved the guy, less playfully then I did the ex-police officer. He went down right away. 'Please don't hurt me,' he whimpered. 'Please don't hurt me,' I parroted. 'I didn't mean to be rude,' he said, 'but -' 'But you're used to being a bully,' I said. 'I'm not. But I could get a taste for this.' I went and stood over him. He looked up at me in horror but also in desire. He didn't know what he wanted, but I did. I slowly undid the top button on my chinos. 'I thought you were a different sort of boy when I employed you,' he said. 'The sort you could push around,' I said, slowly unzipping my fly. 'You were so polite, so sweet-natured.' 'I was littler then,' I said, reaching into my trousers and pulling out my junk, still wrapped in my clean white briefs. I cradled it in my hand, letting him take it in. 'I've grown up a bit.' 'That's a nice size,' he said greedily, getting up onto his knees. 'It's certainly more than I'm used to,' I laughed. 'Do you want — do you want me to suck you?' he asked. More worldly wise than I'd have thought. 'Open wide,' I said, and pulled out my dick. He looked up, uncomprehending, then turned back to my big soft cock, hanging like a piece of ripe fruit from a big, solid tree. He opened his mouth. I caught the back of his throat with a stream of golden piss. He gasped, but I grabbed his curly, grey-white-black hair, and after a second or two he relaxed, and took it like a man. 'Say thank you,' I said. 'Thank you, sir,' he said. 'No more complaints from you, I hope.' 'I only want what's best for the library,' he said, wiping his mouth. 'And all of us,' he added quickly. No, I don't think I'll have any more trouble from him. And I don't think my work out regime is affecting going to the library. I'm always finished in plenty of time to reach the door for opening time, especially now I can run faster than ever before, and it's only a couple of streets away. None of that is so wrong. But when I've finished my morning session, then comes the shower. The Beast and I still shower in adjacent cubicles, just like that first day when could barely lift 10kg. Back when I was a shrimp next to him. I'm nowhere hear his weight and size yet, of course, or his definition — he's still bigger than me, and has five years' advantage on me. I'm still nowhere near the point where I can live my dream. Take his place. Have Estelle tell him how much more she likes my dick. Have him grovel in front of me and call me his master. I'm still too weak for that. And crazy enough that my dick is growing with my muscle, I'm not even half as hung as he is. And we're still pals. We go into our showers together, and I take my bar of Coal Tar soap, and I turn on the water. Jets of red hot water hit my shoulder blades and run down the crevice of my arse, into my arse hole, and down my newly engorged thighs. I take the soap and rub it in circles on my shoulders, around the burning ridges of my trapezius muscles, inside my stinking, furry armpits, over the hard ridges of my stomach, round my dick and balls, up and down my thighs, and up inside my chocolate starfish. And this is where I start to go wrong. This is where I am able to take stock of how my biceps have swelled and my triceps have swelled, as I raise my arms to scrub away beneath them; I can appreciate, in this silence of the water hissing, how much harder and wider my lats are than last week. I soap up my pecs and I take note of how much broader they have grown, and how much further they stand from shoulders and my thick, vascular neck. This is when my dick becomes solid, and I can practically feel my heart beating in it. It seems to stand a little longer and flare a little wider every time I get it hard, and then I soak away at it, marvelling at how it's grown, adoring it with the caress of my bar of Coal Tar. Now I am able to flex and pose and feel how much the muscle has sprouted on and within me. I love feeling the extra mass that I've grown, sometimes overnight. I have to feel the new thickness and solidity of my thick cock, as I pump my big fist on it. I go into a reverie where all I am conscious of is the size of my muscle and how it has grown. I think about the stares I've got from girls and from guys. I think about how I bust Anthony's shirt and how he looked at me with such envy. I think of the jeans I was wearing last week that ripped at the seams because my thighs are so big now. I think of how I accidentally snapped a door handle off the door at the library. I reach down and feel my balls, now big juicy orbs full of spunk. I reach around and feel the tightness and roundness of my glutes. I twist and look down at my tree trunk thighs, grown from hairless saplings. I look at how my body hair has grown wild across the chest and arms and stomach that were completely smooth a week ago. I think of the tiny physique that stood in this cubicle stall once before, half the size of me at least. Fuck, what's happening to me? I feel I'm becoming obsessed. I've got the physique of a true bodybuilder now, but it's not enough — it's really not enough. I've got it in my sights now. Another couple of years and there'll be a beast in that shower stall. Okay, I'm going to have to sneak into the bathroom and have another wank now. I need to do more than get my boss to drink my piss in the library after hours. I need to get some sex soon. I reckon the police officer would go down on me, given half the chance. That's what we were really talking about, last Friday. I made sure of it. 'Come with me?' I said. 'I'm flattered, big guy, but I'm afraid I don't fuck guys. This big mister -' I grabbed my bulge and squeezed it to show him how it crammed my y-fronts ' — is strictly girls allowed.' God, he looked humiliated, though he tried to smile. Fucking queer, after my body. That reminds me. Sophie replied to my text. She's coming tomorrow. I'd better save that wank tonight. I'm going to give her everything I've got.
  4. LJackson

    Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 6 of 14

    Chapter 5 is here 6 Olly Thursday, August 28th Eat. Lift. Sleep. Repeat. I've got that written up above my bed now. I hear it in the pulsing of blood in my ears. And with that insistent beat, I feel like I can feel something else stirring, pulsing like a heartbeat. Yesterday, the Beast put a huge paw on my shoulder. I was just out of the shower, with my towel wrapped around my midriff. I was getting ready to step back into my undies and pull my jeans on and head back home to bed. Muscle is torn apart in the gym, fed in the kitchen and built in bed. 'Wait a minute, bro,' he said. 'Look in the mirror.' I turned and looked, and saw it for the first time. I saw mass. I could see it in my arms, my neck, my chest, my belly, my shoulders, my legs, the sharp ridge of my hips. You might not know it if you didn't know me, but it was like a roll of thunder in the still of the night. I could see it in my eyes, too; in my stance, in the fat veins of my arms. I could feel it with every breath I took in, I could feel a greater weight on the balls of my feet. I could feel it in that slow burning ache that never quite fades. My body is putting on muscle. Of course, next to the Beast I still looked almost girlish. It's the body of an athlete. It's powerful, it's stronger than your average guy, it's the kind of thing a popstar has, or a magazine model: it's not nearly enough. But it's a hard body. It indicates that something has begun. I'm strong enough now to start lifting real weights. And it feels like it's come out of nowhere. I'm working hard, so hard. I'm working out nearly every day, lifting free weights and kettlebells till my arms and my thighs and my core are all screaming furiously — but still this is so sudden. I see other guys in the gym working hard, guys with personal trainers, guys who were working out before I started, and they don't have what I've got. And maybe it's in the stance, the look, the fire in the belly. But it's also a fact that I am bigger than them. I've stripped my body of fat now, the little that I had. I see abs, tiny but boulder hard, when I pull on my shirt in the morning. I feel power in my delts and biceps, even when I lift my Astrophysics textbooks out of my suitcase, when I chug down that fucking disgusting protein shake. I wake up and I feel my heart pumping; at night, I feel my body reinvigorated. I want to fuck, twenty-four seven. My brother brought home his girlfriend last night. She's totally sweet and lovely, got a beautiful smile that comes straight out of her eyes. Really friendly. I was in the kitchen with Anthony, asking about her, and he's just so sweet about her. 'We're going out to loads of archaeological sites,' he told me. 'I make a packed lunch, she drives, and it's just so — comfortable. Nourishing.' 'That's great, man,' I said, watching him cook. 'You probably think we're like an old couple,' he said. 'But life's different when you're twenty-one, man. You'll see.' 'I hope not!' I said, with a big fake laugh, glancing back toward the sitting room. All I could think of was, what's she going to do for a dick inside her? Where's she going to get that from? Her boyfriend, who makes the packed lunch and chooses what motorway to use for their day out? That'll hardly touch the sides. In more than one sense. I see girls in the street and I want to go up to them and put my face in between their thighs. I want to taste them, I want to stick my tongue in deep, to drink them down. I want to listen to them lose control with pleasure. I want them to fill my senses with their sex. I want satisfaction. I was hard throughout the dinner my brother cooked. And I could see the way she was glancing at my arms when I filled her wine-glass, at my pecs when she hugged me goodbye (fuck, but they're so sensitive) that she felt the same thing. I'd never do anything against my big brother, but I could have taken her off him, like that: the filthy bitch. I've never been a big one for masturbation. I always thought it was dirty and somewhat shameful. I only ever used my laptop for my studies in the past. But last night, I shut the door carefully, and I pulled the curtains. I turned on my laptop and I searched for sex. In my underpants, the laptop resting on my crotch, pressing on my ever hardening penis. And I'm looking down at my muscle in the light of the screen. Crazy, veiny, raw stuff. I have a strange urge, more than ever, to tweak my nipples. They seem to have grown more sensitive in the last few weeks. I use both hands, thumb and forefinger. But then I feel I need another hand to take care of my dick. I'm watching a muscle guy fucking. Pornography. I never saw the appeal this stuff has. It's there to reach the bits of fantasy at the back of your mind that nobody else can get at. And there he is, older than the Beast but just about as built. And the girl is being pinned down, she's yodelling with pleasure. I reach into my pants for my dick. Here comes the surprise. The thing inside is twice as fat as it used to be. It used to be, quite frankly, a pencil, and now it's a magic marker. It feels heavy in my hand. Where my fist used to close the whole thing in, I can wrap my hand around it now and the cockhead pokes out, plus an inch or two to spare. Not just the normal kind of muscle. Somehow, the other kind of muscle is growing too. I'm enlarging all over, to scale. When my face is reflected in my laptop screen, it looks no less young, and the expression on it — so innocent. My own body is outpacing me. I stroked my new, bigger dick for a while, staring at it almost as much as I was staring at the porn. Then I decided: I'm a scientist. I need to know more. First I Googled: NATURAL COCK ENLARGEMENT and found oceans of scammy sites trying to sell me machines and yoga exercises. Then I tried MAGICAL COCK ENLARGEMENT and found all the same sites, plus a lot of stuff about magic beans and yogic chanting. I tried searching for, BIGGER MUSCLES OVERNIGHT and got diet plans and exercise videos. I tried SUDDENLY BIG MUSCLE, I HAVE A BIG COCK NOW, UNEXPECTED BIG COCK and NEW BIG COCK AND BIG MUSCLE IN THE NIGHT and got back to the porn, most of it gay, which I'm not into. I tried to focus. I was beginning to feel downhearted and dispirited, and even a little scared. Then, like a light in the dark woods, I came across a message board about muscle growth: Muscle Worshippers. I felt I needed to find out if this had happened to someone before. It's not exactly something I want to share with the Beast. I left a message, explaining my situation, took a deep breath, clicked 'send' and went to bed. I dreamed I had emailed that message to the tall guy in the library, and that I was waiting for him to reply. And then it was morning. Before I did anything, I sat down again at my laptop. There were several responses already to my query. BIG DICK LOVER: Hi DulwichBoy, it doesn't sound like you help, it sounds like you need a willing arse. Good news, I have one hear — bad news, I don't live in London. Are you ever in San Francisco? MUSCLE PUP: Your story got me so hot. I jacked off to it twice before I went to bed. I'm London, maybe we should hook up? ASTROMAN: This Beast is obviously one of the great old ones who walk amongst us and bestow bountiful gifts. You must respect his gift and consider what he is trying to show you. Only then will true enlightenment fall upon you. Also, do you have any pictures? GRANT: Whoa, I love the sound of your hot muscles. I wonder where it will stop? I like to think it won't, and by the time you're 25 (nearer my age) you'll already be a hot muscle daddy. Can you come to NY soon? The Big Apple has room for you however big you get. LUVVABOI: I'm in Manchester. I'm working out trying to get as big as I can. Would love to come and share your magic. Pictures, pls. You sound bodacious. MIKEY9+: My dick has never stopped growing. Also, Musclepup, I jacked off when I read that you jacked off. Any pics of you jacking off to DulwichBoy's story? Reading these responses to his story, I felt my dick swell and lengthen in my pyjamas. There was a tingle at the root, a throb in the cockhead. When I pulled it out, I found that it was at least another inch or two longer and fatter than the night before. The cockhead bulged a little more, like a plum ripening in the dew. I could feel the different kind of grip my thumb and fingers made around it. I had to take some action — so I picked up my phone and took a few pictures with a deodorant can for reference. My body was tingling with excitement. It was nearly time to head off to the gym, after all. Quickly I uploaded the pictures to the message board. DULWICHBOY: Since you asked, this is me. Thanks for all the comments. I'm not gay but I appreciate your positivity. About a minute after uploading, I got a response: MUSCLE PUP: Fuck man, that is a nice dick and bod too. You don't need to get any bigger. So hard right now. Heart racing, I typed my response: DULWICHBOY: Like I said, I'm not gay. I like women. But thanks. So, you lift, bro? I wanked my dick, drawn into the atmosphere of sex. It was amazing to feel the new thickness in my palm, and to see muscles bulging in my arm as my fist pumped that I had never been seen before. Ping! Muscle Pup had uploaded a picture. MUSCLE PUP: Been working out a couple of years now. What do you think? Wow. MusclePup was about my age and height, and he'd been working out about twenty times longer than me. And I was bigger than him. I could take him. I knew I could. I pictured myself wrestling him to the ground. Ping! Another message. 6'5LIBRARYUSER: Hey, DulwichBoy. Do I know you? You're rocking some impressive gains. My heart began to beat in my chest. Quickly I exited Muscle Worshippers and retreated to my email inbox. There was a cute email from Sophie, and I read it peacefully, letting my dick soften. I had to get going, after all. It was time to hit the gym. But I've been running it over in my head ever since. I haven't replied to that message board. I don't belong on there. Nevertheless, I log on secretly and read the comments. For at least a week, the comments kept on coming. Guys from all over the world who were hot for my meat. I never even thought that a gay guy might fancy me before this. (Why would I?) But this is crazy. And I absolutely love it. Yeah, you guys. You want this? You want to feel the power in this arm that used to be so powerless? You jizzing in your pants to see a pair of pecs bulging in my t-shirt? And it's more than that, isn't it? I don't just turn you on, little guys. I have power over you. Any of you. I control you. Bring you to me. Dismiss you. I shame you in your most private moments. Worthless, little-dick, weakling cocksuckers: and the gay guys, too! I'm the boss of you all. And I think that's always been in me, even when I was little. I was always a boss waiting to realise it. Alpha at the core, hard at the centre. Now I'm starting to wield that power — just like the Beast. And my teacher — my rival, only he doesn't know it yet — is proud of his work. 'I'm doing it,' he said today, gripping my enlarged shoulder, prodding my hard abs, making me curl and make a bicep and measuring it against his monster. 'I'm bring it out in you. I'm making you bigger, day by day. How do you like that, little librarian?' I met his eye in the mirror. 'Love it, big guy,' I said. 'Love it.'
  5. LJackson

    Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 1 of 14

    Hey guys, I wrote this novel a couple of years ago and for a while it was on sale at Amazon, Smashwords etc. I've decided to remove it from sale and make it available here in instalments. That doesn't change the fact that it is Copyright Lawrence Jackson 2015. Hope you enjoy it - please give me any kind of feedback you want! Dedicated to the Xhamster user known as 'snuffed' and Tom/Nico/Stephan aka 'Skinnythick' and everyone else who gives a little of themselves online. 1 Stephan Friday, August 1st The plumber said: 'If I'd known this was going to happen, I'd have stopped by the gym this morning.' But he had a nice body, all the better for not being toned. He was in his mid-to-late twenties: his belly and upper body were fleshy — I ran a hand over his left tit, swirling sweat across his fleshly nipple with my thumb — but it was clear enough to me he played footie every Sunday. His hairy thighs, as he braced himself for my pumping first, were muscled like an athlete's. 'You're so fit,' I told him. He smiled and looked shyly down at himself. 'Fuck off.' I finished unzipping his overalls. The heat coming off him was like a radiator. 'I really shouldn't be doing this,' he said, shimmying the overalls to his ankles. 'I'm proposing to my bird next Sunday.' I promised him she wouldn't mind, and began massaging his cock. 'There are some things,' he said, widening his stance so I could go at him more vigorously, 'you just can't speak to your other half about.' 'Tell me about it,' I said, glancing at our apartment's front door. Tom wasn't due back until the evening, later even if it was 'one of those days' at the surgery, so put this one down to a gay man's intuition. 'She talks about getting into bed with another girl,' he said, 'but just to make me cum, and that. She'd pull one of her faces if she could see me now.' He put his hands flat on his hips, and watched as his dick got fully hard in my hand. 'What else does your, eh, fiancé do to make you cum?' He looked at me. 'Getting a bit personal, aren't we?' 'That's my favourite thing to get,' I said. I nibbled his sweaty chest, kissed his hairy belly, licked his dick questioningly. 'She's alright,' he said, pushing my face down onto his dick so that my glasses jolted halfway down my nose. I let them sit there, and got on with the business of deep-throating that intensely warm cock. His whole body was hot from the overalls. I bounced my nose off his crotch, sniffing droplets of sweat from his short and curlies, the saltiness of his pork gliding smoothly to the back of my throat. 'She likes to go on top once in a while. She watches porn with me — well, she did it once when we were in a hotel in Budapest, and she seemed to really get off on it. She really might go to bed with me and another girl, if the circumstances arose. Oh yeah, mate, that is reem.' 'Mmm,' I said, swallowing a gobbet of pre-cum that spoke louder than words. 'And maybe a year down the line, or maybe when the kids are in school at least, when we're really settled,' he said, 'I could maybe buy her a strap-on. Have you seen that online? Pegging, they call it. Stupid bloody name.' I took the cock out of my mouth and kept wanking it, looking up at his expression. 'You got time to do that today?' 'I've got to be in Muswell Hill at three thirty for an estimate on a wet room,' he said, drawing in a thoughtful air through his teeth. 'How long does it take to set up?' 'No time,' I said. 'Turn around.' 'Fucking hell,' he said, following my instruction. 'My lucky day, innit?' He was bent over and spreading his cheeks for me, when I heard a sound outside. Ex-copper's instincts now. That was definitely Tom's car, the way the engine did that thing that I've been nagging at him about getting fixed. I hesitated, then stuck my tongue up the plumber's sweaty plug-hole to play for time. 'Oh fuck, yes,' he said. 'Do you need me to get at a particular angle for you? You're such a tall bastard. Six four, is it?' 'Six eight,' I said, staring at his arsehole, bubbled with my spit. Outside, I heard car doors slam. Three floors up. Tom would walk it, he always did. It took almost exactly five minutes. 'Look,' I said. 'I've just remembered something.' 'Oh yeah,' he said, 'you need lube for a thing like this, don't ya?' 'It's more than that,' I said, getting to my feet. He turned to look at me, worried. 'Well, rubbers, of course. It's been a while, but it's not actually my first time, sunshine.' 'No, something bigger than that.' I saw his eyes widen in excitement. 'One of those big rubber dildo things?' I ran an anxious hand through my curly blonde hair. 'It's my boyfriend.' 'Whatever you say, fellah,' he said, grinning and wanking his cock. 'Extra very well endowed, is he?' 'Funny you should say that,' I said, 'but the important thing is that he doesn't know you're — we're — he's not actually due back till later, but -' 'Oh, shit, say no more,' said the plumber. 'I've been here before, enough times.' He pointed at the floor. 'Hence the zip-up overalls.' I willed myself to remember the order of the Kings and Queens of Britain. My hard-on resisted till I reached the 1920s when I really had to concentrate. By the time I could bear to look back at him, he was fully dressed and writing his number on the back of a card. 'Escort me to your maintenance task,' he said, handing it over. 'You do have one, don't you?' Of course. Fucked if I could remember what it was, though. The key went in the lock. I went cold, looked for my jumper, and the thought leaped out at me. 'The radiator,' I said, as the door opened. 'Excellent,' said the young man, with only a glance toward the new arrival. He had his biro out again already. 'Well, here's my charge for call-out, stripping down, tackling the airlock. Of course, if the problem persists, call me out again at a convenient time and I'll see what else we can do.' My heart was racing. 'Of course,' I said. 'Can you take a card, or -' 'That'll be fine.' I handed over £50, licking my lips with the taste of his fuck-chute till on the tip of my tongue. He smiled that broad smile and I nearly got a tent in my jogging bottoms all over again. 'See you.' 'See ya, mate!' Tom stood in the doorway, watching the plumber leave. 'Well done. I thought neither of us would ever organise that.' 'Time on my hands,' I said, thinking about where my fingers had just been, and wiping unobtrusively them on my jumper. 'Well, yes,' Tom said, frowning. 'I wasn't expecting you to be home...' He tailed off and looked back into the stairwell. 'Look,' he said, to somebody out there, 'this is silly. You'd better come in.' The door creaked open and a young man in jeans and hooded top came in, swinging a camera case. With his bottle glasses, bristling moustache and tightly knotted tie he looked faintly intellectual, but with that dumb look that comes with the heady uncertainty of imminent sex. I smiled at him, to put him at his ease, and he smiled back, perhaps to put me at mine. It was a moment of wild incomprehension and at the same time, perhaps, total understanding. 'You were going to...' I looked back at Tom, who was squatting on the arm of the sofa. In his smart office trousers, his big bazonger was perfectly delineated, and faintly tumescent as well. 'Yes,' he said. 'Dean and I were making conversation at work.' 'Right,' I said. 'We were talking about you,' Tom said. 'I see,' I said. 'And naturally that led to inviting him back for...' 'It did, in fact,' Tom said. 'I was telling him about what you've been getting up to this past year.' Ouch. 'No,' Tom said, seeing my face. 'Don't feel bad. That's what I realised, in my conversation with Dean. That it's good. We should both be doing whatever we want. It'll make us happy.' 'Right,' I said, pulling on my jumper. Tom forced a smile. 'Right,' he said. He looked at Dean. 'Do you want a coffee?' 'Sure,' said Dean. 'Everything okay?' 'I'll get the coffee,' I said, patting him on the shoulder. 'Milk? Sugar?' 'You sure?' Tom looked concerned. 'You two get started,' I said, not quite sure what I was saying, and walking towards the door, turning my head, I saw my boyfriend turning to the stranger and shrugging off his coat. The stranger put down his bag and took off his jacket. I noticed a little staff card in a lanyard round his neck. So the pair of them were both GP's at the same surgery. Trust Tom to meet someone so entirely innocently, after all my debaucheries of the past year. The stuff that's got me thrown out of the police force. The stuff that's wrecked my life. I stood in the doorway, staring at the coffee pot. I could hear them kissing and gasping with the novelty of it. I could hear them undoing a belt. I closed the door, filled the kettle, put it on to boil. I opened the door a crack, spied on the pair of them. I wanted to see the junior doctor's reaction to my boyfriend's huge member. Dean was unzipping his camera bag, while Tom had his hands up inside his starched office suit and was pinching his nipples. Dean took out a huge black camera and turned it on Tom, ordering him to strip. His words vanished behind the hissing of the coffee coming to the boil. I just saw Tom slowly undoing his shirt, dropping his trousers to his ankles. His raging bulge twitched like a black mamba in a sandwich bag. Dean knelt at his feet and carried on snapping. I got my dick out of my trousers and started wanking. The coffee began to hiss and issue steam. Tom took the camera and snapped Dean as he tugged Tom's juicy pink sausage out of his grey, custom-issue y-fronts. Dean played up to it in a practised way, marvelling at the big purple head, the way he could get one hand gripped around it on top of the other. He wanked and sucked on it, spit flying all over the kitchen floor in his enthusiasm. The coffee pot gurgled, and so did I. I pumped my fist faster. Tom and Dean snogged one another, one small dick pressed against a giant, kneaded and ground together. I couldn't help noticing Tom had one eye on the kitchen door. I turned away and served up the coffee, hand trembling. Tom looked excited, slightly drunk — sexy as fuck, of course — but did he look happy? Or just pretending? Whose benefit was this for, exactly? Was I really thinking those things, though, or was I thinking: Fuck, Fuck, Gotta Fuck, Two hot guys getting off in the living room, gotta fuck, gotta Fuck, gotta FUCK FUCK FUCK. (I've come to realise this is the theme song to my days.) I took the coffee in, and the two men broke away. 'Uh, maybe it's not the time for a drink after all, mate,' Dean said, wiping the steam from his glasses lenses. 'Leave it on the table,' Tom said, 'but don't forget to use the coasters.' The doorbell rang. 'I'll get that,' I said, my voice almost lost in my mouth. It was the plumber, of course. 'You alright, big fellah?' he said, looking up at me. 'I got talking to the bloke in specs while he was waiting in the hall. Says he's heard your fella's got a huge dick and loves fucking arse.' I nodded shyly, and welcomed him in. 'Do you want a coffee?' I said. He considered. 'Nah,' he said, rubbing his chin and looking at the couple writhing on the sofa. 'Got that Muswell Hill job, ain't I? Alright, you two lovebirds, who wants to take a straight boy up the arse, and who wants to photograph it?' He was very clear that they shouldn't get a shot of his face, but in the end, of course, the pair of them did: a huge splash. Even the plumber managed to spunk himself on the cheek. I had a wank while they were all three locked together, but for some reason I myself couldn't cum until I was looking at the pictures later on Dean's Tumblr. And I thought about this. Afterwards, over lunch, Tom surprised me: 'I think we ought to have a trial separation.' I laughed. 'That's just what I was going to say,' I said. 'You're driving me round the bend. Making me want new things.' 'Today, all I wanted was you. But I also wanted to fuck everything. I'm not sure I can square it.' He pushed his chair away from the table. 'Maybe it'll be easier if we're both single. We can see more of each other.' He was rubbing his tits through his cum-stained work shirt. 'No. We need to be apart. I'm bad for you. I make you do things you don't want to do.' 'I'll do whatever you want,' he said. He stood up and stood next to me, nuzzling my shoulder with his crotch, where a hard-on was swelling. 'Exactly,' I said. 'I'm not right in the head. I'm addicted. I need to get myself cleaned up, and in the meantime, you need to become you again.' He unzipped and took it out. The dick that had first captivated me when I saw it online. Mr11AndAHalf, Wimbledon. 'I don't want us to get cleaned up,' he said. 'I want us to get completely covered in sweat and cum and piss.' It was still only soft. The temptation was just as massive as his meat-stick. I stood up, stooped, and kissed him lightly on the lips. 'Shush,' I said. 'We both need some time away from sex. I'll go and pack a bag.' 'But where can you go to get away from sex? Who will you be staying with?' he asked me. 'Slutpig93, Musclelad2000 or FatCockStr8Slut?' All of them old friends. Actually, Mum and Dad weren't that surprised to see me. 'You'd gone quiet,' Mum told me, over a cup of tea in the kitchen. 'I knew something was up.' 'I don't exactly get in touch as often as I should anyway!' I confessed. 'This was different,' she said. 'Do you want a biscuit? I've got your favourites.' My favourites are Ginger Crunch Creams, of course. I'd forgotten all about them and suddenly wham, there they are, just when I need them most. I'm eating one now, sitting on my old bed, looking out of my old window. DulwichVillage. Dead centre of normality and peace. Where the net curtains twitch all day, where there are still red telephone boxes and milkmen. The place I waited eighteen years to escape. Well, another eighteen years on and I'm grateful for it. I can take all the peace it can throw at me. Only I had a weird experience at the library, and it rattled me. Mum had some books to take back. Margery Allinghams and Delia Smiths. I needed the walk, as the summer light died on the air and the green leaves rustled overhead. What, I thought, could be more normal, more calming, than the library. Dulwich Village Library has the atmosphere of a chapel. It has the serenity of an attic room. At six o'clock in the evening, when the heat of the day was at its highest, I witnessed an insane couple go to the Self Help section and begin heavy petting. I mean, I've seen some stuff. I've done some stuff. Going public was always a big thrill for me. How can I forget, for instance, walking along the South Bank at one in the morning and getting my knob sucked overlooking the river, a string of coloured lights overhead, and us in the shadow of a tree. Cruise ships slowly passing up the river, playing Ricky fucking Martin, and I'm living La Vida Loca myself with my dick deep down the guy's throat, his headphones round his collar. That's where the queers go, isn't it, that's where we do it: anywhere we like. But I don't think of straight couples doing it, and not in broad daylight for god's sake, and not in a place like DulwichVillage, where Radio 4 is considered slightly common. But there he was, arse like two bowling balls, arms exploding from his t-shirt. Reminiscent, in fact, of a cage fighter who's swallowed a rugby player, and his blonde girlfriend with her legs open for his finger. It was like they'd been specially cast to perform for us. It would have been rude not to look. In any case, I instinctively fell into the role of security guard. When the senior librarian running the library came over on some errand or other, I coughed as low and as loud as I could, in that universal language for 'Put your cock away'. The public pornstar glanced around at me, with an evil sort of smile. Then he knelt down, lifted the girl's skirt, and put his face right in there. The senior librarian actually spluttered when he saw it, and I'm not sure I didn't too. He looked at me, or up at me, of course. I smiled, sweetly. 'They're not with me,' I said, in that special voice we use in libraries. I wanted to hear the noises they were making together. I wanted to see how much further they would take this. I wanted to get my dick out and wank it. Jesus, it was hard. Like I'd starved myself for a week and then someone had just walked in with a big plate of steak. I checked nobody was watching, and slowly began to fuck the books at groin level, nudging my sweaty, precummy, nylon-tracksuit-wrapped cockhead in between the spines of hardback encyclopaedias. Just then I heard a sharp intake of breath, and my head whipped around. It was the junior librarian, a bloke in his twenties. He must have been sent over to sort out the couple in the book stacks, more's the pity. I would have liked the little fellah to have sorted me out first. He was much more my type than the steroid fiend with snake eyes and tight trousers. Textbook clean-cut straight boy: clean fair hair in a trendy yet somehow too-soft quiff. Not unlike Daniel Radcliffe in looks and demeanour. Nicely ironed polo shirt (pretty sure Mum did that for him). Slender and well groomed, a couple of colourful wristbands with charities and festival names printed on them. He'd just taken in for the first time the scene I'd been enjoying , and his eyes were starting out of his head. He'd never seen the like. God, but he licked his lips at the sight, without realising he was doing it, I think. He was so brimful of milky innocence, my heart leapt in my chest. He even gave a little embarrassed smile and looked away, busying himself with a carousel of cheap romances. What is the impulse in us to take that innocence and ruin it irrevocably? I turned my attention back to the boy and girl in their own little world, but my mind was on that librarian. I knew he was watching the scene. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he envying them? Nervous? Had he done something like that? Had he actually been with a girl? It was like when I used to watch straight porn, and I realised I was fantasising about the men who watched it, as much or more so than the guys who were in it. Had he watched porn? Did he like a wank? How did he look when he came? The man and woman were aware of him watching now. They threw him little glances. I looked to see how he was taking it. My dick had dislodged the books permanently now so that they gave me no purchase. I was well hidden by a Romance carousel and some magazine shelving. Keeping everybody very carefully in view, and hoping the police weren't actually on their way (ex-colleagues! fuck!), I reached into my trackie bottoms and put my hand around my dick. I gave it a slow caress. My knobhead was a sticky mess of precum and sweat. I withdrew the hand and, not knowing what else to do with it, reached inside my vest and wiped it across my chest. I felt the print of my hand on my tit like a warm, glowing smear of UV paint. My dick was crying out for some more, but I decided to play it casual. I wanted to see what the librarian did. I actually saw him, thinking himself unobserved, reach into his chinos and rearrange his dick. Hard-on. Bingo. I watched him walk back, hard dick tucked away so that nobody knew it was there but me. All I wanted to do then was put a hand on his chest and say, 'Excuse me, lad, I've got reason to think you're sporting a hard-on in public. Come on, then, let the dog see the rabbit.' I didn't want sex at that point. I wanted to awake something in him. He walked into the scene, as if it wasn't happening. He'd obviously decided on a softly-softly approach. He began slowly putting away the books. He was so near me, I could smell the styling mousse in his hair. My dick asked me to take it in hand again, and this time I obliged. I wanked as slowly as I could force myself, looking back and forth from him to the couple, my hand sliding all the way up to my balls, drawing my foreskin right back from my throbbing, slobbery cockhead, then slowly sheathing it again hiding it in my first, squeezing it with my index finger, as the couple played up further and further to their new spectator, and he pretended more and more that they weren't there. The girl was licking the guy's cock through his jeans, when the boy obviously decided he'd had enough, but before he could confront them, he seemed to look to me for strength. I saw in him then, all the desire he was resisting, all the lust he was forcing down to the pit of his soul. I saw how far he wanted to go with a girl like her, and I thought how much further I could take him. I tried not to register any change in expression as I spunked hard into my fist. As the cum dribbled through my fingers, I watched the most bizarre scene. I can't quite bring myself to put it down on paper now. I wonder — why were they there; how come it was when this lad was on duty, this perfect mirror for their dirty goings-on. When it was all over, I did my bit and defended him to his manager. I mean, a kid like that, against a beast like that, he did what any of us would do. And after it was over, I went to the counter, my heart crashing in my chest, borrowing books that I've already forgotten the names of. 'Are you okay?' I asked him. He looked wounded. He shot me something like a glare. 'I'll be okay.' 'That prick deserves to be picked up,' I told him, 'and I'll tell you from my own extensive experience, it's only a matter of time before it happens.' 'I'd like to be there when it does,' he said. 'You'll need to fill out a form if you want to borrow books today.' My hand shook as I followed his instructions. I could smell the clean, soapy aroma of his body, and dried sweat in his clothes and hair too. 'You're stronger than him in all but the obvious way,' I told him, drinking in his slender, boyish physique. 'Thanks,' he said, and smiled. 'I've always thought that was enough.' 'For most people, it's more than enough,' I said. He let out a long sigh, looked at the form, looked up at me. 'Thanks very much, Stephan,' he said, and extended a hand for me to shake. It fitted into my palm and felt almost weightless. I decided he might be offended by a vigorous pump, so I just squeezed it and smiled, leaving the library without any of the books I had been due to borrow. My heart went out to him like a ray of light. But when it came to it, I let the whole scene play out like I was watching on a screen. Why didn't I step in? I've spent the last fifteen years breaking up fights and calming down tensions. Why didn't I intervene? I think I knew, deep down, that I couldn't involve myself in that, whatever it was. It was too hot, too perfect, for all concerned. It was important for all of us. I've cum three times again tonight thinking about it. And I keep trying to see things from the point of view of Beauty and the Beast and am just left with mystery. What's their game? What were they trying to unlock in that beautiful young man? And did they succeed?
  6. GlamRockCowboy

    The Resurrection of Richard Sandrak

    THE RESURRECTION OF RICHARD SANDRAK BY GLAMROCKCOWBOY (AUTHOR’S NOTE: Many of this Forum’s members will remember former “muscle kid” Richard Sandrak, better known to some as “Little Hercules.” It is now unfortunately well-known that his father forced the younger Sandrak to become a bodybuilder, even to the point of forcing his son to take steroid injections before he was even old enough to understand their effects upon him. Eventually, his father’s abuse of his wife forced young Richard to turn his father in to the authorities. He was subsequently tried, convicted, and imprisoned on a variety of criminal charges, including both child abuse and domestic violence. Upon completing his sentence, Richard’s father was summarily deported back to his native Russia, and forbidden to ever return to the United States. Today, neither Richard nor his mother have any contact whatever with the man who brutally forced him to “muscle up.” In fact, he has abandoned bodybuilding altogether. Today, he is a stunt double at Universal Studios in Hollywood. This story explores what MIGHT happen if Richard chose, of his own free will, to return to bodybuilding. I hope you find this story—which, let me emphasize, IS FICTION—to be both enjoyable and thought-provoking.) It had been an unusual day for Richard Sandrak. The 25-year-old stuntman had been called upon to re-visit a world he thought he had left behind forever—the world of bodybuilding. A number of unhappy memories had come flooding back to him as a result of a conversation he had had with one of Universal Studios’ casting directors—memories of steroid injections, forced workouts and dietary regimens, and—worst of all—verbal and physical abuse of his mother by his greedy, ambitious father, to such a point that Richard himself had been forced to call the police and have his father arrested. He had then been tried, convicted, and sentenced to imprisonment on a variety of charges, after which the elder Sandrak had been summarily deported back to his native Russia, and was now forever barred from ever re-turning to America. Needless to say, Richard’s mother had long since divorced her husband. Since his father’s deportation, Richard and his mother had both made a point of cutting off all contact with the man who had put them both through what could only be described as “Hell on Earth.” Today, however, had been different. On arriving at work for the day, Richard had been called into the office of one of Universal Studios’ most prominent casting directors. Much to his surprise, he had been informed that he was under consideration for a leading role in a new series of motion pictures. While the series was still in the early stages of development, the role would almost certainly require any actor portraying it to have a physique that was well-developed, to say the least. The director explained that Richard had been selected for consideration in view of his past “bodybuilding experience,” as the director had phrased it. Richard, however, was not interested, and he told the director so in no uncertain terms. In the process, he gave more details about his childhood experiences than he normally would have to a comparative stranger. He then abruptly terminated the interview and went home for the day, trembling in every limb. On reaching his apartment, he slammed the door shut behind him, locked it, then went to his bedroom, and fell to his knees beside his bed, crying hysterically. It was not until over an hour had passed that Richard was finally able to begin to pray about what had happened. He poured out his heart and soul to God, begging Him for guidance and help in making sense of it all, and, more importantly, what to do about it. Then, totally exhausted, both physically and emotionally, he climbed into bed, pulled the cover up to his chin, and fell into a deep, deep sleep. It was nearly four hours later that Richard finally rose from his bed, largely due to the insistent knocking he heard at his apartment door. When he opened it, a shamefaced casting director stood before him. “I’m sorry, Richard,” he began. “I honestly had no idea that you had been through that kind of abuse when you were growing up. Of course, I would never dream of asking you to go through anything like that again. What I had in mind was more of a natural, drug-free bodybuilding regimen, especially since there are any number of new supplements now on the market for bodybuilders. Even so, if you truly feel that something like this is not for you, we’ll respect your decision.” As Richard sighed with relief, the director put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Take the rest of the day off,” he advised, “think it over, and you can let us know of your decision when you come back in the morning. We’ll still have plenty of other work you can do, regardless.” Richard nodded his agreement, and the director left to return to his office. Closing the door, Richard went to his kitchen, where he had a couple of tuna sandwiches and a glass of milk for lunch. As he ate, he carefully considered the director’s words. He had long since forsworn ever using any form of drugs or steroids for athletic purposes again as long as he lived, and he had no intention of changing that decision. Still, the director was right about the availability of new supplements, some of which, Richard knew, had been, and still were, achieving remarkable results for a number of rising young athletes, including several whom he was personally acquainted with. He decided to talk the matter over with some of them, and see what they said, before he made a final decision. After lunch, Richard drove to a gym he knew was frequented by the young athletes he wanted to talk to. Without exception, they all assured him that there were a number of new supplements now on the market that were capable of helping him build his muscles back up as big as he could possibly want, without requiring the use of steroids. Among the most popular and potent of these were a group of supplements based on a plant with the scientific name of moringa oleifera, said by many nutritionists to be the single most nutrient-rich plant on the planet. The supplements utilizing this species had not been available when Richard was growing up, which was why he had never heard of them before. The next day, Richard drove back to work as usual. After checking in, he went to the casting director’s office to talk the matter over with him. The director was relieved to see that his young stuntman was in a far better frame of mind than he had been the day before. They discussed his situation and came up with a development plan that suited both of them right down to the ground. Richard would resume his bodybuilding regimen, but this time he would use only the moringa-based supplements he had heard about, which would be obtained for him by the studio. No steroids of any kind would be used. From the very start, Richard would be under the supervision of both a studio doctor and a licensed, certified personal trainer, both of whom would monitor his progress, and would either modify or call a halt to the regimen if either one felt it necessary. For his part, Richard would always retain the absolute right to call off the arrangement if he was not happy with the results. In the meantime, the development of the new series would continue, with Richard being the first on the list of candidates to be considered for a starring role. Until then, he would continue his stunt work, as well as a regular schedule of work-outs both at the studios and at the gym where he had first found out about the supplements. In order to obtain the best possible pricing, Richard would sign up as a distributor for the supplements in question, although the studio would actually pay for them, subject to the manufacturer’s approval. Once the details had been hammered out to Richard’s satisfaction, a formal contract was prepared be-tween Richard and Universal Studios for the development project. After it had been reviewed and approved by his manager and his lawyers, Richard and the director both signed the contract, and shook hands on the bargain. As Richard left the office, he actually felt himself tingling with excitement at the prospect of “muscling up” again. Unlike his previous bodybuilding experience, however, this time he was in control, rather than his father, and he would decide how big he wanted to get, rather than having his father constantly injecting him with steroids in an effort to accelerate and amplify his muscle growth beyond all reason, thereby risking potentially dangerous side effects that could damage his health for years to come. This time around, he would avoid using steroids or any other form of per-formance-enhancing drugs altogether. Instead, he would make exclusive use of food supplements which were designed and intended to improve his health overall, as well as help his muscles to grow to their fullest natural potential. With a feeling of mastery over his situation such as he had never had before, he headed for the gym to contact the young bodybuilder whom he had first spoken to about the moringa-based supplements and sign up under him to become a distributor. It would be up to the studio to conclude the remaining arrangements. Once the basic arrangements were firmly in place, Richard set about resuming his bodybuilding career. To his surprise and delight, his body responded to his new regimen with the most explosive muscle growth he had ever dreamed of. As his muscles grew bigger and stronger, Richard’s overall energy level went higher and higher. From the very start, his continuing efforts were recorded on film for use in the projected series, which Richard had readily agreed to. It took only a few weeks for the thick layer of fat he had allowed to accumulate over his muscles to melt away and disappear, leaving behind an increasingly impressive physique which soon progressed to a level that was awe-inspiring. It wasn’t long, in fact, before Richard was actively being urged by his training partners, and even his personal trainers, to at least consider actively competing for any of several different titles. Richard, however, was not entirely enthusiastic about such a scenario, due to the increased prospect of being manipulated into using drugs, to say nothing of the politics involved. He was greatly relieved when, after a frank and honest discussion of the issues involved, they agreed to back off on the idea. The studio made a point of filming these discussions, feeling that the public should be made aware of these issues and the pressures they brought to bear on today’s young bodybuilders. For his part, Richard gladly agreed. By the time six months had passed, Richard’s muscles had grown so big that his physique was being referred to as “just plain freaky.” The studio felt that he was more than ready to portray the character they had originally had in mind, and so, for that matter, did Richard himself. To his shock and bitter disappointment, however, an internal power struggle at Universal, over which neither Richard nor the director had any control, resulted in the abrupt cancellation of the development project altogether. Angered and embittered by the entire affair, the former “Little Hercules,” now big enough to be referred to as “Ultra-Mega-Maxi-SUPER Hercules,” resigned from Universal altogether, never to return. (By this time, he was earning more from his supplement sales and from personal appearances than he ever had at Universal anyway.) With his career as a stuntman now behind him, Richard concentrated his efforts on building up his supplement business and his physique. His muscles continued to grow bigger and bigger and bigger. In fact, his muscles grew bigger and faster now than they ever had before—and he actually loved it! One major reason was that he was now in full control of his career and his destiny, instead of his father or the studio dictating what he should do. As his muscles and his income continued to grow, Richard began dressing in outfits that were increasingly lavish. He subsequently bought his own gym, and a horse ranch as well, where, with the aid of qualified instructors, he taught young boys and girls, especially from underprivileged or abusive backgrounds, how to make use of bodybuilding to rebuild and reshape their destinies. In connection with his efforts, both Richard and his mother both participated in abuse counseling, as he was determined never to follow in his sire’s abusive footsteps. To top it all off, and to his great joy, Richard met, and later married, an extreme femuscle lady whose ideals and principles were identical to his own. Now entering his 30’s, Richard Sandrak was finally able to look forward to a happy and fulfilling life.
  7. So I started writing this on another site and was convinced to post it here too. It will not be everyone's cup of tea, but hey, I think it's hot! This story will not nearly be as long as my last either, which is fine by me. We'll get to the action much quicker. ************************************************ Chapter 1: Recruited I’ll never forget the first time I met Coach in person. It was February of my senior year of high school and I had just arrived home from my after school workout. As I walked in the door there he was, sitting at my kitchen table, chatting with my parents. I had exchanged a few emails and phone calls with him in the past couple of weeks, but to meet him in person was an especially exciting event. Not just because he was a local celebrity and one of the most sought after young college football coaches in the country, but because of the opportunities he brought with him. But first, let me back up. The previous Fall, I enjoyed a surprisingly successful football season, racking up several accolades and honors. All of a sudden I was soon receiving some recruiting interest from the smaller universities in our region. This was all very surreal to me as never in my life did I think I, Mason Jackson, was good enough to extend my football playing career past high school. Not only did I question my own skill, but I played of the smaller high school in our state, which don’t tend to get the type of exposure needed to get recruited to the bigger schools. Even then, I thought I was too small to play college ball, being only 5 ft 10 but a solid 175 lbs. Granted, I played defensive back, which are always the smallest guys on any football field. The position I play is out in the backfield, which is mostly open space. Primarily, my job is to keep the faster players from the offense from catching passes. So being smaller, faster, quicker and more agile was an advantage for my position compared to the big, lumbering beasts who played at the line of scrimmage. Regardless, thanks to my own high school coaches, my name had gotten out there for the college coaches to review. It was exciting to receive the attention I was getting even though it was mostly from smaller universities. Of course, my parents were thrilled that I now had a chance to attend a school on scholarship. Being a straight A-student, I was already in line for some financial assistance, but a full-ride athletic scholarship was not something I was going to squander. But no offer was more exciting than the one I received for Biltoft University. Bilthoft University was the major college in our area of the state. It was located in a college town about 50 miles from my home. It was a smaller major, private university that was heavily invested in academics. Over the decades it had built up a reputation as being one of the top academic universities outside of the Ivy League. Of course, being our local university, I had grown up following all the Biltoft sports teams, along with the majority of my family and friends. The men's sports teams were known as the Brutes. The Bilthoft Brutes. While most of Brute teams experienced average levels of success, for most of my life the Brute football program had a sad existence. Apparently, the football team was quite good for about a 15-year era in the 60’s and 70’s but then went into a dark period for about three decades. During this time it was common for the team to only win two or three games per year and there were even a couple of winless seasons in that mix. During this period, the university powers-that-be invested very little into the success of the football program. Most of the school's resources were directed o expanding the academic profile of the school. At its heart, being an institute of learning, this certainly wasn't a bad thing and it contributed geatly to the school's academic profile. With this philosphy, Biltoft had even become one of the top universities in the world for its research in particle and quantum physics. So, while no one could really argue that a school shouldn’t spend most of its money on academics, it wasn't being realized that a lot of extra potential revenue was being missed that even a mediocre football program can generate. Revenue that could then be used for both athletic and academic improvements. So, as a result the football program languished for nearly three decades. Since Bilthoft was so heavily focused on academics, many of the football players recruited during this time were, well, nerds as well. Basically the university took in any smart high school football players they could get, regardless of skill level. For three decades the school's mascot was never more ironic. The Brutes, the hulking, muscular mascot betrayed the frail and weak (by college football standards) players on the Brute football team. During this time the university's squad picked up a derisive nickname, the “Bilthoft Boobs.” Although no one knew it at the time, the future of the school would forever change in the late 90’s when it recruited a tall, wiry, hardworking local linebacker named Mitchell Wood. Like most of the school's recruits at that time, young Mitch was virtually unknown. Mitch Wood's main intention was to attend Bilthoft for a biochemistry degree. He was of course, very intelligent, 4.0 GPA, valedictorian of his class you name it. He was a good player in high school, but did nothing that would indicate the star player he would develop into. After his college career, in various interviews Mr. Wood would talk about how most of his success could be traced back to when he really discovered the weight room his freshmen year. As he progressed through his four years at Bilthoft he lifted intensely and developed into one of he best defensive players not only in the school's history, but in the entire country. His startling physical development, combined with his impeccable intelligence, helped him become a beast on and off the football field. He set many of the Brute defensive and weightlifting records and still holds many of those records even to this day. There was even talk that, if he had been on a better football team, he could have been a contender for the Heisman trophy. By his junior year, he had NFL scouts chomping a the bits to draft him. The star Brute player had even led the team to its first bowl game appearance in 21 years. But, alas, halfway through his senior, Mitch Wood was felled by the all to common ACL injury. He still could potentially have rehabbed himself in time for that year's NFL draft and that was his original plan. However, he fell in love with the idea of coaching while sidelined with injury. He elected to forego the draft to the disappointment of many agents and finish out his college career to get his biochemistry degree, which he did that spring. The following year Mitchell Wood took a position at a local high school teaching chemistry and, of course, coaching the school's football team. His impact was immediate. His teams continuously improved and in just a few short years developed a new high school dynasty, even winning multiple state championships. Back at the University, soon after his time at Bilthoft had ended, Mr. Wood's impact was still being felt. Having had one of the the best players on the country leading the team to even moderate success had begun to weigh on the university's board. The younger members of the board began to realize how a successful athletics program can actually compliment the school's academic profile and not hinder it. The new revenue that Mr. Wood helped generate was a catalyst that began to weigh on the minds of the board. It was just a couple of years after Mr. Wood had left that program began to regress again and so the board decided to take action. They fired the football coach in search of a new direction. Of course, still being a relatively low-tier football program, the school knew they would not be able to bring in any high profile coaches. Thus, they decided to take a risk and hired Mitchell Wood, the formal Brute star and high school coaching phenom, to be the new coach at the tender age of 27. Coach Wood was absolutely thrilled to take over the position at his alma-mater and graciously accepted. Much like his high school teams, he quickly turned the Brute football program around. As a man hugely into weightlifting, he immediately revamped the team's strength and conditioning program. He was unusual in college football in that he assumed the shared role of head coach and also strength and conditioning coach. Very soon the brainy jocks on the field began to look bigger, faster, stronger and harder. After a 1-11 season the year before, Coach Wood led his first collegiate team to a 7-5 season and its first bowl game since he played. It was a stunning turnaround for modern college football. In just one year the average weight of a Brute football player increased by a full 25 lbs of solid muscle! It wasn't long before the school lost it's derisive moniker and soon the players were being known as the “Built Brutes”, a fun play on words that perfectly reflected the physiques underneath the Brute jerseys. His second season the team went 9-4, earning the school's first top 25 ranking in four decades. The third season they played for a conference championship and in his fourth season the Brute football program brought back its first conference championship trophy in FIVE decades! His stratospheric rise then led his teams to back-to-back 11-2 season and top 10 rankings. Unsurprisingly, with his meteoric rise to success many of the historic powerhouse football schools clamored to hire him away from Bilthoft. But, every year coach rebuffed their offers, saying he owed everything to the Brutes and that the now 33-year old coach was happy to build a new powerhouse football program, further endearing himself to the Bilthoft institutional family. What was even more surprising regarding the team's success was that Coach Wood kept with the schools proclivity to recruit the most intelligent players to maintain the school's high academic status. With the recent success on the field, the athletic profile of the average Brute recruit rose as well, but Coach had a knack for finding diamonds in the rough. The highly intelligent, but ultimately undeveloped players for which he considered himself to be when we first recruited out of high school. And so, this philosophy led Mitchell Wood to my kitchen table one winter day. He saw me walk into the kitchen and I immediately froze in star-struck awe. Even though I had been exchanging messages with him I had no idea he was coming to my house. He stood up and up and turned to face me and offered his hand in greeting. “It's nice to meet you, Mason.” Other than his celebrity, the man was simply overwhelming. From seeing him on TV I knew he was a big, burly man. But seeing him in person really illustrated that point. He had to be 6 ft 5 in, maybe 6 ft 6 in tall. He must've had a late growth spurt because I thought he was listed as a couple of inches shorter during his playing days. The other thing that astounded me was his muscularity. He was not just big like many ex players, he was still very buff! I knew he was a seriously lifter from researching his history once he started contacting me. I had found out that he had even competed in some amateur bodybuilding contests back when he was just out of college. With some internet digging you can even find a few photos of him flexing up on stage from about a decade ago, looking huge, jacked, tanned and shredded. But now, the man in front of me was even bigger and more powerful than the young man in those photos. He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt (the team's colors) with the Brute logo, a “B” with two cartoon biceps flexing on each side, plastered over his overdeveloped chest muscles. The tight blue polo was tucked into tan khaki slacks which were also tight due to his muscled glutes, quads and hamstrings. Not to mention that he seemed to be very well developed in the crotch as well. The man seemed to have it all. He had hugely muscular arms with a pencil thick cephalic vein running over his biceps and vascular forearms. It looked like with one accidental flex he would burst the seams of his polo. He was in fantastic shape. He had the type of build that suggested he could still compete in bodybuilding with just a few weeks of dieting and conditioning. His head was topped off with matching white baseball cap, his signature accessory, also with the Brute logo on the front. Being straight, I still couldn't deny that he was an amazingly handsome man with a rugged visage and chiseled jawline. He had a dark fu-manchu mustache which complimented the deep dark brown sideburns that stretched down from under his hat, framing his face. The fu-manchu added to his intimidating presence, but once he smiled warmly and shook my hand, I saw there was no reason to fear. “Nice to meet you, Mason. I'm Mitchell Wood, but I hope you'll call me 'Coach'”. I shook his huge hand which seemed to swallow up my own. I could feel the scratchy callouses on his palm, no doubt built up from years of gripping the knurling on weightlifting bars. His voice suited him perfectly, it was deep, rumbling and masculine. “It's nice to meet you Mr. Wood,” I began. “I'm a bit surprised you have expressed so much interest in me.” He chuckled down at me and gave me another friendly smile. “I see you are modest too. I have been watching your high school tapes and I am very impressed. You were a special player to your team, a great on-field leader. I fully believe I can help you develop that and that you would be a great asset to our program.” He was very charming too. This guy was the complete package, the perfect man. “Son, I am here to formally offer you a invitation to play for the Bilthoft Brutes.” I committed to play for the Brutes right there on the spot. *********************************************************** Chapter 2: A New Season I was seated in a large room with about 75 of my football playing peers early the following August. It was still three weeks before school officially began but the athletic teams were allowed to move onto campus early for practices. The room was abuzz with excitement as we waited. Finally, the coaches began walking in and stood at the front of the room. Coach Wood, stood front and center wearing what I would soon discover was his trademark outfit. On his feet he was wearing large white sneakers. Even from afar I could tell he had very big feet, I'm guessing at least size 15. The bottoms of his legs were covered with white athletic tube socks. The socks came up to encircle to the largest diameter of his massive, protruding calf muscles. Traveling up from his calves his muscularity and pulchritude became more and more evident. The lower half of his exposed, striated legs were covered by thin dark hair. Above his knees coach's quadriceps exploded outward in relief, the heavy muscle of his thighs so large that they threatened to cover up his kneecaps. This was clearly a man that had focused on squats and deadlifts to build up those tree trunk legs. A few inches higher coach was wearing mid-thigh length khaki shorts. I suspected the reason coach opted for short khakis was as utilitarian as it was aesthetic. The short shorts allowed his massive legs the freedom to move with causing much chafing, but it also gave his adoring fans a chance to ogle some of the beefiest legs you can imagine. Upward still, the legs of the shorts joined at the crotch where a sizable bulge was unmistakable. Coach was certainly a man whose large stature was in proportion everywhere. Above the shorts Coach was in his typical shirt. A tight, light grey, light fabric t-shirt that had “COACH” printed on the front chest in large block letters. His heaving pectorals were so large that the middle of the shirt was sucked into his muscled cleavage, thus slightly distorting the word “COACH”. Hanging just in front of those beefy muscle pillows was Coach's whistle, the noise of which we would soon become well acquainted to. Due to his tremendous bulk, the t-shirt was tight everywhere else too. Well, except at his waist. Our new coach obviously made an effort to keep his bodyfat relatively low. Further up, on the sides of his chest and under his arms his lat muscles pulled the fabric outward whenever he extended his arms or stood with his fists on his hips. Even further up, you couldn't help to be amazed at his arms. We all knew coach was a bodybuilder in his former years and his arms certainly led credence to that fact. They were enormous and sinewy, each with that large cephalic vein prominently sticking out over his unflexed arms. And you certainly couldn't ignore the huge meaty mass of his triceps hanging from the bottom of his arm, adding to his arms' intense size. I longed to see what his arms looked like when flexing. On top of his chest stood his fire-hydrant neck, framed by two huge triangular trapezoid muscles. On top of his neck sat his amazingly handsome, rugged face with his classic fu-manchu mustache and matching side burns. Completing the outfit he wore a white ball cap with a large blue “B” with two flexing arms, the logo for our Brute football program. As we settled down Coach began to speak. “Men, welcome to another year at Bilthoft! I look around this room and I see champions. Some of you may still be champions are in the making, but you all have what it takes to succeed. ARE YOU READY FOR A NEW SEASON!” The room erupted in hoots and hollers from all the players, the room was buzzing with competitive testosterone. The coach raised his hands to silence his players and then went down the line and introduced us all to the various position coaches. In general, each player would only be working with one or two of these position coaches plus the head coach during practices. “Ok boys, head to the locker and suit up for our first practice!” One of the seniors sitting in the front row piped up before anybody moved. “YO, COACH! YOU GOTTA SHOW THE NEW GUYS!” Coach grinned at the senior lineman who had addressed them. “Show them what, Jamal?” “C'mon Coach. Every year you end the first meeting showing us those huge GUNS of yours! It looks like you've been lifting even harder since spring practice ended. IT'S TRADITION, COACH!” Laughs and snickers could be heard throughout the room. Coach and his assistants were chuckling too. It was easy to tell why everybody loved Coach. Off the field he was a very easy going, playful, charming, and endeared himself to almost anybody he met. “Well, Jamal, I upped my caloric intake in the past couple of months and switched my lifting routine around a bit to see if I could put on some more mass. You guys have all been getting bigger so I decided I needed to put on some size too. Need to you keep you fella's in your place, haha.” Coach began bending and unbending his arms at his sides, smirking at Jamal as he spoke. “I've put a solid inch on these pythons, can yo believe that?” “Shit yeah Coach! You are looking monstrous. C'mon show 'em to us. You've got the ball cap with the flexing arms, all us upper-classmen consider your first meeting flex to be the real start to the football season!” Sheepishly, Coach replied, “Well, I don't know, Jamal, maybe we need a new tradition...” The room noise began to grow as the players protested playfully. Coach was toying with us all and we knew it. Catcalls, whistles and claps poured out from the crowd of jacked up young men: “Show us, Coach!” “Let's see it.” “I don't think your arms are any bigger!” “Flex 'em big guy!” Coach chuckled at looked at the ground with his hands on his hips. He loved that his huge powerful body was such a motivator for his players. "Well, boys, let's go suit up and have a great practice. I think this is going to be a special year. Work hard out there on the field, lift hard in the gym, study hard in the classroom and big things will come, and do you know why, boys?... … BECAUSE WE ARE THE BILTHOFT BRUTES!” Coach suddenly raised both arms into a herculean double-biceps pose. The enormous mass of his biceps exploded upward seriously testing the fabric of his tight, grey t-shirt sleeves. The huge hamlike muscles of his triceps simultaneously pulled the shirt downward, filling the tortured sleeves with pounds and pounds of muscle. His biceps were freaky! They looked like they belonged on a champion pro-bodybuilder, the peaks were amazing! The room exploded in a masculine frenzy of cheers as we all admired our colossally buff coach and also hyped ourselves up for our first practice. Coach finally lowered his arms, “OK boys, time for practice!” As we dressed for practice the upper classmen couldn't stop talking about coach. “Holy cow, bro! His arms were HUGE! He's always been jacked but I can't believe he put on even more muscle since we last saw him.” “Shit, bros, I hope he trains us like he trained himself, I would love to put on some more beef too!” I knew Coach was big and buff, but the last time I saw him in person he was in slacks and a polo shirt. Of course, I didn't see him flex when he recruited me so I didn't have much to judge by. I took my teammates at their word that coach was even bigger now. That first week of practice was one of the hardest weeks of my life. Coach worked our asses off. Even though he was so huge and intimidating and could've easily used fear to whip us into shape, he was such a great motivator that the thought of disappointing him was enough to make us give him 110%. Of course, that didn't stop him from yelling like a terrifying beast when he was displeased. But, there was never any threat of physical violence, he truly was like our huge, intense football father out there on the field. In the afternoons we would lift weights with our team unit. That is, for me, I lifted with all the other defensive backs. As coach was the strength coach as well, we was right there with us to teach us proper technique and push us to lift heavier and heavier weights. Since the outdoor practice in the hot summer sun usually left his grey t-shirt soaked with sweat and clinging to his lumpy muscles, he usually changed into a sleeveless shirt for the lifting session. This of course fully exposed those ENORMOUS arms. Once we were done lifting, the seniors again couldn't help egging him on about his huge pythons. Matt, the starting senior safety and captain of the defensive backs, always seemed to be the instigator of our group. “Damn, coach! How big did you get over the summer?” he asked. Coach just laughed at his players. Since the defensive backs were the smallest guys on the team, Coach towered over all of us and was also far more muscular. “Oh, Matt, about the same size, I guess, haha. 6 ft 6, just like always!” Coach teased. “Ah, C'mon coach you know what I mean. How much do you weigh now big man?” Now that our lifting session was over we gathered around to hear Coach out. “Well, Matt, let's go see.” We followed him over to the electronic scale that was in the corner of the weight room. Coach stepped up on it and we all watched the small screen as the numbers were calculated. “Well, little men, it looks like I'm up to 305 pounds!” “DAMN COACH! YOU ARE A FUCKING MONSTER!” Coached just stepped off the scale and looked down at us proudly. “That's what, another 25 lbs since last winter, right?” Matt asked. “Yep, Matt. I told you this new routine has really been helping me grow. It's the same routine I got all you on right now, so I expect the same result from all of you! I want to see all of you put on 25 lbs by the end of the season, GOT IT BOYS?” “YES SIR!” We all shouted in unison. However, Matt still wasn't satisfied. “Hey, Coach one more thing, you said you put a solid inch on those canons, how big are they now?” Coach just chuckled down as his senior captain. “Bigger than yours, Matty. Bigger than yours.” Matt, however, knew just how to play to Coach's competitive side. “Yeah I figured they gotta be like 20 inches or so. I mean, they didn't look very big last winter.” Coach smirked and stepped right up to Matt, who, at 5 ft 11, only came up to Coach's chin. “You think these monsters are only 20's?” “Yeah Coach, can't be that big, haha. Maybe 21s, but surely no more,” Matt grinned back. Coach chuckled and walked over to a bench press station that still had 225 lbs loaded on the bar. He grabbed the bar and quickly performed ten perfect barbell curls and set the bar down. He made it look like he may as well have been curling a broomstick. The peaks up his arms exploded in size as he curled a weight that many of us struggled to bench press, pumping them and filling them with nutrient rich blood. “Hey, Jackson,” Coach turned to look right at me. “Why don't you grab that tape measure hanging by the scale and we'll see how good a judge of size Matt here is.” Since I was closest to the scale, I turned and saw the tape measure that he was referring to hanging on the wall. I grabbed it walked over to Coach. “Why don't we measure Matt's guns here first.” Matt laughed. He was one of those cool, relaxed guys who had virtually no shame so he cheerfully stepped up to the plate. “Sure, Coach, but don't feel sorry when my huge guns make yours look like pipe-cleaners!” I walked up to Matt and he raised his right arm, gritted his teeth and flexed his bicep as hard as he could. I wrapped the tape around his arm, which for his size was quite impressive. I announced the number as 16.5 inches. Certainly not huge, but he had very little fat so it was a solid measurement. Coach patted him on the back. “Not to shabby Matt. Nice job. Ok, Jackson, why don't you do the honors and measure this little pipe-cleaner right here.” Coach stepped up to me and FLEXED his enormous arm right in front of the me. Gasps and whispers emanated from the other defensive backs as we watched the huge lump of muscle surge upward. I froze for a second, partially in fear and partially from awe, before stepping up to Coach with the tape. I placed one end of the tape on the very peak on his biceps and held it with my finger. It felt like pressing on warm granite. His arm was so huge that my hands looked like a toddlers as I wrapped a tape around his arms. I pulled the tape tight and read the result. “Just a hair under 24 inches.” “HOLY SHIT COACH!” Another stunned teammate shouted. “Those are like, pro-bodybuilder size arms! And your arms aren't fat, they're fucking jacked!” Coach dropped his arm and stood up proudly in front his players. “Well, Matt, it looks like you need to do a few more curls before you can match these babies! But, seriously, gentlemen, great lifting session today. Now after you shower make sure you head to cafeteria to refuel your spent muscles, otherwise you won't grow. Then rest up and we'll see you all tomorrow. Great job my little Brutes!” During that first week on campus it also became apparent just how popular Coach was outside of the athletic department. We all knew he was a smart guy and he could often be seen eating lunch with the scientists in the physics laboratory. It was quite a site to see, this huge, herculean man eating lunch with short, skinny, nerdy looking scientists. And they genuinely all got along. One time when I was in physics lab I overheard him speaking with this scientist friends and he was able to converse with them even at their own level of quantum physics technobabble, language that went right over my head. At that moment it really sank in just how intelligent Coach really was. About a week before our first game something happened on campus that would forever change the dynamic of Bilthoft University. School had just started and so campus was now full of students. While I was sleeping in my dorm on Monday morning my room suddenly rattled. At first I thought it was an earthquake but then I remembered those are quite rare here in the midwest. About 15 minutes later my phone buzzed with an automatic text message from the university: [Students. There has been a minor explosion at the physics lab. The University is still investigating but thankfully we do not believe there have been any major injuries. Please stay away from the physics lab as we continue to investigate and clean up.] Of course, as soon as I read this I ran outside, as did most of my dorm mates, and walked over the physics building. The campus police had already ran some yellow tape around the building and were keeping us all at a safe distance. We could see there seemed to be a small blowout of one of the outer brick walls and fireman were milling about. We soon realized that, as the message had stated, it seemed like true disaster had been diverted. That afternoon I received another automatic text message from the football coach's account, telling us to meet in the team meeting room before practice today. The team filled in the small auditorium, wondering what the occasion might be. The offensive coordinator, Assistant coach Harvey, an older 45 year old man, walked into the middle of the room. We were all wondering where the head coach was. “Gentlemen, I have some unfortunate news. Now, before I set you in panic, know that Coach Wood is doing well. Unfortunately, he was in the physic lab this morning when the explosion occurred. I don't have all the details, but the scientists and the doctors have been monitoring his condition as a precaution. I have been told that there is no reason to worry at this point. As such he will not be at practice today. I will be leading practice. I want you all to work harder than ever had to make Coach proud when he hopefully returns tomorrow.” All the players took that to heart and we really did try our best at practice. But, there certainly was a bit of somberness among the entire team. We couldn't help but feel at least a little bit worried about our beloved Coach's condition. Of course, for the rest of the day, the local news media was all over the story and had gotten wind that coach was involved. As the speculation ran rampant, it certainly didn't help with our anxieties. The following day my roommate, also on the football team as a wide receiver, and I went to class still wondering about the fate of our coach. Later in the morning we received another team message: [Practice will begin at it's normal time. Coach Wood is doing well and will be in attendance] Instantly we all felt better and looked forward to having Coach back on the field with us. No doubt we were all curious as to just what happened in the physics lab, as the details from the local news was still spotty. Later that afternoon the team had gathered in the locker room to change into our practice gear. I was chatting happily with my defensive back buddies, talking about how we couldn't wait to see Coach. We were speculating if we was even going to be able to participate or if he was just going to watch while he recovered from his injuries. Facing my locker, I had just pulled up my jockstrap and football pants when the locker room grew quiet. Suddenly I felt a large presence near me. This was not uncommon, as many of the guys on the team were in excess of 6 ft 5 and 300 lbs, but this felt different. I turned to look at my locker neighbor, Derrick, “Yo, Derrick, why is everyone so quite all of a sudden?” I glanced at his face a saw his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, staring upward at something behind me. I slowly turned around and saw one of the most incredible sights of my life. There was Coach, standing a couple of feet behind me, in the middle of the locker room. He had his hands on his hips, with his elbows flared out in that quintessential superman pose. Coach was...big. I mean, even bigger than he was before. WAY BIGGER. I now understood why the room was silent. Coach allowed us all to take him in...and there was A LOT to take in. He had a cocky smirk on his face as he looked out around the locker room and saw all his players staring way up at him. Since he was standing right near me I took note of the true size of this man. I was standing straight up and noticed that my eyes were just about even with the waistband of his khaki shorts! Coach has GROWN! That meant that his legs alone were now almost as tall as I was! And Coach had of course retained his immense musculature. At his new size he probably now had more muscle in one of these meaty thighs than my entire body! My eyes followed his torso upward. He was wearing his typical tight coach shirt, tucked into the relatively small waistband on his coach shorts. From my vantage point down below I could actually see the underside of his heaving, fabric covered pectorals. His flared elbows and monstrous arms we now well above my head as well. I actually had to step back just slightly to see his face, which at close range was obscured by his muscled chest. Finally my eyes gazed upon his ruggedly handsome face and ballcap covered head. I noticed his head was right near the light fixture hanging from the high ceiling. He was a towering colossus of dense muscle. Being this close to him I had never felt so small in my life. A shocked murmer began to roll through the locker room as the players began to regain their speech functions. I heard several shocked phrases from my teammates: “Holy Shit!” “He's fucking HUGE!” “Look at the size of his arms! His chest is massive!” Finally Coach spoke, “Gentlemen, once you are dressed, please meet me in the auditorium for a quick team meeting!” With his new size his already deep rumbling voice was even lower. You could practically feel his voice vibrating in your chest. After he spoke he slowly turned and sauntered out of the locker room, having to hunch over to exit out the 8 ft tall doors, leaving his stunned team behind to finish dressing. Once he was gone Derrick and I shared a look. He spoke first, “Holy shit, Bro! Coach was already a big guy, now he's a GIANT!” The entire team quickly dressed and we made our way into the team meeting room. Coach was standing up front, dwarfing the assistant coaches. One we had all filed in coach spoke up. “Gentlemen, as you know, yesterday there was incident at the physics lab. Dr. Martin, the quantum physics researcher was showing me around the lab when we both heard a lout explosion. The next thing I know this weird green energy beam is blasting me right in the chest and rubble is all around me. Dr. Martin thankfully was able to quickly shut off the energy beam generator. Dr. Martin and the fireman rushed me to the hospital just to make sure I was ok while the fire department cleaned up the destruction. While at the hospital it became apparently that my clothes and I were, well, growing. Once my growth had stabilized the docs checked me out and allowed me to head home. Dr. Martin is going to continue to monitor me to make sure there are no adverse reactions to the that quantum laser beam that blasted me so there is no reason for further worry. Men, I am still your Coach, I'm just a bit bigger now.” One of the senior lineman couldn't resist replying. “A bit bigger, Coach? You are a GIANT!” The room erupted in laughter, and the coach just smiled handsomely. “How tall are you now?” “Haha, you lineman are always so obsessed with stats. Well, little men, as of last night your big coach was measured at 9 ft 10 in tall!” Coach proudly puffed up with massive chest as he announced his new stat. He obviously was enjoying his new stature as much as we were. The lineman couldn't contain his awe. “DAMN COACH! You gotta show us, Coach.” “Show you what?” Coach cockily grinned. The lineman replied, “C'mon Coach! You know what we want to see. Especially at your new size. Let's see 'em!” My teammates were now hooting and hollering up to our leader, showering him with encouragement. The giant man at the front of the room gave us a sheepishly look. “Alright men, let's go out there and have a great practice today. Work your little asses off, give me everything you've got. WE ARE THE BILTHOFF BRUTES!” Coach quickly brought up with arms into the most gargantuam double-biceps pose in the world. The sleeves of his strained shirt retreated upwards into the gap between the peaks of the muscle and his boulder like deltoids. At his new size his there was no doubt he had the biggest, buffest arms on the planet. We knew it was going to be a great practice. ************************************************ Hope you like!
  8. YungFrancis

    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?
  9. dredlifter

    The Giant Football Coach - Chapter 4

    Previously https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ 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.” “Uh...um...sure, 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. “Coach...you...you...you'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!” **********************************************
  10. Chapter one is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13085-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake/ Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13095-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-two/ 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: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13116-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-four/
  11. Chapter one is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13085-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake/ 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: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13105-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-three/
  12. 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
  13. 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.
  14. 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.
  15. 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 cement...it 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."
  16. ‘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…..you 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: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7485-how-to-change-your-life-through-muscle-therapy-part-2-of-2/ Check out the first three parts of A Most Muscular Year: Christmas Surprise: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7025-a-most-muscular-year-starts-with-a-christmas-surprise-part-1-of-7/ New Beginnings: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7160-a-most-muscular-year-leads-to-new-beginnings-part-2-of-7/ Progression to Sex: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7264-a-most-muscular-year-sometimes-progresses-to-sex-part-3-of-7/
  17. Hialmar

    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: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/10523-the-security-squad-part-2/
  18. 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?”
  19. 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.
  20. arbotimus

    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. Part IV
  21. 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: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6460-dont-stop-parts-1-3/ Parts 4+5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6569-dont-stop-parts-45/ 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.
  22. Newmassaddict

    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?!
  23. 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.
  24. 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.
  25. 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.”
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