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  1. arbotimus

    growth-with-effort Change

    This is a one-shot, written in a slightly different style than I am used to. Theoretically you should be able to skip around if you are not one for much exposition. Comments and suggestions are always appreciated. The inside of my cubicle is cluttered as usual, full of unfinished work that is all marked “urgent”. It is always urgent. The fluorescent lights above worsen my headache. I pull out another paper from the pile. It is endless. Day in, day out, computer, paper, and me, sitting alone in this tiny island. I can feel the folds of my belly run over my belt, resting in my lap. My sleeves and the legs of my khakis are loose, my thin arms and legs barely filling up the hollow spaces. My back hunches over my desk, my thinning hair wafted by the fan I keep on my desk. It is difficult to think that I am already forty, that so much time has passed by in this small, cluttered space with so little to show. Finally the clock strikes six, and I am free to leave. My desk is no less cluttered than it was earlier today. Papers come in as fast as they go out. But at least I am busy. There is something to do, which is better than nothing. Bubble gum for the mind, and a paycheck to follow. -- It is winter, and by the time I get home it is already dark. My apartment is dimly lit, as usual. That is the way Pavel likes it, and I don’t mind either way. He is already home. His drive shorter than mine, but he is irate nonetheless. He is usually that way, “stereotypically Russian” I used to joke with him. We have known each other for five years, and about a year ago we moved into an apartment together. I walk into the common room to find him watching TV and eating leftovers from yesterday. His double chin mirrors mine, and he has a stain from the food he is eating on his wife beater. He grunts at me. It is his usual way of acknowledging that I have arrived. His body slouches down in the arm rest. His body is just like mine, if not a little bit thicker. But his hair is still all there, his one proud feature. His meal rests on the TV tray, crumbs spilling as he lazily shuttles food into his mouth. He is not beautiful, but he is mine. -- I watch Pavel work his way to the bathroom from the bed we have just shared, the light harsh on his unflattering body. Sex with him is good, familiar. We do not have to try very hard. If neither one of us finishes, that is not abnormal. It is just good to be with someone. Finally he turns off the lights and his body is thrown into darkness. I like it better that way, imagining he is someone else. As I lay in bed, I think about my life and how I have gotten here. There is no one pivotal moment to look for, just a lifetime of settling for less and expecting nothing more. And now I am here. I vow that tomorrow will be the day that everything will change. And unlike every other time, it will be. -- John is a bit arrogant and not very good at paying attention. Well, I guess he can afford it. He looks like he has always been buff, blond, beautiful. Captain of the football team, homecoming king, something like that. Hard to relate to, in my current position. He wears a tank top, those kind that open to show his obliques and lats. Even just his arm resting on the machine is something to behold. Perhaps my perception of him is too harsh, colored by the intense pain that is coursing through my shoulders. He is looking at a woman running on the treadmill across the room. To be fair, she is beautiful. I would stare too, I think, if I were so inclined. “Come on Greg, one more! You’ve got this!” It did not feel that way. Even if he is not very good at paying attention, he at least goes through the motions. This is the first time I have been in a gym in twenty years, and John took his role as my new personal trainer very enthusiastically. Right into the deep end, no grace period. I struggle between breaths as I push out the last rep. I can feel the hollow space in my sleeves call attention to how small and weak my arms are, and the weight of my stomach reminds me of my age and how far I have to go. Sweat beads on my forehead and runs down my chin. My clothes are soaked, but we have barely even started. -- The first thing I notice is that it is not as difficult to get up and going in the morning. Despite how dreary I anticipate my days to be, my body no longer feels like a heavy stone that I have to drag around. Things are easier, lighter. My pants fit better, looser in the waist. Pavel does not appreciate my new candor, in or out of bed. My new energy is in stark contrast to his morose personality. It will grow on him, I hope. -- 180. That’s what the scale says. Only 10 pounds lost over the course of 3 months. But I know that I have lost more than that, and it has been exchanged for something better. I flexed my arm in the mirror. The slightest curvature of the bicep, a little furrow beneath to announce that it is separate from the rest of my arm. Progress. -- Protein shakes are the bane of my existence. John has changed my diet, little by little, and now I am a poster child for healthy eating. This is to Pavel’s protest. All protein, barely any fat or carbs, none of the fast food that we used to eat together. We start eating separate meals. It is hard, every day. I want to break very badly, especially with the temptation sitting right in front of me. I can feel the space filling in around my sleeves, in the legs of my pants. They are not hollow anymore. Suddenly the shake is not so bad. I swallow it, eagerly. -- I challenge someone to an arm wrestle at work, during our lunch hour. I don’t know what I am thinking, but he agrees. A small congregation gathers around us in the office. This is the most exciting thing that has happened here since the Jefferson account. Will is confident he can beat me, he is certainly much younger. I win. It is hardly even a contest. Just nine months ago I would have lost, and pathetically. My cock swells slightly from the rush. -- A woman a little younger than me turns her head at me as I walk to lunch. It feels pretty good. -- Sixteen and thirty-four. Arms and waist, respectively. My abs are palpable beneath my trimming stomach, my arms something to be proud of. I flex my calves and see the separate heads in the mirror. My shirts fit me well, and without even trying I am showing off. Even John is impressed at my progress over the last year. I go to the gym eagerly now, even when I don’t have a scheduled training session. It starts to feel good, almost, the burning in my body as I become something greater. I drop John soon after. He is not necessary anymore. -- I apply for a promotion at my job. With all of the supplements and supplies that I need, a pay raise is necessary. I get it. My boss notes my confidence when he is debriefing me after my interview. I think he notices my arms too, but he is too shy to say anything about it. -- It is around seventeen inches that I leave Pavel. I know because I am measuring my guns (I have taken to calling them that because, well, they are deserving of the title) when I see the both of us in the mirror. The juxtaposition seems wrong. We have been growing apart for a long time now. He is always at home, sedentary, static. I am not capable of that life anymore. I need to get out, to live, to lift. He is not surprised. It is relatively amicable. I start looking for a new apartment the next day. -- My old clothes just do not fit anymore, after two and a half years. I love the way they feel around my solid arms, hanging over my heavy chest as they fall into my thick muscle belly. My abs, strong, erect from the curvature of my stomach now form little creases in my clothes. My sleeves stretch every time I go to flex my guns and the body of my shirt stretches almost uncomfortably against my lats. My button-ups stopped being functional a long time ago. Now even my loosest exercise shirts have to go. I’m keeping my exercise shorts. They have fared a little better, although they have started to look like short shorts as my burgeoning quads and hamstrings have begun to push them up. That is okay with me. I don’t mind showing off their strength, or the thick heads of my calf muscles for anyone who wants to look. And most of them do. My dick throbs a little as I throw the last shirt in the trash. Out with the old and in with the new. -- Melinda flirts with me shamelessly now. She barely even took notice of me before. It is hard to blame her, though. Compared to the other guys at the office I stand out. I do not hide it, either. Even with my new outfits my body is visible through the fabric. I do not even have to try. I would never have known she was so lascivious. I barely even look at her. I think it turns her on more. -- It is hard to believe that I wore sleeves once. It feels so good, to walk down the street and have everyone stare your size. Nineteen and growing. My guns are my proudest feature. And the guys take note. I have been drowning in stares and offers for sex ever since I left Pavel and moved to the gay district. It has taken me a while to get used to it, but now it comes easy. I have not felt this level of arousal or pleasure since puberty, and it is compounded by my growing body. I can make them do whatever I want, too. They just want to be with me, even if I am a little on in years and they have to submit to my demands. They are not ever disappointed. -- I love to make my pecs bounce up and down. I love it even more when other guys watch. I find myself doing it in public when people stare at me for just a little too long. They turn their heads, but I know that my heaving pectorals have just caused a long-distance erection. -- I live for the burn anymore. That feeling that you get in your muscles when they are just about to give, but you don’t let them. You make them go until they stop, because you are the one with all the power. Strength incarnate. -- I see the young gays, out on the streets. Buff, tan, not a care in the world except who they are going to fuck next. I will never be like them. I am old, my prime has passed. My hair is almost gone on top, and my skin is rough despite years protected from the sun under the fluorescent bulbs. I take a breath. Air fills my lungs, chest heaving outward and filling up the tank top that barely contains them. I flex my guns, just to remind myself of how big they are. Twenty one. And growing, too. I will never be like them. I am bigger, better. -- I go to my old gym after seeing a friend for lunch nearby. John is there, giving enthusiastic words of encouragement to some out-of-shape housewife. I wait until she is gone and he begins his workout. He is working hard, methodical about every move. But I know I push harder than him, lift more. He has moved onto bench press. On his last rep I head over. He is struggling. “Need some help?” I say. He gawks at me, probably not understanding why I have interrupted him. “No thanks, I’m good.” I grab the weight with a single hand and pull it up for him. I grin, with just a hint of arrogance. He doesn’t recognize me. “Wow, you were having trouble lifting this?” I say casually. I put two more plates on each side without waiting for him to get up, and then motion for him to get out of the way. Ten reps. “Well that was easy,” I say. “Barely even a pump.” His face contorts, probably more from confusion than from shame. But I know deep down he is mulling over how I am outcompeting him so effortlessly. I relish in it. “Remember me?” I say, lifting my cannons up towards the ceiling. I flex them, unabashedly, as his face turns red. Speechless. I would be too if someone that big had challenged me. Twenty one and a half. John could never hope to be that big. -- I spend a day at the bathhouse. It is not a wholesome place, but I am a goliath now and it is a whole new world. All eyes fall on me. It is unavoidable. I walk with a bodybuilders strut, my arms hanging out past my sides because they cannot fall straight down anymore. My nipples, though, face almost directly down. They have nowhere else to look. The rest of my chest is bursting with ripped, heaving muscle. It is a struggle to see my feet anymore. Or my waist, either. Thirty two, and packed to the brim with abdominals that would not give to a bullet. I turn to walk through the door. I find myself doing that a lot now. My back is just too wide, too thick, too engorged with muscle to fit through most doorways without a little turning. The steam feels good, relaxing. I lifted heavy today. Heavy even for me. My whole body is spent, hard as a rock, still pulsing from the workout. I notice as a sit down that my quads are especially thick. They are as cut as they have ever been, but that does nothing to hide their mass. I don't hold my knees parallel to my waist anymore because my quads refuse to give in to one another. I toss my towel on my leg. My cock is free, but no one will be defiant enough to correct me. It takes me a while to notice the other man in the sauna. I tend to not take notice anymore, of the smaller ones. Even when they are enraptured. He is older, probably forty five. His graying hair tops a face lined with crows-feet and a flabby, uninteresting body. His towel covers his unsubtle erection. He reminds me of myself, from four years ago. We make eye contact. I flex my pecs first, slowly, both together. The crevice that forms between them can probably crush two or three of his little fingers. I let one down, and then proceed to bounce them, one at a time, slowly. Control is key. His gaze wanders down towards my chest, mesmerized. His expression does not change except for a vast hunger in his eyes. I lift my cannons up into the air and let them fire. It is almost against my will. My cock rises from the intensity of his stare. I know exactly what this is doing to him. How he feels. His inadequacy in my presence is only heightening his arousal. He is mine, heart and soul. I motion him to come over with my finger. He does. His hands start at my arms and then move down my abs and legs. They are soft, old. Like mine, all those years ago. Fuck, I was pathetic. He starts to move towards my dick, long and hard, throbbing. I grab his hand, careful not to grip his gentle arm too firmly. “You’re not worthy of that,” I say, letting it sink in. He cums, clumsily, and some of it gets on me. “Clean it up,” I command. And he does, obediently. -- I am enjoying my time at the nude beach. I am god, unquestionably. The sun beats down on my massive body for all the world to see. And they do, eagerly. I flex for them, a gift. Twenty two.
  2. Chapter 5 – The Recruitment of Gods. October 5th (Today): Sam smiled broadly at seeing the two massively thick men that stood up ahead. The anticipation in him was overwhelming. He had been waiting for months to see this day come. As he drove the patrol car closer, he was able to make out which one was his brother, Lloyd. He was so happy that Lloyd had completed his task as well; really well in fact as Steve was such an amazing specimen of his new self. The broken up cop car splashed through the white glowing puddles of liquid as if the clouds had just burst uncontrollably, only it had not rained in over a week. The intensely strong smell of sweat and sex in the air was so overpowering that with every breath Sam took in, his cock lengthened and rose up toward his chest. He looked over at his 2 hour old, new lover, Jake, who was fast asleep, resting from the incredible excursion that he had just gone through. Sam smiled even broader at the beauty of Jake. He remembered how only a few hours ago, everything was different since Jake and Steve hadn’t come into their own. He remembered when he himself first had the change and how much he wanted to have his partner by his side. He remembered how Uncle Matt had told him and his brother, Lloyd, that they were the ones who would bring the “New Breed” (as he called Jake and Steve) to life and begin a new colony. Both men were not only changed, but had become their lovers. He remembered all of Jake’s feelings and thoughts and all that he and Jake had gone through to get to this point. He looked at his watch…8:28pm…yep right on schedule. 6:14 pm, (the same night): It was just after dusk when Jake and Sam had pulled behind the bush-covered guardrail to set up their radar. Their little speed trap had become quite successful. Lately there had been a lot of traffic on the old country road of 35 mph that was going well over 50. The mayor and sheriff had ordered the speed trap in hopes that it would slow everyone down, by the quick word of mouth that always was around town. But to Jake it seemed that it wasn’t the town folk that were doing the speeding, it was only a few travelers. Most of the time, the partners would just sit there and talk about their lives. Every now and then they would get to pull someone over for speeding and Jake really enjoyed it when they would pull over a huge hulking man from that farm over the mountain and across the county line. Their body frames were enormous and positioned on bikes that could barely contain their massive weight. Jake loved pulling these huge men over and always would be semi hard, by the time that he would walk up to these gladiators of steel. Some of them would check out Jake’s own nicely worked out body and flirt with him. He loved their attention and he LOVED men that had huge thick muscular bodies. Lately he had been hitting the mother load; especially with his partner. March 4th (7 Months ago): Jake was new to the town and the job. He had moved from Louisville about 6 months ago. Right before moving, or rather part of the reasons for the move, his now ex-girlfriend left Jake for some trucker she had met at the diner she worked at. Thus, Jake had just graduated from the Louisville police academy and had seen that a position for a cop had opened up about 20 miles out of city, in the town of Flatbush. He also found only one apartment that was available in town. He immediately called for the apartment and talked to a guy named, Zach. Zach told him the place was only a small one bedroom place with not even a full kitchen, but Jake told him he’s take it. Then Jake called the station’s Captain to talk about the job. Without even much effort, Jake got the job. So he packed up his stuff and headed for a new adventure. Jake had always thought himself to be bisexual. He had had sex with guys and girls, sometimes at the same time, but he realized that they guys that he wanted always seemed to be huge and muscular. Even as a child, Jake had always felt a certain…closeness to bodybuilders and superhero types of men. Women were okay and basically were safe in a conservative town as Louisville was, but Jake always knew that huge muscle was what he desired. When Jake arrived in Flatbush, he noticed how everything was really neat and tidy in the town. He noticed that there was no trash in the streets and everyone there looked happy and healthy. Some actually looked “Really” healthy, like fitness models. No one seemed overweight and if they did look big, it wasn’t because they were fat. Everyone was very friendly and when Jake stopped at the local bank, he asked the teller if there were any places that he knew of where he could get a good workout. The teller told him that there was a gym in town, next to the barber shop and that is where most everyone went to stay fit. He also mentioned a farm on the outskirts of town, but that not many people went out there, since it was a little far out. When Jake arrived at the apartment building, which was above the gym, the teller told him about, he met the landlord, Zach at the door. Zach was a small skinny, pre-Captain America Steve Rogers type of guy. Even though he was small and thin, he looked very healthy and Jake couldn’t help notice the enormous bulge in Zach’s pants. Oddly, this stirred up Jake’s hormones. Zach had not only owned the apartments upstairs, but he owned the whole building, including the gym. They went into the apartment and it was perfect. Just the right size and it was just as neat and tidy as the rest of the town. Zach invited Jake to his place, down the hall for some coffee and they could go over rent and stuff. Zach and Jake talked about the rent and the town some, but then the conversation shifted to their personal lives and family. Jake told Zach about his ex and Zach said what a shit ass punk she was, which made them both laugh. Then Zach started talking about his family and he said that all he had left were two brothers. One of them had left the town and he thought that he was living out on a farm of one of his friends. The other brother, Sam, just happened to be one of the cops that Jake would be working with. The police force for the small town was very small itself as there wasn’t much going on in the town of Flatbush. But, that there always seemed to be a lot going out on the outskirts of town. After about an hour, Jake got the car and trailer unpacked and he was moved in within a few hours. That night, Jake had the most restful sleep that he could remember in a long time. The next morning he was to report to the station and start his new job. The first time Jake saw Sam, was at station when the captain introduced Jake to the officers in the department. There were only 15 total including the captain and Jake. Jake noticed, though, that he only counted 14; 12 guys and 2 girls. He also noticed that almost every male on the force looked as beefy as most men in the town, but none of them were huge, just built a little bigger than most, like a cop should be. That’s when another figure came into the building from outside. Jake’s mouth went dry, his knees went weak, and his cock started to involuntarily grow. Sam introduced himself in a low commanding voice and walked…no swaggered over to shake Jake’s hand. Sam smiled as he could see that Jake was visibly shaken by his size. Sam was all cop, with his jargon and lingo and the way he was so hyped up about “catching the bad guys”, but physically, he looked like he had played for a professional football team all his life. He stood a little less than 6’8” and was enormously proportioned. His whole body was thick and big. He looked like a cross between a Viking and Scottish Highland Strongman. When Sam and Jake met face to face…rather, face to chest, Jake could hardly think straight. Sam noticed Jake’s staring but to him it was only admiration in his new partner’s eyes, instead of the lust that Jake had felt. Being a straight guy, Sam took it was one Hell of a compliment coming from a good-looking guy, like Jake. Sam had a girlfriend that he loved and they had plans to get married. Even though he loved his fiancé, it didn’t stop Sam from being a chauvinistic jerk as he was always talking about how much she loved his super thick 10” cock ramming her wet pussy. When they were on patrol, just the two of them sitting in their cruiser, Sam would get as graphic as a porn novel telling Jake his escapades with Lucy. Jake could tell that Sam would also get turned on by his own stories. Sometimes as he talked about it, Jake would notice Sam’s huge pant snake start to burrow down his partners leg. Scared of Sam noticing his own impending 9”er making a pants tent, Jake would cover his lap with the ledger for the day. Then after every shift, he would go back to his apartment and beat his cock for hours imagining Sam’s huge body pressed against his and causing him to have some of the most powerful orgasms of his life. Lately, it was becoming almost a daily ritual and Jake really never thought about girls much anymore. It was beginning to be all about Sam. Jake and Sam had been partners for about 3 ½ months now and Jake was feeling his way with his new partner. He fantasized doing that literally, feeling all over Sam’s big muscular, thick body, but he knew Sam was homophobic, so he had to take it easy with any hints or allegations. Sam was always talking about how disgusted he’d get seeing two guys kiss. He said that he would never let some guy kiss him. He’d rough ‘em up good. Make them pay for being such a pansy. Once he talked about how he’d fuck the hell out of em, just to teach those “fags” a lesson. The idea of Sam fucking Jake to teach him a lesson, made Jake almost cum in his pants. As their time together on the job progressed through the months, Sam’s stories of the past chicks he had banged, plus his girlfriend’s ability to deep throat him and getting his cock so wet she never needed lube, seemed to get more intense, and more off the straight and narrow. Sam seemed to be getting turned on more and more every time he’d talk about it. At first it was all about the girl’s breasts and tight asses, but slowly the details of the girl’s bodies changed as it got less and less about their bodies, and more about how he loved watching his cock, seeing it growing and cumming in buckets when he was filling up the bitches. Once Jake thought he heard Sam almost cum in his pants, as he was really getting into it, talking about his muscles, body and cock so much that his breathing became heavier and heavier, till he seemed to moan under his breath. It was really dark in the car, that night, so Jake only was able to hear Sam, which actually made it worse for Jake, since he almost came himself at the lusty sounds of Sam right next to him. God, he wanted to touch his godlike partner, so bad, but he knew that it was impossible. August 5th: Then it happened, Sam came into work that day and he looked like something was on his mind, but he also looked relieved. As they were changing in the locker room to get ready for patrol, Sam told Jake that he left Lucy. He said that she wasn’t satisfying him like she used to and that he needed something…more. He said that after he told Lucy, she freaked out and went ballistic. He pulled down his pants to show Jake his thigh, where he said that Lucy had taken a salad fork and tried to stab him with it. Jake looked at where Sam said she stabbed him, but he didn’t see a mark. All he saw was the biggest most scrumptious thigh he had ever laid his eyes on. He asked Sam, where did she stab him and Sam quickly pulled his pants back up and said that she was such a weakling that she didn’t even give him a scratch. He said that for the past month he had been getting stronger and stronger and that he had no use for her pathetic ways. As a matter of fact, Jack thought that Sam actually did seem to be getting larger every day, growing from that thick mass to a chiseled muscle god. They both worked out together at Zach’s gym, but Sam seemed to take off like wildfire, getting all cut and growing even bigger, so much so, that it made his uniform skintight and strained the fabric to the point where you could see every nook, mound and crevasse of his tightly muscled frame. At the gym, there was a height tape against one of the walls and one day Sam happened to be standing next to it. Jake’s eyes bugged out as he saw that his partner was over 7’ tall and barefoot, nonetheless. In fact he was 7’ 3”. Most men increase their size slowly, but Sam was packing on 10-20 pounds every week. He had to get several new uniforms. This growth spurt started about a month before, after Sam went camping up in the mountains with his other brother and two of his buddies from out of town. Jake also noticed how different Sam acted around him since the camping trip. It was almost like he was flirting with Jake at times, but that was impossible, with Sam being such a homophobic dick. Jake had met Sam’s other brother, Lloyd and he was just a big as Sam was when they first met. Lloyd lived on a farm with a few of his friends. In the past month or so, Sam’s brother, Lloyd, seemed to be gaining a lot of mass too, as did their two buddies, Carlos and Penn, both of which were smaller than Jake a month and a half ago, but now they were visibly larger than him. All of them seemed extremely touchy-feely with each other as well. It was getting to be more than Jake could take. He wanted Sam so bad, that he started to bone up every time he saw the man. There were days that Jake would jerk off 2 or 3 times, just to get his hardon to go back down. September 20th: Then two weeks ago, the two of them were at their normal “speed trap” spot when Sam had an idea. He said that they should bust a bunch of those “fags” at the local rest area on the other side of town. He said he knew that men frequented that place a lot at night and there never seemed to be any chicks. The thing that was strange to Jake was that Sam was the one to come up with busting the place in the first place. Sam knew right where it was and what took place there, but Jake hadn’t ever heard of the spot being cruisy, much less had been there for some cock, himself. The only time Jake ever got sucked off in public was in the local Wal-Mart restroom. Sam seemed actually excited at the prospect of rounding up some “faggots”. At first Jake thought that maybe Sam had been propositioned there and wanted to get even, but he questioned that later, too. The two of them caught about 6 guys there, that were fucking and sucking, but as they were handcuffing them, 2 of the purps got away. Sam ran after them. Jake finished cuffing the other 4 and strangely he knew every one of the 6 guys, a couple were from the gym under his apartment. After Sam took off after the 2 escapees, Jake apologized to the other 4 and “accidentally” let the men go free. One of them was one of Jake’s best friends from the big city. He told the guys to stay away from there since the cops were on the hunt. The men thanked him and took off, leaving Jake alone. While he waited for Sam, he heard what sounded like trees snapping and the ground seemed to shake. Then there was the sound of what he thought were animals attacking the men, but it was over too quickly to warrant him to chase down the sounds. Still, Jake still was worried about his partner. So what if the guy was a muscle god, he could have still gotten in some type of trouble. He started to walk into the woods just as Sam started showed up with the two purps over his shoulders. Their pants were around their ankles and each had huge hard-ons with bodies that were all red and appeared swollen. Neither one looked upset, but rather content and satisfied. Their bodies were almost thick, which was strange since one of them, Joshua was the local barber and had always been quite thin. Jake saw Joshua, just about every day, since the barber shop was right next to his building. Sam set them down on the ground and without a word; both men pulled up their pants, gave Sam a strange look and freely got in the back of the patrol car. What shocked Jake even more was that Sam himself looked bigger, everywhere. His uniform was slightly torn and tearing more, since it was so extremely tight on him. The men had a fluid of some type that glistened in the moonlight, all over their faces and bodies and the inside of the car smelled like sweat and bleach. Sam told Jake that he had caught them in the act and that they put up a good fight but of course they were no match for him. Jake pointed at Sam’s crotch as he looked at his partner huge wet mound of fabric around his cock area. Sam replied, “Hey, since I dumped that bitch, I guess I need to get somewhere. Heh. Oh well.” Then Sam finally noticed something was missing and quickly changed the subject. “What happened to the other 4?” “Oh they got away. I guess I didn’t have them restrained as well as I thought?” “Oh well, at least I got two more of them for my trophy case.” Sam laughed hard and loud. “Yeah, I guess so? Bet you want to mount em, huh?” Sam threw Jake an evil look that told him to take that back. “I’m sorry dude, I was just kidding.” “No harm, let’s get these two back to the station.” Both men got in the car and Jake suffered a massive hard on the whole way, smelling the mixture of sweat and what he now realized was cum. The rest of the night was surprisingly uneventful and Sam kept pretty much to himself, which certainly wasn’t like him. After the two were released from jail, Jake never saw them again. It was if they had just disappeared. That was only two weeks ago. 6:14pm, October 5th (Today): Tonight though, just like clockwork, they had set up their speed trap and were anxiously waiting the night’s “kill” as Sam would call it. Strangely though, they hadn’t seen a car for over an hour. The only passing vehicle was a pickup truck that had Sam’s brother Lloyd, driving and a kid in the passenger seat that Jake thought he recognized but wasn’t really sure about. Still there was something about the young kid that made Jake’s cock jump and throb. There was something strange going on in Lloyd’s truck as they passed. It was all too quick, but it looked like the kid was rising up and down as if getting fucked from underneath. It was really weird but extremely erotic looking at the same time. In fact, there was something about tonight that had Jake’s libido supercharged. It was almost like the air that he breathed could turn him on. The patrol car was getting really warm inside and as usual, Sam started talking about getting his big cock getting wet, but this time, he never spoke of a girl; his girlfriend had moved out back in early September. No...all Sam would take about if he was referencing someone other than himself was that they were just a “hot hole”. He was getting into such detail this time; visually describing his horse cock to such extend that Jake was so hard and in pain from the pressure he had to physically hold down his clipboard to his lap to hide his excitement. Sam kept hinting to the fact that his story telling to Jake was making himself really horny, causing Sam to constantly and blatantly grabbing his crotch. Jake began to sweat as his own hormones raged for his partner. The sexual tension in the car was becoming completely overpowering, more-so than ever before. Sam began to slowly and erotically rub his massive legs, going down toward the knees on the outside of his giant quads then rubbing even slower up his inner thighs brushing his lengthening cock like it was a magic wand of power and lust. Over and over he did this as he very descriptively told Jake just what his cock could do to a person. He talked about the power it had like a mighty warlock’s scepter that caused anyone it gets in contact with to do his will. The more Sam talked about his cock, the more Jake’s breathing became incredibly deep and strong. Jake was starting to lose himself in Sam’s story and the scene that was playing out. Then, just as Jake thought he could take no more, Sam started to tug on his massive cock. Harder and harder he began to grab it and move the fabric of his pants over his cock. With every squeeze and pull Jake could see it thickening and slithering down Sam’s muscular thigh almost to his knee. At this point, Jake figured that if Sam was going to put on a show, who was he not to sit there and watch in enjoyment, but he was still very worried that this was a trap and Sam would beat him to a pulp if he found out how much in lust Jake was for him. His barrier was breaking down very quickly, though. “God this fucking feels good. I’m sorry dude, but I just can’t stop it. You can join in if you want. Go ahead and work that pipe of yours, partner. I know I got to work mine. Mmmm yeah…God I’m so fucking horny!” Still hesitating, Jake started to involuntarily rub his rock hard cock in his pants, but he kept the clipboard over it as he stared, mesmerized by Sam’s blatant display in front of him. Sam switched on the interior light and he looked up from his own lustful indulgence of his cock and over at Jake, “Look at that thing buddy, what hole wouldn’t love having that huge pipe opening it up. Tearing into it and filling it up with my fantastic spunk.” Sam squeezed his rod hard and almost instantly there was a huge wet spot where precum shot out from the piss hole soaking his leg and pants. He shook it some as if to wave it at Jake. “Damn, I’m so fucking horny tonight, I think this cock really does have a mind of own cause it wants to fuck and get sucked anyway it can. I really want to get off tonight. I’d let anyone that wanted it, have it.” Jake knew words out of Sam’s mouth were like that of a bad porno, but it seemed natural coming from him, since he loved to always talk about his sexual life. Jake looked up at Sam’s face with that last comment and Sam was looking straight at him, licking his lips and motioning with his eyes, for Jake to look back down and marvel at his God Cock. “So Jake, do you think I could make a cave outta someone’s tight hole? Make them never want to stop having me fuck them and give them a gift like no one has ever given them before?” With that comment Jake noticed Sam’s pants start to rip apart slowly where the wet spot was as if his cock wanted free from its prison. In fact most of his pants were straining to start ripping apart, ever so slowly as this God of a man began to grow. Jake couldn’t hold out any longer as he blurted out, “Damn, Sam you are the most impressive man I’ve ever met. You’re like the fuckin’ Hulk. I…I bet anyone would love having your ramming them. I know I…” Sam interrupted Jake before he could finish what they both already knew, but Sam wanted to play with Jake a little longer, “Probably any guy, too. What do ya think? You think some faggots ass could take my super dong. I bet a man’s rock hard muscle ass could take my giant cock easier than any nasty pussy could, huh? I'd make him cum without even touching himself, don't ya think?” “I…I dunno. Maybe, it could.” Jake was still playing along as well, even though he didn’t consciously want too. “Because right now; I just want to get off. I don’t care who I’m with. I just want a warm body with a tight hole to fill with my super cock and its special sauce. Like I said, I’d let anyone do me right now. Whattya think, partner? You know of any takers, or maybe you think you’re up to it…” Sam toyed with him. Still guarded, Jake said, “Why are you asking me?” “No reason, just thought…well…you might want to…at least…see it…maybe I can show you something even more amazing with it?” In a last ditch effort to hide his true desires, Jake said, “What are you crazy? I think I’ve seen plenty, already. I’m done with this, I’m no fag!! I’m sure some girls gaping gash would be just fine…” As Jake said the words out of his mouth, he turned away and grabbed the door handle, hoping to make a quick escape, before he gave into the lust that was inside of him. His heart started pounding as hard as his cock. His head was reeling and reality was dreamlike. He was fighting his desires as best he could, but deep inside, he knew it was a losing battle. For a moment, Sam was alarmed. “HOLD ON, DUDE!! It’s okay, seriously. I don’t think you’re a fag, man, but I know you’ve got to be curious. I know you are, everyone’s always curious. Lately, there have been a lot of people that have wanted to see it. Even some of the other guys on the force have seen it and almost all of them that have seen it were glad they did. They all said the same thing that you just said, but once they saw it, they knew they had wanted to see it all along, even if it was just for the penis envy and curiosity alone. Hell, until a month ago, I would’ve said no fucking way and kicked the piss right outta them, but lately I’ve seen a new outlook and it’s fucking awesome. Come on Jake; it’s cool. No one’s going to know. Hell, you should know by now, how much I enjoy the attention from you. I’ve noticed how you look at me with admiration and longing, but tonight...tonight buddy, you have a hunger in you, I can tell you are just full of desire and that's cool. That's totally cool. We’re just two horny guys showing off what we’ve got. I’m sure your cock is really nice, too. By the looks of your pup tent, I’ve noticed that you have a pretty big package as well, especially when you try and cover it up when it gets hard during my stories. Yeah, I’ve noticed it all the time. And in some weird way, it makes me even hornier when I see that you are all horned up over me. You always get really excited when I talk about fucking and all the sex I have. It’s cool, dude. I bet you jerk off thinking about me. I do. I fucking love myself and I love getting off on myself. I love you getting off on me too. So....let’s just show off what we’ve got to each other and get all this chicken shit out of the way” Sam could tell, Jake seemed a little more at ease. He tried a friendly challenge next. “Still you’re no match for my monster, but you look really good all hard and shit. Hell, I bet other guys are jealous of you too.” Jake looked embarrassed and turned his gaze away. Sam continued, still afraid that he almost lost Jake for a moment, “I know you’re not a fag, man. Anyone would get hard listening to my porn stories. Besides, you’re a guy, and guys love to see what someone else has, don’t they? Hell, I've had guys ask to suck it, too. And I don't judge, I just love getting off. Here, just take a look at how big, thick and long it is already here in my pants and I’m only half hard.” “HALF HARD!!” Jake thought and he turned back to look at it and he could clearly see that Sam’s cock must have been well over 10” now. “What does he mean only half hard.” The two words and the sight of Sam’s growing cock made Jake even more intrigued and horny. The voice in his head said, “I thought he was only 10” long, period.” Jake was embarrassed but kind of relieved that Sam knew he got hard during the sex stories. He was happy that he wouldn’t have to hide his rock hard cock anymore, but he still was extremely leery that this was a trap that Sam had set to bring him out. So he apprehensively said, “I don’t know, Sam. This is pretty weird. But…” “But what?! What’s the big deal, bro? I know you’ve GOT to be curious. You have to be. It's okay...I wanna see yours too.” “Well, maybe…” “You want to see my big shaft, don’t ya? Everyone does and I’m happy to oblige. They’re always very satisfied after they see it. I make sure of that. All I need is for you to tell me that you want to see it in all its glory.” Sam’s voice deepened and softened to the point of a low grumbled whisper, “Tell me, Jake. Tell me that you wanna see my huge cock. I know you do. Let go of your fear, Jake. Let go and give in to me. Listen to my voice...Listen to my cock telling you to want it. I’ve known you’ve always wanted too, haven’t ya? I’ve known that for a while now. My brother showed me a better way and now I want to show you. I know you love my massive muscles and I can feel your desire for it. Your body's on fire for me. Look at your own cock. It’s going to bust through your uniform, you want it so bad.” Sam pointed down to Jake’s throbbing crotch that was now wet with his own precum. “I…I guess I am. Maybe it would be cool to see what you’ve been talking about for the past 6 months. You always cover it up in the lockeroom.” Both men chuckled. Jake’s mouth was dry, but his lips and jock strap were soaked. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was finally going to get to see what Sam had been teasing him with for the past 6 months. He knew he had to keep his cool, though, but he wanted to see that cock in “all its glory” as Sam put it. Hell, he wanted Sam in all his glory too. Jake’s asshole began to throb and pucker. His cock ached in his pants. He was so hard that Sam was right in assuming that it felt like it would bust through his uniform. God, what he wouldn’t give to be able to do that. Still, he was embarrassed that Sam had seen his trouser tent, but he thought, maybe it’s for the best since Sam was clearly interested in Jake seeing his monster. He knew he wanted to say yes. Yes, to see Sam’s incredible body, Yes, to Sam’s incredible cock. Yes, to whatever may happen. Maybe Sam would let him play with it, he thought. God, that would be a dream come true. Just the thought of that made Jake’s cock jump and shoot some more precum into his already drenched pants. He wanted that huge cock in his hands or better yet in his ass, which was puckering up even more. But he was still unsure if Sam were testing him and that he would kick his ass, if he tried anything. But now Jake’s passion had gone over the threshold. His inhibitions left him like a new morning. He felt free and clear of the barrier that was holding him back. Sam had got the best of him and he blurted out, “Yes, Sam, show it to me. Show me your big fucking cock. I want it!! I fucking need it!!! Give it to Sam. Give me your huge cock!!!” Sam heard the words he longed to hear from his partner, which caused a burst of energy inside him and suddenly there were more rips in his pants, not only where his cock was, but in the thighs, calves and ass. Sam’s whole lower body seemed to be expanding inch by inch. Soon Sam would not be able to control the growth in him and it would take over his mind and body and he would only be able to go along for the incredible ride. Since his change at the farm, he would long for the growth to hit him every day; sometimes 2-3 times a day. His training was finally over and he was able to finally control his body and its growth. There were times, such as now, that the growth would begin to get away from him, but he would regain his hold on it as best he could. The growth was like a drug and he was hooked. Now he was about to have the ultimate high, since he was going to feel the growth but as well, he would have the love and lust he had felt for his partner. It was time to bring Jake into the family. Jake’s mouth dropped open and began to moisten as he could clearly see his partner growing. It was as if Sam’s body were a balloon of muscle that was slowly getting blown up, expanding and the muscles getting larger under the stretching skin, becoming more pronounced as they grew. His shirtsleeves began to rip. A few buttons popped off. One cracked the plastic glass covering the speedometer. Sam slowly worked the split open in his pants, but instead of using his hands, he let his cock control itself as it tore through the fabric like a wild animal slowly escaping its cage. Jake could see that the naked monster pushing itself free as it was actually pulsating now, expanding and contracting through the confines of its imprisonment. He was in awe of its ability to tear through Sam’s trousers. It shimmered with all the precum and sweat that had enveloped it. Yes, it was huge, but he thought that it was the most perfect and beautiful thing he had ever seen. Envy and curiosity were true understatements for what Sam said other men must have felt, for Jake was in complete admiration and yearning. He knew it needed his worship. Thoughts ran through his head as if it seemed to call to him, telling him to want it, to treat it as an Idol or a God’s tool for which he was to serve and please. He started to become hypnotized by it. Inch by inch he could see the beauty of it come into view. He started feeling dizzy and lightheaded. His palms were sweating, as was his forehead. He felt a hunger for it in his stomach and his asshole started to twitch uncontrollably. His cock was almost continually leaking precum in his jockstrap, soaking it. His eyes were wide and his chest heaved as his breathing become increasingly deeper and stronger. He developed a thirst in his mouth and throat to coincide with his mounting hunger. Jake was completely enthralled now, but he still had his wits about him. He knew, or rather quietly prayed that this cock that grew before him was going to be his to play with and to serve as was the growing man before him. Sam was right, it WAS bigger than 10” now, and in fact it was almost 14” and still growing. It was incredibly thick, too; like a baseball bat. There was a thick vein snaking all the way from Sam’s thick forest of pubic hair to under the hood of the massive cock head that looked like a fully ripened, delicious apple. It was as if a snake was crawling out from the bushes to engulf the forbidden fruit. Jake could see the movement of life fluid through the massive vein, giving Sam’s super monster all the nourishment it needed to grow and extend into its God-like status. As the huge appendage came more and more into Jake’s view, more and more of the real world melted away and all that Jake could think or want in this life was Sam and his giant cock. With every deeper breath of air into Jake’s lungs, he could smell the pungent aroma of Sam’s fuckpole; sweat mixed with pre-cum and Sam’s pheromones. With each whiff, Jake felt more alive and went deeper under Sam’s spell. His own way of thinking was gone, now and all Jake could think and pay attention to was Sam’s humongous cock and body expanding for his own private show. The lust in him rose with every thread of fabric that tore away. He had never in his life been more turned on. He began to hit a constant state of euphoria. Sam could tell that just as all the others, Jake was almost completely conquered to be his disciple of servitude and to become a muscle god himself. Sam knew he had to start the process of sealing the deal that Jake was unknowingly starting to sign. So, in one swift move, Sam took his hands and quickly tore his pants completely off and down over his huge column causing it to spring up to an almost 90 degree angle standing straight up at over 22” long and 9” around. This happened in just a matter of seconds and it was fully hard enough to stand more rigid than a steel pipe. There was so much precum already spurting out like a fountain from the nickel sized piss slit that when it sprung up, it shot large globs all over the car and one in particular flung over onto Jake’s face partially covering his right cheek, chin and lips. Jake felt it tingle on his skin and he left it there as he was now completely under Sam’s power. There was a large vein on top of Sam’s cock that was almost ¾” thick and pulsating with waves of a dark purple fluid flowing through it. The precum flow began to slow as it came out like a leaky pipe cascading down the shaft, completely covering it like posing oil for a bodybuilder. Jake felt his own cock jump hard in his pants and he had his first orgasm as it shot so much cum that it felt like he’d pissed himself. His voice cracked, “Oh God, I’m Cumming. I can’t help it…Jeeeezzzzus. Holy Shit!!! God, you’re so fucking huge and beautiful.” Sam let Jake have his orgasm and after it subsided he said, “It is, isn’t it? It feels so good to let it out. It loves being free from the confines of my uniform, where it can breathe. So what about you, Jake? Let’s see your cock buddy.” “I’m…I’m nothing like you, man. I’m just a little over average.” Jake moved the clipboard away from his cum soaked pants and pulled down his zipper. Normally he would have never been so blasé about showing his cock, especially since he had just filled his pants and he imagined he would begin to go soft, but not tonight. Tonight, he stayed rock hard and he was too far under Sam’s domination now. He dug down and fished out his normally impressive 9” cock, but, like he said, it was rather insignificant, when compared to Sam’s snake. To another normal man, though, Jake was very ample in the cock department. He began stroking it while looking at Sam’s anaconda that had consumed him. The pleasure running through him was so strong he began to softly moan. Only a few more strokes and Jake would have his 2nd orgasm. “STOOOOOOOOOP, DON’T CUM AGAIN,” Sam commanded. “I want this to last. Take your hand off your cock and close your eyes.” Jake did as he was told. He could feel his cock pulsating and pleading for the release of an orgasm. In fact, he was stalled at that state of euphoria just before your sperm comes rushing out of your cock. Sam knew that Jake was completely his now, but he still loved to play the game and in order to take over Jake and help him start the change; Sam had to get Jake into complete submission, first. He slyly spoke, “So Jake, very nice piece of meat there, buddy. You’re doing really well. I want you to keep your eyes shut and remember what my cock looks like in your mind. Remember its sheer beauty and size and tell me what see? Do not, I repeat do not hold back. I want your true feelings: Your true desires.” “I see something more beautiful than anything I have ever laid my eyes on. I see sheer joy and ecstasy in your cock, Sam. I see an Idol of worship attached to a God of a man that I have longed for and needed and wanted to worship and be with since the very moment I met him walking into the police station. I see my complete longing and desire for you. I see a life dedicated to you and I see that I WANT YOU.” Those last three words came out of Jake without any remorse or fear of being outted. Jake, finally gave Sam all he needed to hear. Now it was time for the “kill”. “Open your eyes and look at me.” Sam commanded. Jake opened his eyes and looked over at Sam. Every fiber in his body longed for the Man-God and his gaze showed every facet of complete submission. “Go on and touch it if you want, partner. Don’t worry about it. I don’t care. Everyone wants to touch it. Once they see it, they have too. It calls to them, just like it’s been calling to you. Don’t fight it, Jake. It wants you to feel it, to worship it, to make you one with it. Take it in your hand and feel its awesome power. It wants to give you its power and strength. It wants to make you huge.” Jake shook his head in agreement, casting his gaze back from Sam’s dark blue eyes to his giant pole and Jake was thrilled that he no longer had to hide his feeling for Sam and he would never again have to deny how bad he wanted the man of his dreams. A tear slowly crept down his cheek. He would never have to forgo his primal desire again: A desire that he was no longer in control of but it was now in control of him. He was happy to be completely in Sam’s control. In fact he was getting off on it. “You want it. You want to feel how heavy and huge it is. I know you do. In fact, Jake, I know you always have. I knew even before the night my brother and I changed your friends at the rest stop. Yes, you were right in suspecting me. They hardly put up a fight when they saw my cock. It called to them, just as it is calling you now. At that time I wasn’t fully able to change them myself, so my brother had the honors and they are reaping huge rewards for receiving our gift unto them. They are well on their way to becoming more than just great men; they are becoming GODS, like me. Go on and give in to it. It needs your worship. It needs your lust. It needs your hunger. I want you to be part of it. I want you to be a part of me. I want you to become a God, Jake.” Wide-eyed and trembling, Jake looked up from his gaze at the huge fuck pole due to that last comment and looked into Sam’s eyes. Tears were now streaming down his face. He was completely happy and relieved. He was more turned on then he had ever been in his life: Mainly he finally felt, free. That was the last moment that Jake would ever remember being a normal human. He was on his way to being one of Uncle Matt’s Godlike men. His hand trembled as it moved toward Sam’s giant cock. The monster glistened in the moonlight as Jake touched “glory” for the first time. He wrapped his large hand around Sam’s cock and still his fingers couldn’t touch due to the thickness of it. He began to slide his strong hand up and down feeling the power of it. Jake could tell that its weight was well over 15lbs. It was rock solid and throbbed of life. The precum covering it was like sheer seethe of thick oil that actually made Jake’s hand tingle and become increasingly warmer. Saliva escaped out of the side of Jake’s mouth. Then he realized how hot the side of his face was remembering the glob of precum that had hit him just moments before. He rose up his other hand, collecting some of Sam’s incredible potion mixed with his own tears and licked it with his tongue as he brought it into his mouth. He swallowed and a bolt of electricity immediately shot through him. Waves of a powerful new feeling and sexual highness more intense than he had ever felt before poured through him like an internal orgasm and he lost all control as he lunged at his idol of worship. With a deep breath, Jake took the entire head of the monster in, stretching his mouth to its limit. His lips cracked at the edges and started to slightly bleed. Sam yelled out. “FUCK YEAH, JAKE, SUCK DADDY’S HOT POLE. I’M GONNA MAKE YOU AMAZING. I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU A FUCKING TITAN.” Jake swallowed as much of Sam’s mammoth rod as he could, which at first was only a mere 2 inches, but with every push of his mouth down, it seemed easier to go further. Sam’s endless supply of precum was mixing with Jake’s own bodily fluids of saliva and blood causing his change to begin. Soon he had over half of Sam’s gigantic cock down into the back of his mouth and beginning down his throat. With every suck he swallowed more precum, energizing him even more and helping his body become more elastic to take the huge prick in him. His entire body was warming up and feeling more energized. “Yeah, Bitch, Dammit Mother Fucker, swallow my cock. I’ve been waiting for over a month for this. You are going to be my best. You are going to be colossal.” With that, Sam grabbed the back of Jake’s head and simultaneously rammed his hips up and his partner’s face down shoving all 20 inches of God cock into the back and then down into his new bitches’ throat. “Fuck yeah, bitch, you are going to make Matt one very happy man.” Jake was so into Sam’s cock; he thought Sam had said ME instead of Matt. Little did both of them know that this was just the beginning of Uncle Matt’s master plan. You see, Jake and another of Uncle Matt’s men were to meet later and change mankind. But good things come to those who wait. Jake was amazed at how easy it was to take all of Sam down his throat and how good it felt. He felt that god cock pulsating in his throat as it continued pumping Sam’s muscle juice into him. His body took over, beginning with his throat as it massaged Sam’s huge cock on its own. Jake felt consumed with lust and the need for more from his partner was becoming overwhelming. Just when his mouth seemed to stretch wider and his mouth cavity was even fuller of cock, something more began to happen. Was it his imagination or was Sam getting bigger, AGAIN? Another large stretch and Jake noticed that even though he hadn’t moved up or down on it, there was an added 4 inches from his face to Sam’s pelvis. Then Sam screamed and the whole car jumped as Sam’s orgasm began, flowing huge amounts of cum deep into Jake’s gullet. So much cum was pouring into the smaller man’s body that it began to flow out of his mouth and all over them and the inside of the care. Sam’s massive cock seemed to continue to grow inside and down Jake’s throat as his body seemed match his cock growing at a fast rate as well. Jake held onto Sam’s cock the best he could and then he began to realize that it wasn’t only Sam’s body that was increasing. Wave after wave of Sam’s cum flowed into Jake, continuing the process of Jake’s transformation. His body was on fire and his skin felt like it was soaked in sweat and cum. Suddenly, his clothes felt extremely tight. So much so that he felt the ass of his pants rip with force up the center and continue to rip completely around the waist and down the right side first and then the left of his legs till they fell onto the seat below him. His socks and his boots started to rip off of him. Then his shirt and the rest of his pants literally exploded in the car, shattering the passenger window with his holster. Meanwhile, Sam was accelerating in his own growth and beginning to lose control as well. He realized that if he didn’t maintain himself that they would both grow to insane proportions and quite literally be unable to function, let alone return to a normal human like size. In a desperate attempt to stay in control, Sam quickly unbuttoned his shirt before he ripped through another one. He usually was able to control the speed and mass of his size, but this time even he was almost out of control as his new subject was. He had been yearning to get his partner to join him as a huge muscle god since the day after he had become one himself. That was when Lloyd, his brother, took him by surprise one evening after they had closed up the gym. He had been working out extremely hard that night in anger and frustration, due to his girlfriend’s cold, rigid attitude toward sex with him. She said he was getting to rough and when he fucked her it hurt instead of arousing her. Lloyd took Sam’s frustrated body to the message room to “calm” him down. Sam was so horned up that even his brother’s touch got him hard. Lloyd told Sam to hold on for a moment as he made a call and in about 15 minutes later, there was a knock at the gym garage door. Lloyd answered the door and Sam saw what looked to him like a human wall. Within seconds, this beast had Sam’s cock in his mouth causing Sam to go into overload and the next thing he can remember from that night was waking up the at Uncle Matt’s farm with his huge hard cock and his body completely massive beyond belief. The next day he learned how to control his morphing and began his training as well as helping to recruit others for the farm. Within a few weeks he had recruited more men than anyone else, combined; over 57 men were given a new life because of Sam. Now, 2 months later, his lust for turning Jake was so much that he, again, was going into sexual overload and knew he couldn’t control himself much longer. He got the shirt off just in time as his chest and arms expanded to Herculean proportions, causing the roof of the car and the driver’s door to bend up and outward. He knew he had to move quick or his already 8 foot high massive frame could inhibit Jake’s newly developing body if they stayed in the police cruiser much longer. Since his partner was over the top of his pants with his growing cock filling him up, Sam just let them rip to shreds. He loved the feel of shredding his clothes; his favorite moments were the initiation of a new member and exploding out of his clothes with his massive body. There wasn’t much room left for Sam and Jake to grow in the car so he tore off the car door and pulled his cock out of Jake’s hungry mouth leading him out of the car like a dog to a bone. Jake had already grown over a foot everywhere and was shredded from his own clothes. Sam was almost completely naked too, with only tattered pieces of fabric hanging off of him, but he knew they were too close to the road and would be noticed, so he led his prey into the woods. The car on the other hand, looked totaled. It wasn’t going to be easy to explain that to the captain, but he shouldn’t mind, since he went through the change last weekend. Once he felt at a safe distance from the road, Sam grabbed Jake’s expanding body by the ankles and pulled him up so they were at a vertical 69 position and Sam inhaled Jake’s own throbbing and growing 11” cock. It had grown 2 inches in a matter of minutes. For a moment Sam let go of one of Jake’s ankles and realized that due to both of their incredible strength, they were able to sustain this position without holding on to each other by their arms, hands and legs. All they need to use was their super strong suction and jaws. Both men were well over 10 feet tall now and Sam decided that he himself was tall enough, but to let Jake continue to grow. It took almost all of his concentration to stop his own growth. They held on like this long enough for Jake’s expanding body to grow well over 12 feet tall, causing Jake’s head to reach the ground, Sam’s eyes widened in awe as Jake’s massive growing frame lifted Sam off the ground as it continued to gain height and mass. Jake’s cock had now also surpassed his mentor and was a good 22” long and over 9” around. Sam began to gag some and again was in awe at this since he had never gagged on another cock. Just when Sam felt that he either would need to begin to grow himself or die from suffocating on Jake’s humongous cock, Jake stopped growing. His body immediately started to convulse and thick gushing streams of cum poured down Sam’s willing throat. Sam drink and drink for what seemed forever until Jake’s giant orgasm’s finally subsided. Sam could hold out no longer and he erupted so much cum out of his cock that Jake felt as though he were drowning. This was the point when Jake passed out and both men fell to the ground causing a minor quake to rip through the forest. As they were unconscious, they proceeded to change back to their normal states, but for Jake his normal state was now that of one of the largest bodybuilders in the world. Twenty minutes later, Jake woke up in the arms of the man he had secretly loved for over the past 6 months. He looked over at Sam, who was still out and kissed him on the cheek. He realized that they were both naked and then every memory of his change came rushing through him as he saw his new “normal” body. His new massive godlike body was somewhat equal to his partner’s but his cock was noticeably larger. He quietly released himself from his sleeping lover, standing up and began to feel what yearned to have his entire life: A God’s body. Sam woke up shortly after and both men kissed. They walked back to the car. As soon as they reached the car, the ground began to shake and from over the hill that was part of Uncle Matt’s Farm, they saw a shock wave barreling toward them. Both men instinctively knew the cause of it and instead of shying away or hiding from the impending burst of energy, they embraced it and faced it head on with their arms outstretched behind them and the welcomed the approaching blast. As it leveled trees and most everything it came in contact with, the two men were in their instinctive trance and ready for the next phase of Uncle Matt’s plan to begin. The shock wave hit them both head on, causing the patrol car to overturn and the billboard sign along with most of the trees around them to be mowed down. Neither of their super strong bodies flinched, all that they felt was what was needed for the continued genesis of the evening. Both men instantly came as the rush of euphoria unlike anything they had ever felt passed through them. Visions of two colossal men who they both recognized as Sam’s brother Lloyd and his passenger, changing into God’s even larger than they had become. When the shock wave passed, each of them walked over to the car, Sam picked it up and turned it back over as Jake watched in amazement. Sam told Jake to try and lift the car, which he easily accomplished, sending a rush of sexual excitement through him. With the roof torn off the car, the both got it, started the car to their amazement and drove to the epicenter of what would be the beginning of a new race on Earth.
  3. Sean was seated on the concrete bench, arms and legs akimbo. So pumped was he not only was he unable to move his arms anymore, he could scarcely stand. His 5 acolytes cut and peeled off his sweat shirt and training trunks carefully. Sean was so bloated with a supernatural uberpump, his enormous size XXXXL size garments were like tourniquets on his vast, be-veined hypermuscular body, and could not be removed save by cutting. It is apparent now that Sean is a highly specialized machine, like a Formula 1 racer designed solely to go from zero to 250 kmh in 10 seconds. Like a Formula 1 racing car which requires a whole team of engineers in attendance, Sean required his own team of helpers in his most basic biological tasks because of his far-far-gone-beyond uber-human scale. Sean is literally so muscle-bound he can no longer handle normal day to day living chores of a normally-proportioned human-being. Sean led a special life, served by special acolytes, ate a strict and special diet, built his body according to a special program, all in a ruthless and utterly devoted, religion-like dedication to muscular hyptertrophy. He was as far removed from `'normal'' humanity as a Ferrari Formula 1 racer was different from your common garden variety Honda Accord or Ford Taurus. Sean was now stripped naked. An amazing sight greets his 5 acolytes. A vaguely humanoid shape assaulted the eyes. Sean made the Hulk looked like an anorexic Miss Universe. Other than having a clearly discernible head, Sean was a monstrous mass of marble-hewn muscles, bowling balls and cantaloupes wrapped in human skin. Every part visible of Sean was grotesquely bloated muscles abutting on other distended muscles, everywhere on Sean's body snaked vascularity which looked like a city's water pipe map gone mad. In his post-work- out, superpumped state, his arms looked like the rear legs of a prize bull inflated with helium. He was also more or less totally helpless now, literally muscle-bound in his hyper-mascularity, his massive tree trunk like chest heaving up and down majestically in post- workout panting. Sean was an artwork-in-progress, the result of almost a decade of maniacal devotion to packing on as much muscles as training, nutrition, genetics, and mania-like-dedication could pack. It was Sean's intention to transcend humanity through muscle- building. It was an understatement to say he looked like a young god. His acolytes began to spray warm water over Sean with a shower- sprayer to wash away his sweat, which was streaming across and down his massive musculature like river flowing down the curving landscape of Earth. Sean grunted in satisfaction. His attendants began to lovingly lather shower foam all over Sean's massive tortured frame with sponges, washing away his fatigue and the stench of sweat. Sean was soon coated in a shiny layer of bubbles, his massive boulder-like muscles as shiny and gleaming as the wax job on a Mercedes 500 CLK fresh off the production line in Stuttgart. Sean's appearance was so intensely erotic – he was the male, muscular version of Venus! – his five acolytes soon sported involuntary hard-on's as intense as steel pipes, and Sean smiled at the sight of his usual effect on men. Sean was intensely proud of his physique – as a result of the decade-long inhuman dedication to muscle-building, Sean knew he had this effect on males of every persuasion, be they straight or gay. Sean was the god in Sex God. Sean caught sight of himself in the showerroom mirror, attended and fussed over by his five acolytes (all of whom had intense iron-like erection), as if they were engineers lovingly tuning, washing and waxing a sports car. The very sight turned him on too, and his monster-dick began to twitch and swell. Sean's acolytes began to towel him dry. He was so tickled by the feeling of being toweled off his monster-dick began to swell and twitch in rhythm with his heartbeat. From a limp `'small'' 13- inches, his sausage began to swell, twitch, swell, twitch, swell, twitch, swell, twitch, until it was a majestic 22 inches long. For Sean had so much male hormones as a result of his training and diet, even his dick has hypertrophied monstrously through the years. Sean's dick finally swelled to its great, majestic limit. It was actually terrifying to behold. 22 inches from top of the balls to the end of the glands, Sean's penis belonged on a baby male sperm whale, not a human being. Topped with a huge, grapefruit sized, purplish glands, massive veins traced and ran mesmerizingly down the sides of Sean's shaft, surrounding the full mind-blowing 9.5-inch circumference of his dick like hosepipes. It was the size of a fire- extinguisher, and looked the part with its vivid redness. Only that it was Sean's superhuman uber-dick. A huge, heavy, incredibly massive, towering reddish-purple pillar of turgid flesh, somehow comically twitching and jerking in its intense hard-on, in time with Sean's heartbeat. If Sean's massive musclebod was vascular, his dick's veins had veins on them. Mind-blowing and impressive though Sean's dick was, it would slowly dawn on the on-looker the full terrifying extent of Sean's sacrifice in his unceasing quest for super-muscular Godhood. Sean's dick was so big, he can no longer have sex with a fellow human- being. Yessiree, Sean is condemned by his super-development to an eternity of self-gratification or manual gratification by other. No human mouth, vagina or asshole can accommodate Sean anymore than anyone can use a fire-extinguisher up one's bottom. After his dick grew beyond 20 inches, Sean once seriously contemplated using cows or hippopotamus, but was wary of what the ASPCA would do to him. The last time Sean actually fucked a man was when he was 11-yrs old, when his dick was a `'mere'' 16 inches. Since he went beyond 18 inches, he would likely have killed anyone `'lucky' enough to bottom him. Since then, Sean had no choice but be served by the tongues and hands of his acolytes, as they presently began the time-honoured ritual. Lovingly his eldest acolyte began to run his hands and tongue up and down Sean's massive tower of erected flesh. Sean smiled in pleasure. A huge drop of precum began to form at the tip of his monstrous glands, swelling to a big bright jewel-like hemisphere before running down the incredible le-e-e-e-e-ngth of Sean's incredible ubermanhood. Sean began to moan in pleasure. He was a God worshipped by his High Priest. His eldest acolyte, a massively- developed (but clearly human-sized) 22 yr old professional BB, grasped the circumference of the shaft of Sean's dick in both hands and began to rub it down with a moisturizing oil. As if it were possible, Sean's dick reddened even further and swelled even larger. It became an incredible sight, shiny with an oily sheen, huge, throbbing and twitching in time with Sean's heartbeat, Sean's top acolyte, himself a professional BB, could barely put BOTH his hands around Sean's monstrous growth, grasped them and ran them up and down Sean's 22.5 inch long shaft. Up and down he worshipped Sean's monstrosity, grasping it as tightly as he could possibly grasp. Sean gasped and moaned in pleasure. Up and down his grasp went, sliding and slipping on Sean's increasingly copious pre-cum. Sean's precum production is as superhuman as his ubercock was - soon Sean's monstercock was literally streaming with precum, which his top acolyte dutifully spread evenly up and down his ubermanhood as he stroked it. Now, after a while, his acolyte wrapped a towel soaked in oil around Sean's monstrosity and used that instead to stroke it up and down. There is a good reason for this. Sean's monstrosity is not only Godzilla-sized. It is CALLOUSED. Yes, calloused. Sean had to be jerked off at least 8 times a day, sometimes 12 times a day, for his BALLS are also acutely, almost pathologically hyper-developed. Sean's balls were like the sizes of large hand-grenade, and almost just as explosive. Minute to minute, Sean's balls pump out ginormous, inhuman quantities of testosterone into Sean's bloodsteam and jeez into his ballsacs. As a result, Sean ''fills up'' at like 2 hr intervals. If Sean does not relieve himself by jerking off at 2 hourly intervals - like the rest of us relieve ourselves by urination - his erection would become an intensively painful one. Painful to the point of torment, agonizing to the point when Sean cannot think of anything else except sexual relief. The longest Sean could hold off was 3 hours without a hand job. Beyond that his erection would become so intense and bloated he would scream in agony and cum spontaneously like a fire hydrant knocked over by a car. As a result therefore, Sean's poor poor monstrosity of a superdick had to undergo masturbation at a head-shakingly unbelievable 8 times minimum a day, as a consequence thereof it is by now a severely calloused and increasingly INsensitive thing. And no matter how worn out, abused, scarred and abrased it is, Sean HAD to relieve himself time and again due to his ceaseless and constant sperm production! Therefore, Callous built upon scab upon scar upon callous upon scab upon scar until Sean's monstercock was not only baby-spermwhale-size enormous, hard as marble when erect, red as a fire extinguisher and just as large and hard, it is also a severely calloused and relatively unfeeling thing, almost like a pillar of red and purple marble, almost as if its not made of human flesh anymore. Sean's cock actually had a hard and rough, old Rhino-skin leather like surface. If his acolyte continued to rub Sean's cock for any longer, he would suffer bleeding abrasion on his palms!! Which is why after sometime his acolytes had to change to wrapping Sean's hypercock in a coarse-weave burlap towel (bought specially to masturbate Sean) soaked in oil or cream and masturbate him. If a towel of any softer fabric is used, Sean won't feel anything, so hardened and coarse his cock has become! Anyone appreciating this would truly understand why Sean is compared with a Formula 1 racing car - Sean is sooo hypermascular he can be said to be a specialized, post-human statue made out of huge over-developed muscles, veins and cock wrapped in thin human skin (except his cock of course, which is wrapped in THICK, truck-tyre like rubbery skin)! Sean's cock was not figuratively but quite literally a battering ram, huge and hard enough to smash doors open! There was once an incident when the wind blew a door shut on Sean's engorged manhood. SLAM went the door which bounced off Sean's super- cock, caught in the doorway by accident. Sean felt but a small tap what would have emasculated a normal man and landing a mere mortal in the hospital's ER! So hard and strong was Sean's supercock. ''Faster! Harder!'' Sean cried. The veins on his acolyte's arms stood out in angry red snaking lines as he increased his assertions. Up and down, up and down, up and down he sped up his massaging of Sean's pillar of manhood-glory. Sean began to squirm and jerk with the pleasure of the VERY rough cock rub-down. Why can't Sean do this himself? Remember his hyperpump? His arms are so pumped after his training beyond failure, he can no longer reach his gigantic cock himself. Try as Sean did, after his average Arms Day work-out his arms would become so rigidly, solidly super-pressurized with growth-inducing blood, they are not so much human arms as bolsters packed with balloons filled to near-explosion point with helium. Not only are Sean's arms completely shagged out by the training, his bi's and tri's are so rigidly pumped Sean could no longer move them. Which explains the post-training shower jerk off routine by his acolytes. Truly Sean is already a highly specialized creature, a hyper-muscle ''invalid'', a divine muscle- monster who needs the constant, expensive care and attention of what is effectively his rear-palace harem of retainers and courtiers. ''Hey, I am not cumming.'' Sean complained after awhile. ''The towel is too soft!'' This was also a well familiar signal to his devoted acolytes. One of them then took out what they always held in reserve, as Sean's regular specialized equipment of daily living. Sean's special FLESHLIGHT ©. In case you don't know what that is, this is a huge 30 inch long version of the regular Fleshlight, basically a cylinder-like masturbation aid, shaped and proprotioned like a Flashlight (in Sean's case, as large as a small Bazooka to accomodate Sean's monstercock!), into which one inserts one's cock and use it for self- gratification. See Sean's acolyte carefully primes Sean's special-order, 30-inch long Fleshlight with lubricant, and the privilege was again Sean's eldest and most muscular acolyte to slip it over Sean's 22.5 incher. Sean's Fleshlight was a special custom-job lined with little stud-surfaced STEEL ball-bearings mounted in ball-joints. The entire inside ''business surface'' of Sean's Fleshlight was designed to give Sean's enormous, calloused and desensitized cock as much abrasive friction pleasure as possible without actually removing his cock-skin. Two acolytes held sides of the enormous 30-incher instrument, primed it carefully with viscous motor-oil (experience has shown that Sean does not like normal human sex lubricants! Sean's cock was too hard and unfeeling) and ran it up and down Sean's rock-solid purple-colored ultramanhood. Sean's giiiiinormous onstrosity of a cock became even redder and harder and larger at this treatment, if it were possible. Sean began to grunt, his face began to redden, sweat ran down his freshly-bathed brows, as he slowly approached the ecstatic, volcanic blow-off point, when he relieves himself of the massive quantity of cum now stored in his engorged, agonized balls. ''Hgruuh, hgruuh, hgruuh, hgruuh, hgruuh'' grunted Sean like an animal, bucking his groin in pleasure. ''Schlick schrack Schlick schrack Schlick schrack Schlick schrack Schlick schrack'' his acolytes ran the bazooka-proportioned Fleshlight up and down Sean's red, mascular and coarsened engorged enormity. Sean's attending acolytes are so aroused by the sight of the superhuman being jerked off they themselves were deperately jerking off their own dickies and squirting their cum into the shower drains. ''HALT!'' someone shouted. Everyone turned around. It was Sean's coach! ''Don't let him cum yet!!'' Coach admonished. Sean's acolytes let go of the Fleshlight ©. ''Hey, furgawdsakes what gives, Coach?'' moaned Sean, face red, panting, two enormously pumped arms still immobilized by Sean's own post-training pump. ''I am almost bursting! Lemme cum, please, please PLEEEEZE!! For pity's sake, Coach, I gotta blow! Or else I would really blow up! My balls are a'hurting, Coach!'' At saying this, Sean tried mightly to reach the Fleshlight himself. Ohhh how mightily he struggled!! How he struggled until he was purple in the face, breathless in his exertions, grunting in frustration, but HE CANNOT REACH HIS COCK!!! His arms were still so pumped he was as helpless as a lunatic strapped in a straitjacket! ''Arrrrrggghhhhh!!!'' screamed Sean. ''Ahhh'' said the Coach, holding up a huge 30-incher vacuumpump tube. ''Remember, today we gonna try for 25 inches?'' ''Ohhh no, Coach, I can't stand the pain!'' cried Sean. ''Beyond failure, Sean, beyond failure! You can't achieve greatness by being a wuss!'' scolded the Coach. ''Coach, man, you don't know how it feels, no HUMAN knows how it feels, with such a pressure hose or fire-hydrant where your cock should be, yet you can't leggo! I am all but bursting!! You ever held your piss back for 5 hours, Coach?'' ''Therefore all the more reason we get this over with'' said the Coach, unrelenting monster he was, in his own way. ''If I can't make you a 25-incher to match your 45-incher arms, I am no Coach! You gotta have symmetry, man. Your cock gotta match your arms! You will grow to 25-inches or DIE in the attempt!'' Shouted the coach. `'Ahhhh shucks, OK then, Geddon widdit!'' Sean gave in `'But first you swallow this'' the Coach held out in his hand an assortment of some 20 plus blue, orange and purple pills. `'Whats these?'' asked Sean, anxious to get on with the pump-job, now squirming from the discomfiture as his balls filled to near bursting point. `'Viagra, Livitra and Cialis.'' Said the Coach `'WHAT!!!???"" cried Sean, `'Its not as if my hard-on is not bad enough!!'' `'No guts no glory, boy-o.'' said the Coach. `'We gotta put more blood into the Pillar of Glory! Remember, beyond failure, Sean, beyooooond failure.'' `'No Shit?'' said Sean `'Am I to die from my hard-on?'' `'You WUSS!!'' Cried the Coach! `'What's wrong, little girl? Afraid of a little hard-on?'' `'Alright already, give'em here.'' Sean resigned himself. He opened his mouth and the coach tipped the handful of pills in. The coach then fed Sean some Gatorade to wash down the 20 odd assortment of pills. Within 15 seconds, Sean's superhuman metabolism has already absorbed the virility enhancing pills. Sean's face reddened even further into a darker shade of purple and looked as if he was asphyxiating. `'Arrrghhh! Ouch! OUCH!!'' moaned Sean as his dick grew remorselessly under the effects of the potent cocktail of erection- enhancing medication, tearing apart some of the older, less flexible scars and callouses on his monsterdick. His dick, already an astonishing 23.5 inches in length, deepened in colour, pulsed even faster, and incredibly, became even harder and hotter and LARGER. Some of the newer callouses tore apart under the stresses of the new engorgement, and tiny fine cracks of redness exposing the raw flesh beneath the skin began to show, snaking across the already tortured landscape of bloated hose-like veins and map- like vascularity across Sean's vast, inhuman dick. `'The vacuum pump, gentlemen'' commanded the Coach. The huge, 30-incher bazooka-like plastic tube of the vacuum was then fitted over Sean's dick, but not before further motor-oil was lathered onto the incredible length of his dick. The rubber seal at the bottom of his vast fat shaft was secured, and the hose to the pump attached. Sean's dick filled up the tube all the way up to the 23.5 inches marking on the side. `'Here's to 25 inches.'' The coach signaled. The eldest acolyte took the manual pump and began working it. Pssssfffttt puff Pssssfffttt puff Pssssfffttt puff Pssssfffttt puff Pssssfffttt puffhe went, his 24-inches biceps swelling and straining as he began his exertions. Rapidly, Sean's monstermanhood thickened even further and filled the circumference of the clear Perspex tube, the skin sticking and pressing against the glass wall. From the 23.5 inches, slowly Sean's cock edged upwards and bigger and bigger. 23.8, 24, 24.2, 24.4, 24.6 inches. Agonizingly Sean's cock was pumped longer and longer, and yet longer. `'Cum'on!'' Shouted the coach. `'You can do better! Work that rump, consciously PUMP more juice into your cock! Remember, no pain no gain! Work it, WORK IT dammit!!'' Sean co-operated. He began to visualize pumping in more and more blood into his already painfully congested cock. He wriggled and thrusted his rump, pushing, pushing, pushing, trying to get more and more blood in. Forward, push, forward wriggle, push, thrust, thurst THRUST dammit! Sean struggled like a fish on the end of a pole, his own monster pole. And it began to work. Together with the effects of the relentless pump, the near-toxin level of Viagra and Cialis (enough to give a mortal human male kidney failure!), and Sean's tremendous force of will, Sean's painful, bloated tormented cock was made to inch agonizingly towards that magical goal: 24.7, 24.75, 24.8, 24.85, etc etc. `'Cum'on! You can do it'' encouraged the coach. The rest of Sean's acolyte witnessing this historic moment began chanting `'Twenty- Five!! Twenty-Five!! Twenty-Five!! Twenty-Five!! `' `'Aaaaaaaarrrggggghhhhhhhhh!!!'' Sean screamed in agony as the remorseless pumping continued. Finally his cock edged to and met the 25 inches mark. The sight was unbelievable, in so far as everything about Sean is already beyond belief. The 30 inch long clear Perspex tube was solidly filled from bottom to the 25 inch mark with a tube of cockmeat. At a signal from the coach, the tube is released, and slowly slid off Sean's Gargantuan bloated purple pillar of cockmeat, now 25 inches long, almost 9.5 inches around. The first, and ever, human being with a cock more than 2 feet long. It was a dark red in hue, almost burgundy, with purplish-black veins snaking across the vast bottled expanse of cockmeat majestically, dividing up into red coloured distended lesser veins. Angry bright red cracks criss-crossed the length of Sean's cock like lava streams, where the old callouses have broken through to raw flesh below due to the remorseless expansion forced upon his cock. Even Sean was amazed at himself. `'Coach, lookit that. Can you believe it? No words can describe me now.'' `'For truly you are a young god incarnated. Priapus made flesh.'' Whispered the Coach. `'Coach, I gotta blow! The pain, the PAIN!!!!'' whined Sean. The gargantuan 30-incher Fleshlight was brought back and quickly slipped over Sean's cock. The sight was like loading a Stinger missile into its launcher tube! `'Oh gawd, here it goes!! Arrgh!'' screamed Sean. So near the edge he was, the first touch of the Fleshlight brought Sean right OVER the edge, and he cummed. `'Tha he BLOWS!!'' Screamed his coach!! The word `'cum'' does not describe what happened next. You gotta visualize Old Faithful in the Yellowstone Park, or a fire hydrant knocked over by a car. The first gush of Sean's monstercum was so powerful and high-pressured that it propelled the Fleshlight clear off his cock entirely WHOOOOOM! The poor hapless Fleshlight hit the showerroom ceiling with a loud crashing THUD and fell to the ground in pieces, the newly liberated ballbearings going `'ping ping ping ping ping ping'' as they bounced all over the floor. Sean arched his thickly muscle back as he was racked with the agony and ecstasy of a long-deferred cumming. `'Oh gawd, oh gawd oh gawd Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay Yay YAY YAY YAY!!!!'' screamed Sean, as he trembled and spurted and spurted and spurted trembled and spurted trembled and spurted white thick cum again and again, thrusting his strong muscular back and pelvis into the air at each spurt. Sean's cum-geyser was so powerful he hit the ceiling of the showerroom at least in the first 5 squirts. Huge globs of his super-potent thick sticky cum hit the ceiling and dripped down in long slimy streams like somebody upended a bucket of glue. It is clear now why Sean could not have sex with a human being for such a long time. Sean's cumming was powerful enough to cause internal injury to a cow or female hippopotamus! It certainly blew the special-order tailor-made $3,000 Fleshlight apart! Later, video evidence would reveal that Sean came for at least 20 seconds, and spurted some 35 times, 5 of the earliest squirts reaching the ceiling. It was estimated that Sean came at least 1.5 litres of cum. Finally, Sean was done. Hyperventiling, Sean slowly calmed down. His head, torso, body, still-huge cock, legs, bench, and a few of his acolyte around him were totally drenched in thick long viscous streams of cum. All this time Sean could not even reach his cock, as his arms, pumped to 45 inches, were still effectively immobile. `'Gaaaaaaaawwwwwd ……'' sighed Sean. `'OK, not bad. 2 sessions like this per week for the next 6 months should see your arms permanently at 45 and your cock permanently at 25.'' Said the coach. Sean fainted. •
  4. It was Arms Day in the gym. Arms Days are usually Sean's favourite day. He just adores that tight tight TIGHT pump in his arms after hitting supersets after supersets. His enormous tri's and bi's, straining at his tight-fitting white tees, twitched at the happy anticipation of another day of muscle-blasting. As he walked towards the gym in the characteristic semi-waddle typical of the enormously super-muscled (for he can't really close his superthick thighs – his huge 50'' hams force his legs apart - in fact he has to continuously lubricate his inner thighs with olive oil for his thighs are so enormous and fit against one another so tightly the skin between his legs would abrade completely off if he walked more than 300m!), he was already flexing and curling his arms and feeling the beginning of that gratifying, Maleness-affirming, prepump warmness seeping through his enormous, Football-sized upper arms. He just can't wait to blow them larger at the gym that day. As he waddled closer and closer to the gym, he smirked as he feels his Adidas gym watch beginning to strain and stretch at his right wrist as his forearm, snaking with veins under the skin, also begins to swell as a result of his endless flexing and curling. On the way to his gym, groups of girls saw him and waved enthusiastically to him. He would reply with a naughty smirk on his handsome face, and make either his left or right pecs `'wink'' at the girls, who would scream and whoop at the incredible sight of his 70'' chest flexing and writhing under the straining material of his tight white tees. As he walked, he felt one sleeve of his tees burst at the seam, then the other burst too, as his bis and tris swelled further and further as he curled them. He smirked at that familiar feeling. He has regularly burst the sleeve of every of-the-shelf tees he ever wore for 3 years now, especially after he topped 400 lb on the weighing scale. He pushed the gym door open with his enormous muscle chest which juts out from under his chin literally like the proverbial rack. He greeted the rest of the dudes in the gym with his broad, comradely smile and a warm wave. His team of training buddies surrounded him. 5 lads in all, all buffed and experienced in advanced training techniques but none so developed as Sean is, for Sean is the up and coming uber-bodybuilder, only 18 years old but already pushing the scale at an incredible 435 lb. Sean was truly in person the `'god'' in the term `'Musclegod''. His training pals were more acolytes than training partners – for no one human could truly touch Sean in training, he was that far gone in supermanhood. His training pals wait at his every need in the gym for the sole privilege of being near him, worshipping his muscular enormity. In the changing room, Sean's acolytes helped him peel off his tees. It was difficult, for it was like spray-painted on his unbelievably, muscular body. They smirked as they helped Sean pulled on his training briefs, beholding his huge manhood which dangled at a massive 14-inches even when limp. As Sean waddled heavily out of the changing room, he was muscular poetry in motion itself:- his pecs like wte sandbags underneath his loose gray training shirt. His enormous muscular arms jutting out of the cut-off holes of his training shirt at 45 degrees. Its been years since he could keep his arms down by the side of his torso – pumped or cold his arms can no longer hang at lower than 45 degrees, held up by his bis, tris, pecs and laterals. As he becomes more and more pumped his arms would stand out further and further till they are just 25 degrees from horizontal eventually when he is more or less fully pumped. Sean was not human looking. He was like a statue made of human skin with bowling balls under his skin. His coach greeted Sean, `'Hi! How ya Sean? Are you ready to go beyond 45'' today?'' His coach carefully felt Sean's gigantic bis and tris, which were unreal, already huge, veiny and glossy with the perspiration of Sean's pre-pump. `'Ya betcha.'' Sean said. `'You are 40'' already, the largest muscular arms possessed by any teen, no, any human, on earth. But I think you should push the envelope, go beyond that, hit 45'', or anything bigger, as big as your amazing genetic legacy can manage.'' the Coach said. `'Yah, I'm in. Lets begin today.'' Sean replied. His team of acolytes applauded. `'Alright, lets warm the guns up before we fire them, shall we?'' said the Coach. `'Aye'' Sean replied, as he picked up 150 lb barbells in each hand handed to him by an acolyte each, and slowly began his warm-up burns. He carefully curled his left arm, then his right, then his left, then his right. The scene was mind-blowing. Everyone in the gym effectively stopped and just gawked at the unbelievable sight. It was Sean's Arms Day, and its always a special occasion. Sean continued his warm up reps in absolute, professional concentration. Left and right, left and right, left and right, he worked his arms, warming them up, without pausing, without distraction. Sean was the total muscle machine – utterly devoted to the enlargement and growth and hypertrophy of his external musculature. And boy did they warm up. Luckily his training shirt had no sleeve, for they would have burst soon. Sean's muscle arms swelled rapidly as they filled up with his blood. From 38'' cold, they redden, swelled, redden further, swelled further, swell yet further as Sean relentlessly warmed them up. It was an eye-popping, belief-defying sight. Veins snaked like hosepipes under his skin, stretched up limits, as his muscles moved like massive liquid boulders under Sean's epidermis. Still Sean continued his warm-up. Left and right, left and right, he went on relentlessly, and his arms continued to swell, redden, swell, redden. After 500 absolutely straight, no-cheating, rigid, disciplined reps each, Sean let go of the 150 lb barbells. He was now thoroughly warmed up. His arms stood at 50 degrees from the vertical besides his body. He was barely breathing faster, his tabletop like pecs rising and lowering majestically. He struck one bicep pose, than another, grunting in satisfaction at the sight which confronts him from the mirror. Enormous muscle cannons, each now swollen to over 41'', the waist measurement of a plump man, criss-crossed with angry hose-like veins. The bis literally `'jumped'' as he flexed one arm, then the next. Jaws dropped in disbelief in the gym. The sight was already unhuman – his arms belonged on a bull, not a human-being. Satisfied at the warm-up, Sean now commenced his `'real'' training. Two of his acolytes hoisted up between them a 450lb barbell and he took it in his hands. He began to pump out one rep after another. He did each rep really slow, burning the bi's, feeling the blood rushing in and jamming the bi's, than lowering each rep really really slowly, feeling each rep burning to the max. Veins snaked, appearing and shifting oilily under his skin now shining with perspiration. He began to breathe more and more rapidly, so Sean began to control his breathing. Really slowly up, then slowly down, up and down, relentlessly he ground out rep after rep. His arms began to turn redder and redder. After his first real serious set, Sean lowered the weights and struck a double bi. His biceps are now red, and swollen up into an impressive peak. His tri's swell below like the enormously distended stomach of a python which had just swallowed a whole piglet alive. And alive it was, huge boulder-like masses shifted hypnotically under his straining, shiny skin, now dripping with perspiration. Whilst in the classic double bi pose Sean relaxed his arms, then TENSED it suddenly. His bi's seemed to jump violently through his skin, reaching not so much as a peak but a sharp jut into the air. He repeated this a few times. Every dude in the gym applauded, a few desperately stole away to jerk off in the toilet, so unbelievably erotic was the sight. But Sean has only just began. He began his second set with 500 lb barbells, handed to him by 4 of his acolytes under direction of his coach. He began his reps. It was a virtuoso performance event. Everyone in the gym was transfixed. Sean began to grunt with each rep, but he was disciplined, discipline was everything Sean stood for. Each rep was done absolutely straight, absolutely. He would not begin cheating until much, much, much later, when he has to eventually push the envelope beyond failure, beyond the pain barrier, beyond the pump barrier. Rep after 500 lb rep he ground out, his face now livid, sweat pouring off his handome musclegod face. Burn, burn, he commanded his arms, burn and swell. His sweat shirt now sodden with sweat, sticking to his enormously pumped and tortured torso. After the first 15 reps at 500lb, his 4 acolytes took the barbell off Sean. He waddled in front of the mirror. Boy was he pumped. His face was red, streaming with sweat. His cannons are now a deep shade of red, the veins curling and snaking around angrily under his skin, which now seemed like shrink-wrap cling-film around bowling balls which were his biceps. The gym crowd gathered around in worshipful silence. With an effort, Sean commanded his arms to lift up and struck a double-bi pose to examine the result of his efforts. His coach wound a tape around his bi's. They were now 42'', a full one- inch larger than before the serious sets. As he moved his arms, his veins snaked around under his distended and stretched skin of his bloated, agonized biceps and triceps. The gym lads applauded in awe. Sean grunted in satisfaction. But still Sean was just getting into his stride. His acolytes gave hoisted up to Sean a 600lb barbell, and Sean carefully tightened his grip on the bar. His face a picture of total concentration now, he bit his lips, and with a loud gasp he lifted the barbell in his first 600 lb curl. He then lowered the barbell slooooowly, ever so slowly, feeling the burn, feeling it, his arm muscles straining, his purple veins squirming under the glistening red skin. Up and down, up and down, went the 600 lb barbell in strictest discipline, without cheating and without leaning forward and backward one bit. Sean began grunting like a dangerous, cornered feral animal. A fullgrown bear would be frightened of Sean now, he looked scarcely human, but a huge, utterly bloated reddish mass of severely pumped muscles and squirming garden-hose veins. He grunted louder and louder, and finally, as he tried to lift the barbell beyond the 30th rep, he had to bark like a karate exponent to work up the strength to lift the barbell. HAH! Sean barked, hoisting the barbell up, he's in agony now. ARGH! HAH! ARGH! HAH! ARGH! HAH! ARGH! HAH! Sean yelled to himself, expelling each breath explosively as he hoisted the barbell up again and again in each agonizing painful rep. For Sean knew, pain is his friend, with pain he grew, without pain he stagnated. The more pain he can manage to generate and absorb, the nearer to supermanhood he rises. HRRRRAGH!! HRRRRAGH!! Even Sean's monstrous arms began to falter and tremble as he pushed beyond the 40th rep with the 600 lb curling bar. At this juncture, Sean began to cheat a little to hoist the bar up. Again and again he lifted. His arms were now an appalling sight. They were not like arms anymore, but reddish purple bolster- casing stuffed with blue-ribbon-winning Prize cantaloupes. Hhhhhnnnnn!! Hhhhhnnnnn!! HNNNNNN!!!! Sean finally stalled, sweat poured down his facial features, now locked in an utterly determined, maniacally concentrated rictus of utterly devoted iron will. His acolytes rushed in to help him – they grabbed hold of the ends of the curling bar and slowly helped Sean complete the reps to the 50th rep. Sean trembled and practically moaned at the pain involved in the last rep, his knuckles a deathly white on the barbell. `'Yrrrraaaaagghh!!'' Sean screamed as he finally completed the last rep, at the same time a huge wet spot appeared in front of his training shorts as he lost control of his bladder as well, so intensive was the inhuman effort. With a thunderous crash, Sean dropped the 600lb curling bars at the 50th rep. The gym crowd exploded in rapturous applause. He stepped back. He now looked like nothing on earth born of a human mother. Imagine a shaved bear which had been reared on a 5g planet. He was pumped, and pumped was he! He tried to strike a double-bi pose and found that he could but lift his arms towards his ears with great difficulty. He was so pumped he was losing some arm flexion! The entire gym exploded again in standing ovation as Sean finally managed a double-bi – an utterly amazing sight presented itself to the audience. Here was Sean's arms, near-failure, two huge, purplish- red, distended, stretch-mark-festooned, distended veins crawling around like pipework under the skin, monstrosities. Hell, his arms are now larger than a plump man's waist! The coach stepped up with a tape measure whilst Sean held his double-bi pose with great difficulty, sweat pouring down his entire body completely drenching his training shirt as if he was in a wet T-shirt competition. His arms now measured an amazing 43.5''. `'You know you have just reached the edge, Sean!'' said the Coach. `'To grow larger, you need to go beyond the edge!!'' Sean grunted in agreement. Taking a swig of water, Sean readied himself for `'going beyond the edge''. His true journey for the day has just begun. The program was to have Sean continue to pump out rep after rep on decreasing weights after his arms balk and fail at each higher weight threshold. I.e., when he can no longer do 500 lb curls, he would do 400 lb curls until he too fail at that weight threshold. Then he would start to do 300 lb curls until he fails at that too. Then he would start again at 200 lb and go to failure on that weight. Until he was curling an empty barbell. And when he fails at that, he will continue to flex his arms until he cannot move. This was what is meant in Sean's version of `'beyond failure''. With a look of iron determination, face set in a grim expression, Sean began his agonizing journey towards that final failure. 400lb, then 300lb, then 200lb, slowly and agonizing he progressed, his acolytes steadying his barbell and helping him reach that last pre- failure rep, in the process subjecting his already massive arms to stresses which would have knocked out a lesser mortal. Finally, Sean reached point he was curling an empty barbell. Or attempting to curl. His bicps were by now so distended he could no longer physically complete a curl, his biceps were so huge and hard now they got in the way of a complete curl! 45 degrees from the vertical was the highest he could now manage. Hnnnnn!! Hnnnnn!! Hnnnnn!! Hnnnnn!! Sean grunted like a fighting bull in a Spanish bullring, his face initially red but now almost ashened at the sheer enormity of the effort. In total contrast, his arms were now a disshapened shifting mass of muscle abutting and pushing other muscles out of the way, of veins so distended they bordered other veins. Hell, his veins no longer looked like hoses, they look like German smoked sausages! His arms now looked as if they were made out of balloons and salamis filled with purple ink. His arms felt as if they were one continuous sore, aflame with an incredible description-defying pump. Slowly, Sean discovered he could no long even lift that empty barbell, so intensely excruciating was the extreme pump. His arms looked as if they were about to explode from the incredible pressure. Sean was attempting the final curl with barbells when suddenly, `'Hrrrrraaaaaagggggggh!!'' Sean suddenly lost his breakfast. His morning's meal sprayed forth from his mouth in a huge pink stream of liquid, but thankfully one of his acolytes, long accustomed to Sean's physical reaction, quickly hoisted a bucket to his mouth and caught most of the hot, acrid stream of vomitus. Sean was nonchalant. He knew his body signs too well. First, losing his bladder control was the first sign that he was getting a good, solid workout. If he did not then lose his last meal, he would have been disappointed – that would have meant a slow day at the gym for Sean. Nonetheless, no matter how hard he trained he never managed to lose his bowel control as well, which was just as well, thought his acolytes. Pale now and slightly faint, Sean lowered the barbell. His acolytes had to pry the empty barbell from his whitened palms because Sean concentrated so thoroughly on keeping a grip on the barbell in curling his arms, his fingers had become frozen on the barbell. Sean then tried to hit a double-bi pose. He discovered he could not. He could in fact, barely move them above the horizontal, so pumped were his arms they were losing function. `'Zen, Sean, you have reached the Zen of muscledom.'' Said his Coach. Sean nodded, for he could barely speak. Even nodding was now an effort in view of how pumped his neck muscles were. `'But you must now go beyond Zen.'' Said the Coach. Sean nodded further. He knew he now had to curl his arms without barbells. This was the final journey `'beyond failure'', attained only after great sacrifice, pain and privations. Again screwing up his face into a rictus of concentration, Sean directed his iron will commanding one, then the other, arm to lift. Lift! Lift and curl, dammit! Lift and curl, dammit! Sean was now curling nothing but the weight of his own enormous arms, but this was the most difficult part of the day. With great agony, each arm trembled and jerked as Sean willed them to rise in a curl. The gym crowd broke into a chant `'Sean! Sean! Sean! Sean! Sean!`' to encourage Sean on this last leg of his journey. Face now almost white, fingers crooked and unworkable anymore, biceps the size of footballs pumped to bursting point, muscles now almost a dark purple hue, veins a-popping like sausages inflated with helium, Sean curled one arm then the other. First left, then right, then left, then right, Sean was totally unforgiving and relentless on himself. His muscles almost disappeared under a profusion of veins now almost as large as plumbing pipes. His muscle's definition all lost in a glory of super-tight, uber-intensive pump. Finally, Sean could not move his arms anymore. He could neither curl them unladened, nor strike any bicep pose. They have been pumped to their physical limits, inflated almost beyond human endurance into utter abject failure. Sean has arrived. He has reached the other shore of `'beyond failure'', the nadir of muscular exhaustion and the Valhalla of explosive growtn. Instead of arms, he now possessed these two purple-colored bolster- like organs that sticks out from the side of his body at 45 degress from the vertical. His entire upper body torso was also pumped into literally a welter of criss-crossing sausage-like veins, purple hoses festooned over red-looking bulbous meat. Sean is the very image of the extreme obesity of solid muscularity. Everyone in the gym were now struck speechless, all felt that they were in the presence of divinity, muscular divinity, of Jupiter and Mars and Apollo personified and materialized in the bloated possessed human flesh born in the name of Sean. With a groan Sean began to fall backwards as his consciousness fades. His acolytes immediately went forward to catch him and prevent him from injuring himself. They quickly brought him to the gym shower and sat him down on a concrete bench (Sean weighed 435lbs !). Sean could not move his arms at all so his acolytes had to cut the training shirt and trunks off him, and peel them off.
  5. This was on the other site but I've slowly been porting my stories over to here. It's a hetero story, so avert your eyes if need be. “There. Him. Pull over,” Erica pointed at the skater-boi cruising along the sidewalk. He was moving. The quite rumble of his skateboard’s wheels punctured rhythmically by the swish of his foot touching the ground and powering him on. He was young. 18? 19?. And shirtless. His shorts sagging around his waist. Drawing up on him from behind, she could see the tops of his gluteus muscles forming a tight v and showing the curve of his ass as they flexed and unflexed with his movement. As the car pulled up beside him he stopped and turned towards it. His body was young and wiry rather than muscular. But he still had tight lean pectoral muscles and a six-pack that reflected a body with barely an ounce of fat on it. She rolled down her window and beckoned him over. “You look like you’re hot. Would you like a lift?” He was clearly hot. His skin glistened with sweat and he smelled. Not bad, but the earthy smell of fresh sweat on clean skin. He reached up to brush his long shaggy brown hair out of his brown eyes. She could see the damp dark hair of his armpit pressed against his skin, the cording of his back muscles as he moved. And then he smiled at her and leaned against her window, stretching out his body catlike. “Why would I want to get in a car with an old lady like you?” He asked, sneering at her. “What do you have to offer me?” She didn’t miss a beat. Instead she leaned back so that her breasts rose out in front of her, contained, but only barely, in a tight fitting red dress. She wasn’t a model. She was 34 and hints of her age touched the corners of her eyes. But she took care of herself. She was fit. Her blonde hair fell flawlessly to her shoulders. At 5’7” she was only an inch shorter than him and in heels she’d have an easy two inches over him. “What do I have to offer,” She asked stretching her arms out to lean back on the leather upholstery of the limousine. “Everything. And I’m sure you have something to offer me.” He got in, oh there was a few words more of the back and forth, but the end was never in doubt. The driver rolled his eyes as he pulled away from the curb. The exchange was a conceit. The two had met over a month ago in exactly this way. But since then, every day or two, the scene had repeated itself. A prequel for what was to follow. Decadence. That’s what her friends called it when they found out and they had found out almost immediately. He’s barely legal they had said. Are you paying him? This is what happens when you have more money then you know what to do with. It was true. All of it. Decadence. The ability to be decadent had to be earned first. Erica was no silly bimbo. She was brilliant. She had inherited wealth, but a nose for business and investments had turned it into a fortune. She ran her own investment company and had been dubbed the Oracle of LA by the media a few years ago for her ability to sense what was going to generate money and when. She had cash to burn and as she settled into her mid 30s she decided to do exactly that. Oh, she didn’t turn her back on her work, but she turned her back on denying herself the things she wanted. She indulged in wine. She indulged in food. Her 120 pound aerobic fit body had slid up to 130. And when she had seen that skaterboi sliding down the street the first time she knew she wanted him. He’d caught her staring at her when she was at a stoplight, with her windows down. It was the moment when youthful insolence collided with decadence. He’d laughed at her when she had asked if he was a gigolo. It was a delightfully archaic term. “I prefer the term man-whore, you’re not a gigolo until you find someone worth going back to a second time.” But there was a hint of a challenge in that sneer. A dare. “Would you be worth a second trip?” “You insolent little…” but she couldn’t hold the anger because he kept that cheeky grin on the entire time. “Alright,” she said. “Get in the car. Let’s see what you’ve got.” As it turned out, after a wild night that included multiple bottles of wine, the little punk was as good as his word. He walked out the next morning, set his skateboard down on the sidewalk, gave it two pumps and was off. And from there, they had settled into a routine. At first she had picked him up. But eventually, he had started showing up on his own. Never completely unannounced, but sometimes early. Some times late. Sometimes she found him in her bed waiting for her. The staff knew to let him in. She liked him. She liked his insolence. He wasn’t cowed like every other man she encountered. Or worse, he wasn’t pretending adoration while calculating what he could get out of her. He was exactly what he seemed, a cocky youth; still convinced that youth and a hard cock made him the king of the world. He liked to call her Venus, his fertility goddess. She countered that if she was going to be a fertility goddess, he was going to be the male equivalent. A Priapus, He let out a rare giggle when she said that. His name was Jordan, or Jayden. It would be a year before she finally got it out of him. She called him Jay. He was Latino, on his father’s side. He never knew the man. His mother was Scottish (“of all things,” he had said when they’d finally discussed their parents). He was, to begin with, a compact 5’8” with a thin, tight 29 inch waist. . He had a six-pack but it wasn’t the tightly muscled abs of a body builder. No. This was wiry frame of a skaterboi. Being active and constantly on the move kept him taut. His face was pretty. That was the best word for it. Flawlessly perfect skin that had managed to clear the potentially rough road of puberty untouched and hadn’t been touched by any of the imperfections of age. He looked perpetually tanned, a gift from his father. Too young to be handsome, the edges of his face still had the softness of youth. His smile pulled in a sneer that would have left lines on an older face, but on his portrayed nothing but the delightful cocky arrogance of youth. Insolence. Life would eventually beat that insolence out of him, soften it, or turn it into something nastier. The future was still open to all possibilities. His cock was seven inches long, as lean as he was, and he could go from soft to rock hard in an instant. “C’mere you,” she reached over and grabbed him by his waist band, feeling the soft silk of the hair that grew from his groin to his navel as her fingers curled down into his shorts and then pulled him close. She liked it when he skateboarded over. It was a mile from the bus stop and his youthful body was slick with sweat when he arrived. *** “You’re getting fatter, Venus. More fertile.” He had told her that two months into the … relationship. It was true. She had put on 15 pounds since she had met him. It was if taking him on as a lover had opened the final floodgates to self-indulgence. At 145 she was not fat. But she was curvy. She was struggling to fit into what had once been her favourite dresses. Intellectually, she knew it was the cakes and sweats and drinks that filled the sexual hunger when he wasn’t around. But when he was laying next to her or thrusting into her with his tight body it was almost as if she could feel her body expanding to reflect the indulgence, the decadence of the relationship. He liked it. She knew he liked it. Like her, he credited himself with her slowly growing body. He had tracked her growth pound by pound and knew that it was her lust for him that was filling her stomach as surely as he filled her when he came. He wanted to see how large that lust would grow. She was dominant in the relationship. She could shut off their time together like a tap. He knew too, that she wouldn’t be his patsy. He couldn’t steal from her. She wouldn’t let herself be used by him. He knew that. But she couldn’t stop the feeling of indulgence that he had created, the hunger. That was his power. And like her, it felt like she was swelling beneath him as he ran his hands across her once B, now C cup and still growing breasts. The social forbiddennes of their relationship reshaped her. She was growing, rapidly. But she had smiled at him when he had noted her weight and replied: “You’re growing too.” It was true. With a steady … income … he had bought a gym membership and started working out regularly. Not slavishly, but regularly. He’d started eating better. The results were not dramatic, but they showed. His abs owed a little more to muscularity than simply lack of body fat. His shoulders were rounder. His pecs a little fuller. You would barely notice it to look at him, but she could feel the changes when they made love. A spare 125 pounds when they had met he had added another ten and he was even a little taller. *** He smiled coyly at her and then sat down on her lap facing her, his muscular legs wrapped on either side of her thickening waist and his hard cock was squeezed against her soft stomach. He thrust slightly as they made contact, involuntarily, and then holding up the grapes he let her bite them off the vine one by one. At some point, food had infiltrated their meetings. He had brought some cut pieces of watermelon one day, smiled, seductively ate a piece in front of her, and then offered one to her. She had licked her lips and opened her mouth. It was a tacit recognition that she was growing and that he knew he was a part of it and that he was enjoying this power that came from their encounters. From then on every sexual encounter included at least a little food, perhaps as foreplay, chocolates fed to her one by one, perhaps during—he spread chocolate sauce across his chest and let her lick it off—perhaps afterwards and never an excessive amount. Never gorging. But the results were insidious all the same. Food became part of sex for her and sex became part of food. Every bite she took brought memories of his touch and their moments together. Eating lunch at the office would leave a smile on her face. Snacking on dainties all afternoon left her feeling warm. He’d whispered in the ear of Jansiea, her housekeeper, to have a seamstress update her wardrobe and she had passed 160 pounds without even realizing it. But quid pro quo. If she was no longer going to be thin, he was no longer going to be a wiry skaterboi. She started feeding him too. That too became part of their love-making; but where she was fed sweets, and fruits and felt her body growing in response, he was fed meat and protein, creatine and glutamine; she turned her pantry into a pharmacy of supplements. If he tipped her head back and fed her chocolates during their love-making, she tipped a protein shake to his mouth and laughed when some escaped and trickled down his chin. Once erratic trips to the gym turned into a twice daily routine. He usually went out, but an underutilized gym in her own palatial home was filled with equipment for his use. When he worked out there she would come in and wrap her arms around his sweaty body and feel his swollen muscles growing with her help. And the body of the skaterboi slowly grew into a thicker swimmer’s build. No steroids. By mutual consent. She wouldn’t offer them. He wouldn’t take them. She wasn’t trying to create a monster and he didn’t want to be one. But even without them, he grew more muscular, just as she grew heavier. If she had slid past 160 without noticing, he had hit 150 just the same and when he kissed her now he tilted his head down slightly to do it.
  6. Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6 Parts 7-9 One month saw Dan a transformed man. Puberty had struck, hard. Dan’s last growth spurt had left him five inches taller, but thin and gangly. This time, spurred by his superhuman levels of testosterone and fuckton calorie intake, he had just exploded. He was 5’9”, 135 lbs to start. He was now 6’1” and 220 lbs, up eighty-five pounds and bigger than Gordon. His hair had grown back a little, rough and bristly but still short, tapering to a point on his forehead and bleached light brown by the summer sun. His face had squared out, losing some baby fat and his jawline had been reinforced with heavy stubble which now extended the line of his sideburns down his cheeks, jaw and chin and connected with a light moustache upon his lip. He was trying to grow a beard like his father’s, who he idolized in every way. Every day he took his measurements, comparing them to Bruce’s and desperately praying that he’d catch up. Even in this past month, Bruce had continued his progress and his stats dwarfed Dan’s: twenty-four inch arms to nineteen, 300 pounds even to 220. When Bruce had reached 300 pounds he had cut himself loose, talking up every woman in the street who dared turned her head, seducing them and one by one fucking their brains out until they were shivering, squealing heaps on the ground. Still unsatisfied and restless, he had knocked on Mr. Connor’s door and they had spent hours wrestling, pressing the vast surfaces of their muscles together and providing each other the exertion that no one else in town could properly offer them. Naked in front of the mirror, Dan inspected the changes to his body, his previous life as Samuel a distant dream overrun by the constant rush of aggression that eternally infused every cell in his brain. He had a proud chest, the upper and lower pectorals split by a strict line of definition, protruding enough that he derived pleasure from rubbing them against surfaces without any of the rest of his body touching. His neck, traps and shoulders had filled out the massive gaps that had been there before, which along with his squaring jaw gave a sense of intimidating denseness to his silhouette. He was twice as broad as he was a month ago, his rounded shoulders and bulging arms pushed out by the spread of his corded lateral muscles. His wrists spoke of massive bone growth, having grown to a thick eight inches from six before. He ran his hand down his washboard abs, feeling his fingers patter along the mounds until they were stopped by his erect cock. He drummed his fingers down his member, as if casting a spell that would cause it to grow further than it already had. Seven inches wasn’t big enough for him, but he was confident that the growth hadn’t ended. After all, his feet had dramatically expanded, from size 10 to size 16, and he knew the saying about big in the shoes. There was a knock at the door. Dan put on some pants and opened. Outside, blocking nearly the entirety of the frame of the door, was Mr. Connors. Mr. Connors ran his rough hands down Dan’s sides, his thumbs tracing the bottom of his pecs. He took a hand and pressed on Dan’s shoulder, feeling the padding, and then slid down, feeling the rock hard muscles of his arms. He huffed in approval . “Time to learn some football?” “Yes, sir.” Dan followed him out the door and just behind him, was Gordon. A rush of memories came back momentarily, but Dan’s confidence in his new body was unshakeable. He held his head up and strode out proudly. “Who’s this, dad?” Gordon asked, “He ain’t from around here.” “A new teammate, now no more questions, boy.” Dan walked right up close to Gordon and they sized each other up, face to face. Dan realized that Gordon had been doing some growing of his own. In the past month, Gordon had grown two inches, which Dan noted with satisfaction meant that he was now two inches taller. But the jock had grown laterally into his frame, looking less now like the proportionate hunk he was before but rather starting to look more juiced up and massive like his father. He had put on perhaps fifteen pounds, mostly in his upper body, making him thicker than before, and with all that extra weight spread on a shorter frame, he looked hulking in comparison to Dan. Dan had thought he had surpassed his once-tormentor, but now he realized furiously that he was still smaller and he was filled with a bitter, driving dissatisfaction. He felt the craving rising up within him, the hunger for more, the drive to be bigger, better. “Alright, Dan, time to learn how to tackle.” Dan had known that Gordon was the star quarterback on the team, but what he hadn’t realized before was that Gordon was known particularly for his unstoppable rushing. His throwing arm was real good, but using his big frame and power, Gordon would smash through the enemy’s defense and it would take several guys to take him down. This is the man Dan would have to practice tackling. For hours they drilled on end, with Gordon, ball in arm, charging straight forward and Dan trying to block him, Mr. Connors shouting advice from the side and sometimes demonstrated what to do, but Gordon was unstoppable. Dan knew what the problem was. He wasn’t big enough. Even just ten pounds lighter, he felt puny compared to Gordon, and he wouldn’t be able to stop him until he was the one dwarfing him. He tensed his arms, as he lowered into the partial squat ready position, feeling what power he had. It wasn’t enough. He would get better at tackling and running along with his progress on the iron. Seeing the fiery ambition in the eyes of his new recruit, Mr. Connors smiled in satisfaction. He had a new linebacker. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Late August arrived, along with football tryouts. A fierce pleasure erupted in Dan as he realized that he was the biggest guy there. He had outpaced Gordon in every way since they had started working out together, growing three inches taller and packing on forty pounds of muscle onto his frame to Gordon’s one inch and ten extra pounds. They were buddies now, a friendship forged by rivalry, by ramming into one another over and over like bulls. Dan though, was emerging as the clear winner. He could now stop Gordon, easily. Dan had become overwhelming strong, fueled by the determination to beat each and every one of Gordon’s personal records. Bench press: 405 lbs (to Gordon’s 385) Rows: 375 lbs (to 335) Overhead press: 245 lbs (to 215) Squat: 535 lbs (to 405) Deadlift: 705 lbs (to 465) Pull-ups: 15 (3 plates added) As Dan stepped on the field, he heard whispers all around him, rumours of where the monstrous Dan Davidson had come from. Some said he was a twenty-two year old undercover cop. Some said he was the pinnacle result of seventy years of secret Soviet eugenics. Dan paid them no attention. He was here to dominate each and every one of them on the field. He finished tryouts leaving several of the football team’s seniors lying flat on the ground wondering what had happened. He went over to Gordon, who was standing next to a similar pile. No one save Dan had come close to stopping a rush from Gordon, and Dan could hold three guys on the line by himself, laughing mad at his strength all the while. By the end of the week Dan had earned the nickname “The Great Wall,” cementing his spot as the starting linebacker on the team. The team worshipped the ground he walked on, and his power and size had become the goal of every guy on the team. Those who hadn’t been juicing had taken it up eagerly, already seeing some results and loving it. To everyone, every day was now gym day. For junior year, Dan and Gordon had unleashed an unprecedentedly large and aggressive jock population upon their high school. When school started, Dan roamed the hallways like a lion. He took what he wanted, fucking girls, guys, teachers, even the principal, who soon divorced her pathetic beta of a husband and dedicated herself as a slave to Dan’s every whim. As a result, his will in school was law, and he was judge, jury and enforcer. He would grab puny little geeks by the collar and whisper into their ear, “You like the feeling of power?” He would then rub them over his muscles, wrapping their whole bodies around his bulging, monstrous pecs and feeling for their dicks to inevitably rise. Then he’d roar in a thunderous bass, “Little fuckin’ faggot! This is fuckin’ power! Get a little bigger and maybe I’ll let you suck my cock,” and then slam them whimpering on the ground. A surprising number of them could later be found in the weight room, obsessively trying to push what little weight they could. Four months later, with Dan and Mr. Connors in charge, everything about the school had changed. With Gordon obliterating all defenses, Dan destroying any semblance of offense, and growing, hungry monsters filling every other position, the football team was now unmatched and crushed school after school. The team was central to the whole school and every single boy, desperate to join, worked out and juiced in the school’s gym, which now covered a third of the school grounds. Male students were now required to attend school shirtless, a policy eagerly taken to by all. Surrounded by something resembling peers, Dan thrived, growing bigger than ever. 6’5” and 305 pounds, his twenty-four inch arms pulsed with power, threatening to throttle anyone who dared challenge him. Bruce had grown extraordinarily rich, The Naked Butcher now serving as a front for the biggest steroids supplier in the United States, protected by hundreds of enormous, young, aggressive gang members willing to kill to secure their supply. A young thug sauntered into the shop, declaring he had news for Bruce. Bruce listened, dismissed him, and left, barking out instructions to scores of lackeys to cover for his absence. He then took off in his Hummer, heading over to the hospital. The desk clerk bowed to him in deference, before taking him to the ward where Lisa lay. Mr. Connors was already there. He held a baby boy, fourteen pounds, with a keen expression in his face. “This kid’ll grow up with no fuckin’ weakling bullshit. No prissy beta men tellin’ him he oughta be nice and serve others and be a general fuckin’ pussy. None of that holdin’ him back. We raise this kid as a man.” The baby reached out, grasped Bruce’s beard, and pulled with all its strength. A strange light filled Bruce’s eyes. He thought of the dozens, hundreds of women he and his son had filled with their potent seed. An army whose sole purpose was to grow strong and to acquire power. He felt the last vestige of the Bruce he once was, the gentle, kind, respectful soul, finally fade away to black. Power is Everything. “Fuck yeah.”
  7. TannerBradley

    growth-with-effort Father's Descent Parts 7-9

    Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6 Parts 10-11 On gear, Bruce’s growth was explosive. A month had passed, and he had put on forty-five pounds on the scale and another four inches on his arms. His face was broader, aptly supported by a thick corded neck and traps that wrapped around like a yoke. His shoulders were globes, leading both to the sinewy ridges of his back and to powerfully separated biceps and triceps. His crushing forearms were covered in veins leading down to his meaty hands, in which he handled the large slabs of meat that were not unlike his pecs. The ridges of his back were mirrored by the ridges of his obliques leading to cobblestone abs that were now fully developed. All of this lay on the solid trunk of his quads and butt, propelled by powerful bulging calves. None of his old clothes fit and so he had torn each and every one apart with his hands and had burned them in a huge pile. He worked out now in a wife beater and shorts, and that was all he wore around the house. Even when he went out all he would add would be a flannel button-up and jeans that could barely contain his new mass. He buzzed his hair and gave up shaving altogether, choosing instead to keep a minimally kempt short beard. The meat shop, no, butcher shop as he now insisted it be called, was doing better than ever. Women and some men from all over town flocked over to chat and with a little flex here and a pec bounce there and they could be persuaded to buy almost anything. Samuel was pretty sure his father hadn’t slept with any of them but it was hard to tell, it certainly seemed like he was tempted. Ever since he realized that on steroids he no longer needed rest days, every day was workout day. Bruce pretty much just ate, fucked Vena and worked out all day. That suited Lisa just fine, who had started to show some signs of pregnancy. Her bouts with Mr. Connors were becoming less frequent as a result, but they still happened several times a week and miraculously Mr. Connors and Bruce had still never had a confrontation. Bruce was easily bigger than Gordon now. He was 245 pounds to Gordon’s 215, and Samuel had taken the chance and spied on one of Gordon’s training sessions once more. It turns out he skipped leg day every so often and his lower body wasn’t as developed. Still, Gordon was damn strong: Bench press: 320 lbs Rows: 275 lbs Overhead press: 155 lbs Squat: 315 lbs Deadlift: 375 lbs Pull-ups: 15 (1 plate added) Even Bruce couldn’t match that bench press number, but otherwise he was stronger: Bench press: 295 lbs Rows: 285 lbs Overhead press: 175 lbs Squat: 405 lbs Deadlift: 455 lbs Pull-ups: 17 (1 plate added) Any notion Samuel had that his father would solve his bullying problems had been long since shattered however. He tried to bring it up but Bruce had just snarled with contempt. “You’re your own man, aren’t you? Solve your own fuckin’ problems.” In fact, Bruce barely took any notice of Samuel at all. The bigger, stronger, and better he grew, the more he saw his son for the weak pathetic brat he was. Samuel had been to the basement many times, but the idea of him taking up weights was so incongruent to his sense of self that he couldn’t even bear to pick anything up. The one thing he could look forward to was that the school year was coming to an end. In just three weeks he wouldn’t be forced to go to the den of the bullies and he could spend time alone, away from everyone. That night, he heard the first altercation from his parents for the first time since everything began. He couldn’t hear much more than the low rumble of his father’s voice and a growingly insistent vocalization from his mother, so he snuck closer, staying behind the wall next to the door. “Mmm, Bruce, you know I want to, so fucking bad, but no.” A growl from his father, “Fuck it, cunt. What’s it to him?” He slid his large hands over to cup her breasts, then ran them down her midsection. With two thick fingers he began to rub her clit rhythmically. There was a moan of pleasure from Lisa, but then the sound of her rolling away. “You’re so damn sexy now,” she admitted, breathing heavily, “but he’s still bigger than you, Bruce, way bigger. I serve him now, not you.” Bruce gave a murmur of displeasure, “Rolf and I are gonna have a little talkin’ to.” The following afternoon, Bruce came home to find himself face to face with Mr. Connors. The man was, as always, in his coach’s suit, tightly fitted, every line of the suit stretched along the ridges of his awesome muscles, broadening their lines even further. Bruce stepped right up to his face, using his inch of height to look down on him, but Samuel could see the difference, a sixty pound difference. His father was strong now but Rolf Connors, that man was a brick shithouse. Bruce unbuttoned his flannel, throwing it down to the side. In acknowledgement, Mr. Connors shrugged off his suit jacket. Bruce removed his wife beater, exposing his bare chest and the ripples of muscle underneath. Mr. Connors smiled and obliged. He flexed into a most muscular, popping the buttons of his Oxford shirt and shredding it to tatters. Samuel was transfixed. The football coach’s shoulders were absolute boulders, their size matched only by his powerful pecs, which twitched explosively every time he moved his enormous python arms. His abs weren’t developed in the same way as Bruce’s, instead faintly outlining a muscle gut on a waist solid enough to be worthy of his nickname “Immovable.” Bruce swung first, with a right hook to the face. It hit Mr. Connors square on the cheekbone. He recoiled a bit, surprised at the force behind the swing, before taking a swing of his own. Bruce was faster though, and managed to dodge underneath. He spun around, landing a fist right into Mr. Connors’ midsection, but his fist hit a rock hard wall. He shook out his throbbing hand, and then deftly stepped back, but this time Mr. Connors was ready for him. The mustachioed man grabbed Bruce from under his arms, hoisting him up and lifting him above his head, and then threw him hard to the ground. Bruce rolled as he hit the floor, then leaped from the floor with a resounding uppercut to the jaw. Mr. Connors gave a grunt of pain, but was otherwise unmoved. Bruce, seeing how little damage he had done, stopped, and was quiet for a moment. Then, he began laughing heartily. Surprisingly, Mr. Connors joined in, and the rumble of both their voices shook the house, harder and harder. “Fuck man, Immovable, huh?” “Your throw a solid punch, Davidson.” Mr. Connors slapped Bruce on the back, and then both men shook hands in mutual respect. Bruce opened the front door and gestured outwards, and they waltzed out together like old friends. “Who’s yer dealer? Mine does most of the football team but had never heard of you. I’d been wonderin’.” “Fuck, just some dealer on the internet. Just did a little research is all.” “You gotta try this guy man. He deals some quality shit. Quality shit I tell you.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- With Mr. Connor’s steroids coursing through his body, Bruce’s progress renewed with vigour. By the end of the school year, he had put on another forty pounds, putting him at 285. He had put another three inches on his arms, up to a total of twenty-three inches, but the biggest difference of all lay in his strength. Samuel’s notebook read: Bench press: 385 lbs Rows: 355 lbs Overhead press: 225 lbs Squat: 515 lbs Deadlift: 565 lbs Pull-ups: 12 (3 plates added) The numbers boggled Samuel’s mind. He was sure his father could take Mr. Connors in a fight now, and he just dwarfed Gordon. Not that this would ever happen now. To his horror, Mr. Connors and his father had become fast friends, buddies even. They often worked out together and played football with Gordon in their free time. Bruce had ditched a layer of clothing altogether with the warming weather. Any time he spent with a shirt at all was in one of his wife beaters, now stretched to extremes accommodating his ever expanding muscles. The rest of the time, while at home or walking about or on sprints, Bruce remained shirtless. He’d also been experimenting with other body modifications. He got a tattoo on his bicep and another on the opposite deltoid. The first was barbed wire for flexing at the butcher shop, the second was a skull and two barbells with the words “Power is Everything” inked indelibly underneath. He had bleached his chestnut hair and beard blonde, looking now like a bearded twin of Mr. Connors. The two shared Lisa, taking turns with her or even fucking her together in orgies with other hot ladies from the shop. Lisa, having now not one but two massive muscle masters to serve, was catatonic with pleasure. Mr. Connors, being a physical education teacher at the end of the year with little to do, often came to the shop, now called “The Naked Butcher,” and the two of them would shoot the shit. They would take turns bringing clients to the office out back and fucking the lights out of them. Samuel couldn’t imagine his life more ruined than this. He headed out past both of them in the living room desperate to get out alone and find some peace, but Mr. Connors called out: “Samuel.” Samuel froze like a deer in headlights. This was practically the first time they had noticed him altogether. He was like an ant to them. Even his father was now more than twice his size. “Samuel. Why the fuck do ye call him that? Samuel sounds weak. Dan sounds strong. If we want to change him we oughta stop referring to him with a pussy name.” “Dan it is then. Fuck me. What’re we gonna do with him?” “Bruce, I respect ye, but yer son is the puniest sorry sack of shit I’ve ever laid my fuckin’ eyes on. Lay down the law. That’s what I did with Gordon and look at him now. He’s a taker. He takes what he wants and gives no fucks. Once the new baby is born, do ye want him to outgrow Dan? Cut his hair. He looks like that Bieber girl. Can’t have yer son lookin’ like a fuckin’ pussy like that.” “You’re fuckin’ right, mate. Dan.” “Yes dad?” “No more dad this, father that shit. Either ye man up enough to call me by my name proper or it’s sir to you, boy!” “Yes, sir.” “Now, while you’re in my house, there are no fuckin’ shirts. If I see ye in one, I’ll fuckin’ rip it to shreds, get me?” “Yes, sir.” Mr. Connors went off and the first thing Bruce did was grab a razor and buzz Dan’s hair real short. Dan sat, dazed, as he saw chestnut pile up all around him. He felt lightheaded, but all the same Bruce pushed him down dazed and confused into the basement. He was going to start straight away with the strength training. “Now, I’m going to watch you with just the bar. We don’t leave here until ye’ve performed everythin’ with the right form, perfect and to my fuckin’ standard. Bench first.” He lay on the bench, and Bruce placed his hands into the right grip. He unracked the bar and lowered it shakily to his chest and back. “Again.” He tried again. “Again.” This continued until Bruce was somewhat satisfied, and he continued in that fashion all the way to pull-ups. When he saw Dan couldn’t perform a single one, he spat in disgust. “Fuck, fine. Negatives for now then. Don’t know why I didn’t start ye earlier.” After the session, made a meal for them, one bigger than Dan had ever seen. Bruce wolfed down a metric ton as usual, but this time, he forced Dan to eat too. Plate after plate Dan would obediently finish, but after only four plates he started to feel sick. Bruce commanded him to keep eating but he couldn’t swallow one more bite. He tried to put the food but his gag reflex triggered and he threatened to vomit out everything he just put in. Annoyance flashed across his father’s face but he laid off for now. He ordered Dan to stay put while he went to the kitchen sink and pulled out an enormous vat of chocolate protein powder from underneath. He took some bananas and peanut butter and water and blended it all up, and then gave it to Dan. “Ye’ll be drinkin’ this the rest of the day. Three a day, until you can start eatin’ like a real man.” Far from being the relief he had desperately desired, the holidays now filled Dan with misery. He followed the four day schedule his father had started with, but far from progressing at the rapid rate Bruce had quickly maintained, his father made him drill with the bar over and over again, calling him pathetic when his shaky arms collapsed and he couldn’t continue on for the day. He felt sick from gorging himself with food all the time and shivered every time a breeze blew past his bare, thin chest. He tried several times in secret to put one on, to even just hold a shirt close to himself to cover up for warmth, when he knew Bruce was out for work. Every time, though, he was caught, and Bruce would menacingly tear his shirt to shreds with barely any effort. He was quickly running out of spares. Every morning he woke up with aching sores across his entire body. Every night, shivering and wrapped up in his sheets, he sobbed quietly. But the only response he got was, “Shit son, man the fuck up. I guarantee ye’ll look back one day and hate what a fuckin’ pussy you are now.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A week passed and finally the shaking stopped. Dan found that during the workouts the exertion gave him a sort of warmth that provided some relief, and on off days he had started doing push-ups and bodyweight squats to try to warm up whenever he could. He could now complete several reps with the bar with form that earned him a nod of approval from his father, who had decreed that he would start adding weight to his lifts. Dan had nearly passed out in fear. The next workout day Bruce called out to Dan, “Dan, time to workout. Addin’ weight today.” Dan gathered all his courage, and spoke one word. “No.” “What did ye say to me, little fucker?” Bruce brought his whole might to bear in front of Dan, his face narrowed with rage, his muscles tensing in anticipation of swift, decisive action. Dan watched his father’s chest contract, the cleavage of his pecs popping out, able to crush Dan’s wrist on their own. His padded shoulders dropped aggressively, rising and falling with his angry breaths. He slightly bent his knees, flexing the powerful pistons of his quads and calves. If Dan attempted to escape, he’d be flattened before he could take a step, “No… sir,” Dan squeaked, much more weakly this time, his courage ebbing away. Bruce growled and started for Dan, but he stopped and considered a moment. “Why?” “I-I’m… I’m scared,” Dan managed to sputter out. “Ha!” Bruce bellowed with satisfaction. “I know what’ll fix ye up.” He slung Dan roughly over his shoulder, knocking the wind out of him and went into the office. He retrieved a cardboard box from under the table, and Dan realized what was happening. He started to kick, to struggle, but he was smothered between engorged deltoid and forearm and was unable to escape. Bruce laughed in contempt as Dan’s feet pattered harmlessly on his well-padded back. He hoisted Dan over his head to switch him over to his left side, and then with his other hand prepared the syringe. “No,” Dan protested weakly. Bruce shifted his grip, pinning Dan’s upper arm into motionlessness. “No!” Dan cried. Bruce jabbed the syringe into Dan’s upper arm, releasing the contents into the flesh. “NOOOO!!!” At first Dan felt only soreness, a pulsing burning sensation localized in his shoulder, then, quickly, a surge of heat radiated down his arms and body. Emotions started to well up in him, jumbled and confused. Anger at his lot in life. An inexplicable, powerful, erotic horniness, a lust for strength and power. Confidence, as if he could do anything. He was Superman, he could walk through walls and sweep anyone out of his path. But the most overwhelming feeling of all was of aggression. He felt an overpowering need to channel force, to assert himself, to take action. He opened his eyes, finding himself with his back on the bench, and then he felt a very heavy weight dropping on him, pushing down on his chest and threatening to crush him. He could feel the roughness of the middle grip of the steel bar scraping on his bare chest. He exhaled forcefully and pushed upward. This was far more weight than he had ever handled in his life, and he could feel the resistance of gravity as he struggled upward, but he locked out fearlessly. There was not an ounce of fear left in his body. “One. Again.” An automatic reaction had been drilled into him over the past week. Without hesitation he lowered the bar, and pushed it up again. “Two.” Feeling the need to exert more effort, he grunted in that guttural almost-roar he remembered so vividly he dreamed about it at night. Yes, it felt easier. “Three.” And so he continued, struggling with each rep but locking out each time with a loud grunt of effort. For the last one he groaned long and hard as he slowly pushed upwards, exerting more force than he ever had before. Lock out. “Eight. Enough.” Dan racked the bar and jumped up, yelling in triumph and pumping his fists. It felt like an eternity before the next set. He couldn’t wait to do it again. It would be easier this time, he was sure of it. And so it was. Every time he completed a set, Bruce nodded in approval and Dan was filled with exultation. When all was done Dan was able to complete the whole routine: Bench press: 85 lbs Rows: 85 lbs Overhead press: 65 lbs Squat: 135 lbs Deadlift: 155 lbs Pull-ups: 5 He knew those were shameful numbers, but he had seen enough now that the anticipation of his rapid strength gains was enough to give him shivers. Bruce slapped him on the back. “Only one way to finish a workout like that, son. FUCK YEAH!” He bellowed. “Fuck yeah!” Dan bellowed back. “Louder! FUCK YEAH!” “FUCK YEAH! FUCK YEAH! FUCK YEAAHHHHH!”
  8. TannerBradley

    growth-with-effort Father's Descent Parts 4-6

    Parts 1-3 Parts 7-9 Parts 10-11 Monday came and Samuel left for school early. His mom was still sleeping and his dad was at work so he put together two pieces of toast, noticed that there weren’t any eggs left, and poured himself the last of the milk from the carton. Football practice was today, and he knew that they always started with weights in the morning in order to make time for drills in the evening. He wanted to go see for himself just how strong Gordon was. He got to the window of the weight room just in time, and his eyes bulged out as he saw bars loaded with plates. All of these guys were clearly monsters, but he zoomed onto Gordon who was trying to one up one of the senior linemen at the bench press. They kept on loading plate after plate onto the bar. Finally, on a particularly heavy set, the lineman’s eyes bulged and he wriggled mightily, but couldn’t push the bar up all the way. Gordon pumped himself up, doing a haka of sorts filled with flexing poses. He threw himself onto the bench and lifted up the bar, slowly after first, shaking, but finally exploding upwards into a lock out. He racked the weight, jumped up and ripped off his shirt, roaring in triumph and pulling a double bi, his arms, back and chest pumped to high heaven, exploding with power. Samuel held his breath and counted the weights on the bar. 1 plate, 2 plates, 3 plates! Gordon could bench a full 315 pounds! He took out his notebook. His dad had done 135 pounds. Almost two hundred pounds less. He was devastated. Mr. Connors was enormous. If Gordon had eighty pounds on Samuel, Mr. Connors had a further ninety pounds on Gordon. And where did that leave him in the mix? He struggled with just the bar. He continued watching Gordon, marking down all of his lifts: Bench press: 315 lbs Rows: 265 lbs Overhead press: 155 lbs But Gordon didn’t do all of the same lifts as his dad did. Samuel watched as Gordon curled dumbbells, barbells and cables in several different ways. Slowly, lovingly, squeezing his prodigious biceps with each rep. He tucked away the notebook in jacket. Maybe for now he’d just record the lifts that his dad did as well. He continued watching for a while, savouring the view as he watched each jock pump up his muscles just a little bit more, squeezing in a little more blood in order to grow and get - SMACK! Samuel was hit upside the head. Dazed, he looked up. It was Gordon. “What’re ya doing here, dweeb? Watchin’ the jocks get all pumped and sweaty? You a fag? A fag with a whore mother?” He put his arm across Samuel’s neck, his swollen bicep pressing hard into Samuel’s Adam’s apple. Samuel tried to make a sound but. He couldn’t. Breathe. RINGGGG! The school bell rung and Gordon released Samuel from his headlock. Samuel gasped. Sweet, sweet air rushed into his lungs, and the heat in his face started to flow away. “Hah! Know your place, dweeb! If you’re good, maybe I’ll let ya watch me bench some time!” That evening, Samuel was doing homework at the kitchen table when the door burst open. In came Bruce loaded with bags. Bruce winked at Samuel. “Thought our fridge was getting a little empty, so I brought back a little something from the shop. Help me get these in the fridge will you?” In the bags was three gallon jugs of milk, four dozen eggs and stacks upon stacks of meat of all kinds: sausages, bacon, steak, chuck, game, ground, and more. There was sweet potatoes, rice and some vegetables. These were in reasonable quantities but as Samuel unpacked them he kept on uncovering more meat to add to what was becoming an extremely stuffed fridge. When he was done he could already hear his father grunting away below. His heart fell as he remembered the numbers Gordon was putting up in comparison, but he went down to check on his dad anyway. To his surprise, there was more weight on the plate than last time. So quickly? Samuel took out his notebook as Bruce exploded with each rep, determination written all over. Bench press: 145 lbs Rows: 125 lbs Overhead press: 90 lbs Squat: 175 lbs Deadlift: 195 lbs Pull-ups: 7 Samuel’s heart filled with hope. His dad was still undeniably weak, but if he could get big, if he could get strong. Maybe, just maybe… That night, Samuel dreamed he was with his father, who was just the same as always: gentle, neat, unassuming. Jocks started surrounding them menacing, jeering, looming over them and threatening unimaginable pain, but Bruce threw away his glasses and ripped apart his clothes to reveal a Superman costume and a physique of rippling muscles. With a few swift punches, all the bullies were dealt with. And then, there was his mom, coming out demurely from behind a door. Unable to contain herself, she ran to her husband and threw herself at him. As he caught her, carrying her easily but gently with a single hand, she exclaimed proudly. “I’ll never leave you again! You’re the only one for me, my love!” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Two weeks passed and Samuel had been astounded by his dad’s progress. He had fallen into a solid routine, pumping iron on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays and going out for sprints on Tuesdays and Fridays. Sundays were his day off, just like his work schedule. Every workout Samuel recorded a gain on every lift Bruce did, and currently his numbers were at: Bench press: 185 lbs Rows: 155 lbs Overhead press: 115 lbs Squat: 245 lbs Deadlift: 275 lbs Pull-ups: 10 Every breakfast Bruce would stuff himself with eggs, bacon, sausage and oatmeal and every night roast chickens and steaks were devoured wholesale. He didn’t make big bluster about his progress, but he was obviously pleased and sometimes flexed his bicep and let Samuel feel it, his son longing to measure them and see how close his dream was to becoming a reality. One night he had brought his son over and had commented, “You know son, there is a lot to be said about strength. I’ve been re-evaluating my position on strength and technique and you know what? Maybe they’re complementary. A little brute force can make your technique go a longer way. I’ve been feeling great at the shop lately, everything’s just that little bit easier.” He was so pleased he started doing some bodyweight workouts in the mornings of his workout days. Quickly he was progressing to handstand push-ups, diamond push-ups, and trying a variety of pullups, chin-ups and the like. The morning workouts and huge breakfasts were taking a toll on Bruce’s morning routine, however, and he stopped parting his hair, choosing instead to run a comb through it quickly just to straighten it out a bit and he gave up shaving altogether on workout days. Samuel’s life, on the hand, had taken a turn for the worse. Almost daily he returned home to the low groan of Mr. Connors’ orgasm and now that the game was up his mother had made no more attempts to hide how much pleasure she took in making love to the powerful man. The ceiling practically shook every time Samuel opened the door. Each time Mr. Connors came down the stairs, saw Samuel on the couch with his notebook and textbooks, huffed in contempt and then stepped out. The day Mr. Connors didn’t come Lisa had sat on the couch, openly masturbating with a huge vibrator that Samuel suspected was representative of Mr. Connor’s cock, yelling at the top of her lungs. “Big! Big! BIG! HUGE! ENORMOUS! STRONG! OH! OH! POWER! OHHHHHHHH!” One time, there was even someone else. It was Mr. Peters, the defensive coach and also a massive man, 6 foot and 280 pounds, though with a gut. He and Mr. Connors came down the stairs loudly, laughing and slapping each other on the back. That time they didn’t even take notice of Samuel as they sauntered out the door, bantering energetically the whole time. Samuel had taken a peek inside his parent’s room, and sure enough his mother had been left lying naked in bed, delirious with pleasure. The bullying, too, had gotten worse. Gordon Connors sought him out daily with remarkably accurate re-enactments of the noises Samuel heard up in his parents’ room every day. Every jock that passed him by would pelvic thrust and act out a woman’s orgasm. What few friends, more acquaintances, he had avoided him entirely. He coped by retreating into his Superman fantasy at every possible moment and charting out his dad’s progress in his notebook. He was fascinated with the rate at which his dad grew stronger, and he spent a great deal of time charting it out and excitedly guessing where Bruce would be in a week, in a month, in a year. Samuel visited the shop on a Saturday and had seen a long black-haired woman there. Spying through the window, he could see that she was very busty, wearing low cut top and letting her long straight hair fall over them as she sat on the counter, her short skirt leaving a lot of leg on display. She kept trying to tease Bruce, trying to stroke his stubble and ruffle his hair and snatch away his glasses, but he was stoic and polite through it all. Finally she ran her fingers down his shoulder and onto his bicep feeling it for a moment then tracing down his rolled up sleeve onto his forearm. She said something to Bruce which actually incited a smile, before he composed himself and rolled down his sleeve. Finally, she dropped down from the counter and sashayed over to the door, which jingled merrily as she opened it. “I’m telling you, lose the glasses and keep the scruff. You’d look so fucking sexy.” She had then noticed Samuel at the door, and gestured at him. “While you’re at it, cut his hair. He looks a like a Bieber wannabe.” Samuel recoiled at the thought. His hair was getting a bit long, but he never wanted to be anything like. What? No one could even think- Not long after, however, Bruce bought a pair of contact lenses. That evening, he had spent an abnormal amount of time in front of the mirror, scratching his stubble, rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning his collar. That night too Samuel noticed that his dad had pushed out a couple more reps on each of his lifts. But Bruce let Lisa cut Samuel’s hair, just as usual, and she trimmed it absentmindedly, almost as if he wasn’t even there. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Samuel could tell that Bruce was starting to get obsessed. Twice a day, he weighed himself. It had been about five weeks now, and Bruce was pushing 195 pounds. “Gotta get to two hundred, five more pounds, just five more,” he had been growling to himself the past couple of days. He had bought himself a soft tape measure, and after every workout had started measuring his arms. Sixteen and a half inches was the last measurement, impressive by Samuel’s standard, but Samuel heard him mutter under his breath. “So close to seventeen, so close!” Samuel could barely contain his glee as he saw his father come down the stairs each morning, struggling to button up his shirt. Bruce had never subscribed to the new fashion of buying everything small, but unbeknownst to him it was starting to look that way. It never occurred to Bruce that he might need to buy up a size now and he was starting to fill his clothes nicely. There was a slight strain every time he moved that reminded Samuel of Gordon’s polo shirts, and Samuel froze, shivering ever so slightly in delight whenever he noticed it. He was pushing solid weight now, numbers that Samuel never dreamed his dad would be lifting: Bench press: 205 lbs Rows: 185 lbs Overhead press: 135 lbs Squat: 285 lbs Deadlift: 315 lbs Pull-ups: 15 His morning workouts were too getting impressive. He was now onto one-handed push-ups, pistol squats, or he would do push-ups with Samuel sitting on his back. There was one worrying trend, however. Over the past week, his progress had begun to slow. Sometimes, he wouldn’t be able to add weight for a couple of workouts in a row. Every time that happened, he doubled down and beat himself up. Samuel was getting a bit worried. After all, Gordon had to be making progress too, right? Bruce’s bench was still over a hundred pounds lighter than the jock’s. If his dad was slowing down so soon, he might never catch up. Samuel dared not spy on the weight room again to confirm his suspicions. After every workout now Bruce was in a terrible mood, muttering underneath his breath and checking his weight again. Still not two hundred. That Monday, Samuel watched as his dad tried 210 on the bench again. Bruce took a deep breath and cracked his neck. He lay on the bench, pressing his hands lightly on the bar in anticipation. Then, a mighty heave and he unracked the bar. He slowly lowered it onto his chest, touching lightly before pushing back out with all his strength. Slowly the bar went up, up, up… and then paused half way. He tensed up and tried to push again. It rose, but less than an inch. He struggled, pushing, pushing, his face turning red and sweat pooling on his chest but it still wouldn’t rise. Finally he growled. “Help- Sam!” Samuel ran over and helped his dad rerack the weight. “FUCK!” Bruce snarled, “Fuckin’ useless. Fuckin’ weak! Samuel, I’m fine. Go.” Samuel went up the stairs but sat at the top step. He heard his dad struggle some more with the other lifts, cursing every time. This wasn’t what he had imagined. Finally, Bruce came up the stairs, drenched in sweat, he shoulders rising and falling wildly and his eyes narrowed. “Get the fuck out of my way.” Samuel hurried to oblige, and Bruce went to his office and retrieved an unopened cardboard box. Samuel recognized it. The mysterious package had arrived in the mail just the day before. Bruce tore the box open and his eyes greedily scanning the contents. Inside there were rows and rows of vials, carefully packaged so as not to break. He took one out, shivering with longing and anticipation. “Finally. 200 will be in reach. Yes…” He took out a syringe, exposed his thigh and swabbed it with alcohol, drew the steroids from one of the vials, and then with one sharp thrust jabbed it into himself, his eyes wild and racing as if he could feel the surge of testosterone in him. He opened and closed his fist, tensing, and smiled at the feeling. Slowly he put everything away and made his way downstairs. Samuel followed behind, morbidly curious. Bruce limbered up for a bit, waiting for another surge of confidence and strength to well up within him, and then put 210 on the bench one more time. He unracked, and then down and up. Easy. Too easy. He was incredulous. He upped the weight to 225. This was more of a challenge, and he pushed out eight solid reps. He started laughing, laughing, madly, marvelling at how easy all this had become. By the end of the session, he had made a new personal record on every lift. Afterwards, he shook out his limbs restlessly, feeling he had more energy to burn. He had a realization and turned his attention to the dumbbells. Bruce then performed set after set of bicep curls. After each set, he’d throw the previous set down and pick up a heavier one. Finally, at eighty pounds, he stalled. Dropping the dumbbells, he punched a hole in the wall, roaring with untamed aggression. Samuel made a mental note to record everything in his notebook: Bench press: 225 lbs Rows: 205 lbs Overhead press: 145 lbs Squat: 315 lbs Deadlift: 365 lbs Pull-ups: 15 (weighted with 20 lbs between his knees) Bruce didn’t even bothering showering after his workout. He went straight for an enormous meal whereupon several pounds of steak were consumed, and spent the next hour shirtless in the mirror, weighing and measuring himself. Two hundred pounds, seventeen inch arms. The next day, Samuel went to the meat shop after school. He looked in the window. There was his father, unshaven even on an off day, his hair just casually tousled, his sleeves rolled up, with no tie. He was laughing, confident and assured. Beside him on the counter was Vena. Bruce flexed his bicep and she squealed, feeling it with both of her long pale hands and then using them to probe his broadening shoulders, developing traps and deepening chest. She lifted the bottom of his shirt and ran the back of her hand down the abs that were forming. She reached down his pants and rubbed his groin, running her fingers along his growing penis as she unbuttoned his pants and pulled it out. Then, she pushed him back roughly. Startled, he fell, but she grabbed his apron, pulling it off. As Bruce rose again she stopped him by kissing him squarely in the lips, trying to unbutton his shirt. Bruce stopped her hand, and in one swift motion he ripped his shirt off, casually tearing it in two and throwing it away like a rag. He then grabbed her head and guided it purposefully towards his member, his face brimming with lust and aggression. Samuel put his ear to the window. “Suck it bitch. You want this? Yeah. Suck my fuckin’ cock and don’t you dare spit out.” Vena passionately obliged and Bruce closed his eyes, revelling in the pleasure. He kissed his bicep, then made Vena kiss it too. “Power. Fuckin’ feel this. This is power. And I’m not going to stop. I’m gonna keep growin’. I’m gonna get bigger and stronger and you will love it. You keep comin’ to the butcher and I’ll keep givin’ you my meat.” Samuel dropped to the ground, conflicted. What about principles? What about the code every man should have? What about Superman? He rode home, trying to fit this new version of his father with the father of his daydreams but with every passing minute his dream grew dimmer, the new dark side Bruce growing sharper and clearer in his mind at its expense. By the time he arrived home, the mild-mannered man in his head was replaced by a scowling figure, and he realized he was afraid. He was afraid of his father. He opened the door, and sure enough there was rattling in the ceiling.
  9. TannerBradley

    growth-with-effort Father's Descent Parts 1-3

    Parts 4-6 Parts 7-9 Parts 10-11 Hey y'all. I'm a long time lurker here but the kind of stories I like can be few and far in between so I decided I better write some of my own. I finished this story before posting so it's all done but I think there's more impact if it's split into parts. I'm gonna be posting 3-4 at a time, for a total of 11 parts. Hope y'all enjoy. The bell rang and Samuel shuffled out the door with the purposeful scurry of a practiced avoider. It was incredible to him how every geek in every high school there ever was had the same tactics for bully avoidance. It was even more incredible how resoundingly unsuccessful these tactics had been. He could feel Gordon’s eyes burning into the back of his head, his lowered head that marked him as the vulnerable, skinny geek he was. Samuel glanced back furtively. He had broken one of the cardinal rules of bully avoidance, but he couldn’t help himself. Both Gordon and he were the same height, 5’9”, and both were sophomores, but that was where the similarities stopped. Gordon had a full eighty pounds on him and was one of those teenagers who somehow looked like he was in his mid-twenties. A perfect golden dusting of stubble framed his broad jaw and mouth, and he had short and wavy locks of that same wheat gold hue that fell casually around in his head. He had an easy confidence to his movements rather than the awkwardness that had followed so many teenagers into puberty. And he knew how to dress to show it off. When we wasn’t in his jersey, Gordon always wore a short-sleeved polo that was just tight enough to stretch just a tiny bit every time he moved his arm. Even in the winter, he was fond of showing off how even the cold couldn’t kill the pump of his round, full biceps. Samuel felt himself freeze. An onlooker might have registered his non-motion as fear, but he was transfixed. Part of him loved being hurt, roughed-up, manhandled by Gordon. He secretly loved watching the big almost-man asserting his dominance, and if it happened to him, well, that was just front-row tickets. But it hurt. And it hurt as he was lifted by his collar and slammed against the wall. He had been bruised enough to be able to anticipate the aching he’d feel all morning the next day, and he hated himself for how powerless he himself was. So weak and puny compared to the brash, bold, muscular specimen pinning him up. Gordon smirked. “Hey dweeb. Your mom’s a whore.” Whore? That was a new one, amazingly. It was odd that it hadn’t come up before but Samuel could hardly finish his- “She just loves the dick. BAM! BAM! Oh, oh, oooohhhhh! Take me! Take me!” God. Gordon wrinkled his brow mockingly but all it accomplished was further furrowing it into a look of aggression and power. Before he could finish that thought Samuel was thrown to the ground and Gordon sauntered off followed by his two beefy lapdogs, two fellow jocks who knew staying in his wake would provide them with amusement and ways of asserting their own dominance. “I guess I should go get myself checked out,” Samuel thought as he picked himself up and dragged himself to the nurse’s office. He was a regular there. Often he was fine, but he felt it was wise to make sure each time. This time however the school nurse was busy with a freshman who looked like he had badly burned himself. “Not today, Samuel,” she said with a sigh. Without even looking at him, she reached a hand down into a drawer, drew out a slip of paper, signed it and gave it to him. “Whatever it is, just go home and deal with it. I’ve got three boys who decided it’d be smart to play chicken with a Bunsen burner.” The excuse to skip class was not lost on Samuel, and within five minutes the slip was in the hands of the school office secretary and he was out on the street riding his bike home. As he pulled up to his front yard though, something was off. In the window of his parents’ room, he saw his mom’s hand pressing on the glass. It quivered, and then stretched out and pressed itself a little bit higher. He decided that he wasn’t going to announce his presence on arrival. He held the front doorknob tightly as he put in his key and muffled the sound as he turned the lock. With the tiniest click, it opened and he gingerly slipped in, making sure to keep the doorknob turned and slowly release it back into its latch. He stood still for a moment. There was movement upstairs, he could feel it. He tiptoed up the stairs and to the closed door of his parents’ room and placed his ear. To his horror, Gordon’s rendition of his mother was painfully accurate. “Take me! Take – OH!” He mentally calculated. His dad was a meat shop owner (not a butcher, he always insisted) and today was Wednesday. He wasn’t going to be home until eight at the earliest. “OOOOHHHH!!!” Samuel cringed. He heard a long deep moan of a man and realized what this meant. It meant that he most definitely certainly couldn’t be found just outside the door and that this particular door was going to be opening soon – very soon. He scattered backward, almost falling but managing to catch himself lightly with his fingertips before very quickly but very quietly sprinting down the stairs. He opened the door, thanking his stars that he hadn’t locked it when he had entered, slipped out, closed it, picked up the bike, and brought it behind the fence where no one could see him. It wasn’t long before he heard the front door open, and slam shut again. Heavy footsteps rang out on the pavement and Samuel hurriedly slung his leg over his bike to look as if he had just arrived. Out of the fence appeared a very large, very mustachioed wheat blonde man. Samuel recognized him right away, and was filled with a jumbled blend of fear and disgust. It was Mr. Connors, the football coach and Gordon’s father. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mr. Connors had played football in college. He was an offensive lineman and looked every inch the part. 6’1”, 305 pounds, with a thick solid midsection but an enormous barrel chest and thick trunk legs that had earned him the nickname “The Immovable.” His normally sleeked back hair was clearly roughed up and there was no mistaking the cause. Samuel shrunk back a little but Mr. Connors noticed out of the corner of his eye and soon Samuel had a mass of football coach bearing down upon him. “Boy. Why aren’t you in school?” “I- I-,” Samuel knew telling the whole truth wouldn’t end well for him. Mr. Connors was notoriously protective of the football team and especially his son. Any accusations slung their way would certainly come back to bite Samuel, “I wasn’t feeling well and the nurse sent me home.” Mr. Connors huffed disapprovingly, twitching his golden walrus mustache. “I had a note, I gave it to the office,” Samuel added weakly. Not gracing him with a reply, Mr. Connors walked past Samuel, patting him condescendingly on the shoulder as he passed by, the casual blow practically toppling him over. Samuel watched for a long time as he walked away, the ridges on his back rippling the fabric of his tight fitted suit. Dejected, he slouched back over to his house, bringing in his bike and this time making no furtive movements. He could hear the patter of the shower upstairs. Samuel thought back. The signs had all been there. A new Armani handbag here, some new Prada shoes there. And his mother had seemed so satisfied lately. He realized that there had been a difference to her. She took more care to look good, spent over an hour in the morning applying makeup. Of course… She came down the stairs and he noticed just how radiant she was. Red headed with long wavy hair, curvy and healthy, but with an athletic trim. People often wondered aloud how his dad had bagged her. She was indeed a real catch. And it all made sense now, at least in a perverse sort of way. But still, Gordon Connors had been right, his mother was a wh- Samuel couldn’t bring himself to say the word. How should he say it? She was… unfaithful. Right then and there, Samuel decided he had to tell his dad. His dad was his role model, who he had aspired to be all his life. Mild-mannered, with a gentle face hidden behind a pair of neatly placed glasses. His dad, Bruce Davidson, was handsome, but subservient. He was tall, at 6’2”, but wiry and thin and flat just the way Samuel was, maybe 170 pounds at the most. He kept his chestnut brown hair parted and he was always clean shaven, without a speck of hair on his face. At the meat shop he took great care, practically bending over backwards serving his clients, presenting himself formally in a tie and vest even underneath his apron. His hands were quick and skilled, and he proved time and time again that he could use technique and well-cared for tools to cut through even thick bone. In everything he taught Samuel that strength wasn’t needed. It had seemed to Samuel that his dad’s success had proven this but still, somehow, that hadn’t satisfied his mother. He pushed his way out the door, grabbed his bike and started pedalling to the meat shop. The bell jingled as Samuel stepped in the door. “Bruce Davidson’s Fine Cuts.” His dad glanced his way quickly and smiled at Samuel, appreciating his presence before holding up his hand to show him he was dealing with customers. It took nearly fifteen minutes but finally they were face to face and Samuel relayed everything that had happened since he had first seen the hand in the window. Bruce’s face fell slowly with each passing minute, but he was quiet the whole time. He only had one question at the end. “Mr. Connors. What is he like?” “Big dad. Real big. He’s not super tall but just so much size on him. He has Gordon’s hair colour and a walrus mustache and this real intimidating look to him that just bears you down. And his arms are just so thick and his back strains his jacket so that…” He trailed off, realizing he’d outed himself, but Bruce was no longer paying attention, instead lost in thought. He looked like he had come to an understanding. “Go home, Samuel. Let your mother know I’ll be home at 8 as usual.” All seemed normal for the rest of the evening, if awkward on Samuel’s part. He wanted to scream “How has nothing changed!?” but everyone was so calm. He couldn’t believe his dad. Maybe his dad was weak. Maybe his mother was taking advantage of a meek man who was destined only to be a provider. He was able to keep a stony face, however, and it wasn’t until he was in his bedsheets that he screamed silently into his pillow and fumed. He tossed and turned, but couldn’t get to sleep. Soon enough, elevated voices rose from downstairs and he snuck over to the stairs to hear what was going on. His dad’s normally soothing baritone was raised for the first time in years. “That’s who you want Lisa? You want someone powerful, someone strong? Is that what it takes to satisfy you!? You swore I was enough, that you were happy with me! We laughed at all the jocks, back then, don’t you remember? In college!” “I needed it, Bruce, I need him. He’s just so strong, so powerful, so BIG! When he took me, I realized that was what I was missing all my life. Yeah, he took me. You want honest communication Bruce? Here it is. I’m pregnant, Bruce, and it’s not your child. Our boy is a weakling. He’s mild and gets bullied and doesn’t even bother defending himself. It’s clear where he gets it from. I want my child, my new child to grow into a big strong man like Rolf. He just takes what he wants. He doesn’t live his life to serve others and that’s the man this child will be.” Stomping, and then the slam of the door. And there was nothing for Samuel to do but cry into his pillow. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Samuel was woken up by the slam of the door. He could hear the beeping of a backing up truck outside and then the voices of men working. There was clattering downstairs he groggily he wondered if his house was being demolished, and if so, couldn’t it wait until Monday. A splash of water to the face made him more alert and he tiptoed down the stairs to see what was going on. There was Bruce, looking dishevelled for the first time in his life. He was still in the same clothes he had worn the previous day and his hair’s part had fallen apart, restoring his hair’s natural tousle. For the first time, Samuel could make out a faint five-o’-clock shadow around his father’s jaw and cheeks. He and several other men were carrying a power rack, straining with the weight and ruddy-faced. They made for the stairs leading to the basement carelessly crashing into objects around the house along the way, and slowly but surely carried it all the way down the stairs. A crash downstairs, and then soon afterwards, they came again for an Olympic weight set. Set on trees were more plates than Samuel had ever seen, even in the school gym where the jocks practically lived. “Samuel? What’s happening?” Samuel jumped. Behind him was Lisa, his mother, yawning in her midnight blue cashmere housecoat. “What’s with all this racket? It’s 6 AM,” she added, annoyed, so loud her son jumped. Bruce came up the stairs, finished with his work and motioning for the men to leave. He stared for a long time into Lisa’s eyes, his face fierce with some kind of resolution. He then checked his watch. “Samuel, fetch me my comb, please. It’s time for me to go to work.” Samuel did as he was told, and Bruce, quickly combed his hair into a rough part, not quite as neatly as before, and staring the whole while into his wife’s eyes. The tension was palpable but for all his determination he broke first, dropping his comb onto the table by the TV, grabbing his apron and heading out the door. Lisa yawned again and went back upstairs. Having woken so early on a Saturday morning, Samuel let his curiosity get the better of him and looked into the basement. Down there, all of the junk had been pushed and stacked to the wall and in the clear space left was a magnificent powerlifting gym. There was several large bars, trees covered in plates from the tiny 2.5 pound ones up to 45s, red rubber plates and black steel plates. There was a power rack, a bench, flooring, and dumbbells up to 120 pounds lined up neatly in rows. Samuel tried to pick up a 45 pound plate and nearly dropped it. Gingerly he put it back and picked up the bar. He remembered watching the jocks do the bench press and he tried it. The bar felt heavy as he tried to push it up, but he made it, his arms shaking violently as he did. He was too scared to try any more though. This really wasn’t his thing. He jumped up to the bar of the power rack and tried to pull himself up. He heaved and kicked his legs but struggle as he might he couldn’t pull off a single one. He let go, landing lightly but hating himself for it. He had always been such a quiet little wimp. Not even all of this gear could change that, and he was certain it wouldn’t change his dad either. His mother was right, compared to Gordon and Mr. Connors, both of them were worthless. He couldn’t spend the whole day feeling sorry for himself, however. Having missed some classes there was a lot of make-up homework to do, and so Samuel lost himself in his studies while the day passed. Evening came with a slam of the door. He swiftly ran down, curious to see the state of his dad. He seemed to have cleaned up a little while he was at work. His hair was back in the neat part it was before, and his clothes seemed to have been smoothed over several times. Over the course of the day however, his scruff had grown out even more, outlining his features handsomely. He seemed out of sorts, but it was different from his expression that morning somehow. Noticing Samuel, he called out. “That lady with the long black hair, Vena. She couldn’t keep her hands off of my face! And making advances on me. As if I’d stoop to that level. Samuel, you’ve got to stay loyal to your loved ones. We men need to have a code, to have principles. Always remember that.” Samuel nodded vigorously and Bruce stepped past him making his way down into the basement. For a moment Samuel was reminded of the way Mr. Connors had pushed him by and walked away the day before, but he shook his head and rid his mind of it. His dad was nothing like that. Not long after, he heard grunting below. He snuck down, taking a peek at what was happening, and he was surprised at what he saw. Bruce’s face was a mask of fury, and he pulled every rep with what was practically a roar. It was anger, all rage, channelled into moving the bar up and down. He had stripped off his vest and button-up, having tossed them aside into an uncharacteristically messy heap while he worked out in only his undershirt and pants. Samuel had a small gasp of anticipation. Sweat shined from Bruce’s furrowed brow as he forcefully shifted the weights, roaring with effort. He carefully counted the plates on each of the exercises his dad did: Bench press: 135 lbs Rows: 115 lbs Overhead press: 85 lbs Squat: 155 lbs Deadlift: 175 lbs Pull-ups: 6 He made a mental note to check out what the jocks at school did. One last long growl as his dad pulled the bar from the ground one last time and dropped it. That was Samuel’s cue. He tiptoed up the stairs and pulled out the notebook he had been holding for school. He noted the weights of the lifts he had just seen, hoping his parents would think he was just doing some homework. “Hey there, hard at work?” Samuel snapped his book shut. There was Bruce, dripping with sweat, running from his now-messy hair down the side of his face and dripping from the scruff on his chin. He had work clothes in his arms. Samuel opened his mouth, thinking fast about what to reply, but there was no need. Bruce was already making his way upstairs and soon enough there were the sounds of the shower. Dinner came soon enough and Bruce was again clean-shaven and back to his impeccable self. A few words were exchanged about school and whatnot but Samuel had no intention of bringing up any of the uncomfortable events that had recently occurred, and it seemed the same for his mom, who continued with her meal in the same bored fashion she had spent the rest of her day. He finished his meal as he was always taught to do but then noticed that his dad’s plate was full. Hadn’t he been eating? He sat in silence watching Bruce finish one plate, and another. Lisa always made enough food to keep for leftovers in case anyone was hungry later, usually herself when she didn’t feel like cooking lunch. At the end there was nothing left, and to Samuel’s surprise, Bruce got up and went rummaging in the fridge. He eventually settled on the carton of milk, and poured himself two glasses to top off his large meal. “Thanks kindly for the meal, Lisa,” he remarked cheerfully, as he started doing the dishes. That evening, instead of sitting down on his reclining chair to read as usual, Bruce went to the computer and started browsing the internet. When it got late and Samuel headed up to bed he was still at it, intently looking at whatever it was he was looking at.
  10. cropsey23

    dominance Colin's Determination, Part 12

    The house was a wreck when we got inside. The communal bathrooms hadn't been updated in years, and the kitchen was barely functioning. As the team moved in to stake out their rooms, Colin and I retreated to the study. "Colin, this place is a disaster. Are you sure it's a good idea to move in here?" He put a hand on my shoulder, and I was immediately reassured. “I’m going to call Marcus’s father for help now.” Dan Cunitz was one of the most successful real estate developers in the state. He was also an alumnus of the school’s football team, and had been very generous to the school over the years. He had both the means and the resources to help rebuild the house. “Dan, we are going to need a complete rebuild of the bathrooms and kitchen, for starters. You WILL send over all the plumbing materials we need.” There was a pause as Dan spoke, then Colin replied: “No, not next week. Tomorrow. You will send the materials tomorrow.” I flinched a bit just overhearing Colin’s direct tone: Dan Cunitz had a well-deserved reputation as an aggressive, hard-nosed negotiator. I wasn’t sure this approach would work well with him. “You want to see what I can do with the team?” Colin said. With that, he barked at Jackson and me: “SHIRTS OFF!” Without hesitation, we obliged. I looked at Jackson and was impressed with his build. His shoulders seemed impossibly wide, with cannonball delts, a thick chest of armor, and a ripped 8-pack of abs. His biceps were huge and peaked, even while he was relaxed. He put his hands on his narrow hips and just casually flexed it all. Then he looked over and acknowledged me for the first time that day. With a blank look on his face, he put his huge hand on my neck and gave it a firm squeeze. He even reached over and slapped my hard midsection a few times, and said, “Colin did nice work on you, bro.” Even I was surprised at how my abs withstood his playful, but strong slaps. With that, Colin held up the phone, took some photos of us and sent them to Dan. I could only overhear pieces of Colin’s side of the conversation: “I can train Marcus…. In four weeks, he’ll be as big as my brother, in the photo…. at least that big, yes…. then eight weeks…. yes… 275lbs…. I know you are familiar with Jackson’s athletic record… Marcus has the potential to pass him. I know how to motivate that kind of growth, yes… but we’ll see how training goes, Marcus may not even be suited for baseball in a few months.” Did Colin just promise to have Marcus as big as me in four weeks? Bigger than Jackson in eight weeks? I knew better than to doubt him. And he had Mr. Cunitz eating out of the palm of his hand, which was probably the most impressive feat of all. There was another pause, and then I saw a knowing smile come across Colin’s face. “You can have it delivered today? That’s even better Danny-boy.” He was calling one of the most powerful men in the state Danny-boy. Even the university president addressed him as Mr. Cunitz. “Send over some staff to do the installation as well. Oh, and you’ll also have 600lbs of grass-fed beef shipped to the house each week. We need to eat well.” And in a deeper, much more authoritative tone, Colin concluded the call, while looking directly at a shirtless Jackson: “Let me know when you want to visit, I’m certain you will be pleased with the results.” Colin seemed to have an inside track on how to motivate Mr. Cunitz. Mr. Cunitz agreed to all of Colin’s demands. After the call, Colin summoned the entire team to the weight room, which was in an addition to the main house. The 6,000 square foot facility was stripped of most equipment, save for a 14-foot long pull-up rig, which was bolted to the concrete wall. “Good news. Marcus’s father has agreed to pay for the renovation of the house, which will start this afternoon. And, he will have the weight room fully functioning in a couple of days. But first we have to take down this rig.” “Colin, this rig is in perfectly good shape. It’s perfect for pull-ups, squats, and so much more. Why would you take it down?” I asked. “Jackson, show him.” Colin said. Jackson sauntered over to the rig, where the pull-up bar was eight feet off the ground. Staring right at Colin, he just reached his massive arms up and gripped the bar, with his feet planted firmly on the ground. “A pull up bar is no good if your feet can reach the ground,” Colin said, matter-of-factly. “Well not all of us have Jackson’s height, or wing span for that matter,” I interjected. “Not yet,” Colin said, with chilling confidence. “Take the rig down Jackson.” With his arms still extended overhead, Jackson tightened up all of his muscles and started to pull. At first, I thought the rig wouldn’t yield without more assistance, but Colin calmly coached Jackson: “Tighten up your core Jackson,” he said quietly. And we watched, breathlessly, as each of Jackson’s cobble stone abs activated, one by one, as he inhaled slowly, looking directly at Colin. “Now show me what those lats can do.” Jackson’s lats slowly started to flare out, as he inhaled, to immense proportions – much wider than anyone had ever seen. Colin gently placed a hand on Jackson’s upper back and softly said “That’s it Jackson, activate here now.” He started to exert all of his muscle, and after about a minute of silence, the rig started to creak. There was a loud groan coming from the concrete wall, as the iron bar started to yield to Jackson’s raw power. Jackson’s biceps, triceps and forearms were flexed up as well, showing his truly colossal muscle. The room was completely quiet except for the groaning of the rig, which steadily increased. I looked at the team, and everyone was riveted to this display of undisputed strength, most especially James, the power hitter. The cinderblock walls started to loosen, imperceptibly at first, but they slowly started to crumble. Then Colin said “NOW JACKSON, LATS!” and the whole rig separated from the concrete wall. Cinderblocks tumbled down onto the floor as each of the 16 wall fasteners popped off, sounding like gunfire, one by one. All that was left were the floor anchors. Jackson stood triumphantly under the crumpled rig, a stunning sight of 275lbs of raw muscle. His arms hung at his sides, pushed out by his still immensely flared back. His massive chest heaved slowly, as his breath started to return to normal. Jackson was about to deal with the floor anchors when James stepped forward and addressed Colin: “Let me take out the floor anchors. I want you to see what I’m capable of.” “You know the rule, James. Shirt off, and get to work.” Next to Jackson, James looked diminutive. But when he pulled the hem of his shirt over his head, he revealed a solid, dense build of 195lbs of power hitter muscle, and legs like a thoroughbred racehorse. James had a beefier build, and his neck and trap muscles were remarkable. He moved to the thick vertical bar that anchored the rig to the floor and gripped it. He got into a quarter squat, inhaled slowly and started to exert upward pull on the bar. At first, it seemed like an impossible task, since it was difficult for anyone to get leverage in that position. But after a few seconds, with James glutes completely fired up, the bar started to come up out of the cement floor. The bar continued to groan with resistance, but finally gave up. With one last immense rumble, the concrete floor started to crack, and then opened up and released the anchor, yielding to James’s coiled muscle. A glistening James smiled at Colin, knowing he had redeemed his stature on the team. The entire team was riveted to these two feats of inhuman strength. Colin’s training program was underway. The next two weeks were a complete blur. Marcus and I were sharing a room, and our schedule seemed to revolve around his workouts. When we weren't at the gym, we were planning his next sessions, or his diet. His earlier animosity towards me seemed to dissipate, and he had a newfound respect for me. His progress at the gym was impressive - slow, steady, deliberate. For a guy who barely weighed 145lbs, he was benching his body weight in no time. He seemed a bit apprehensive anytime we mentioned his father’s sponsorship of the team, but I was able to keep him focused on his regimen. Brendan and Jeremy had taken over the supervision of the overall team, and it was paying off. Their collective body weight had increased a remarkable 15% in the first few weeks. Brendan now tipped the scales at 210lbs, up from 180, and he had all but abandoned his dream of becoming a pro wide receiver. "Just too damn big for that," he said with a huge smile on his face. Jeremy was now up to 240lbs himself, easily one of the biggest guys in the house. He had all but tossed out his wardrobe, since he inexplicably grew taller. At 6 5, he walked around in tight shorts and whatever tank tops he could find. He spent his days happily coaching, eating and lifting. Jackson spent all of his time with Colin. For a guy we all remembered as a typical alpha-male athlete, his attitude had changed dramatically. He was entirely subjugated to Colin now: following him around 24/7, almost mindless in his devotion. Everywhere that Colin went, we were sure to see Jackson two steps behind him, and he would either be shirtless, in just shorts, training shoes and a backwards baseball cap, when he wasn't wearing a custom-made 150lb weight vest. Any verbal interaction we tried to have with Jackson was met with a blank look, since he now only communicated through Colin. After two weeks of intense training, he stood at 6 7, and weighed in at 325lbs of ripped muscle: the biggest and strongest athlete in the history of the university. And although he lost any ability to think for himself, his GPA had soared from a paltry 2.7 to a perfect 4.0. Then Colin got a call from Mr. Cunitz, who said he was coming to visit and wanted an update on his “investment.”
  11. The stale smell of sweat that constantly lingered in the air was like a trigger for Henry. After 8 months of avoiding the gym, he finally got his ass through those gym doors and committed to a membership. It didn't help that this gym in particular was in the basement of a building, but he had no excuse to avoid it since he lived down the street. He missed it. The hot gym rats obsessed with the pump, the tight clothes, the lack of clothes, the glimpses of swollen bodies in the change room, and that overwhelming gym aroma. As soon as he swung open the gym door, he was hooked again. Escaping the busy city streets with traffic noise, and entering the world of clanking iron weights, grunts of exhaustion and pure muscle growth. Henry always wanted to become massive. Ever since he was young growing teen, when he first saw bodybuilders in an Olympia book at the local book store. He was mesmerized by it. The seed was planted, and he knew he'd be huge some day. Henry didn't realize how fucking hard that would be. Now, standing at 5'10, 160lbs at 27 years old, he wasn't exactly the muscle freak he fantasized about. He had the typical excuse that life got in the way. First it was school, then work, then his dating life. His last boyfriend wasn't much of a fitness enthusiast, and Henry, being a creature of comfort, followed suit and avoided the gym. It didn't fit in with the life plan at the time. That all changed after a messy breakup. Tired of not looking after himself, and feeling misdirected, he always felt there was something missing - it had to be the gym. Every other aspect of his life seemed to be perfection to anyone on the outside looking in. He was a 20-something guy, living in the city, newly single and easy on the eyes. Henry just wasn't happy being skinny. That deep inner passion was finally being unearthed and he was listening to it. After a two weeks of lifting, Henry's early morning workout was becoming a routine. It was less busy at the gym in the morning, so he didn't feel as self-conscious while we got his footing with his workouts. The intense pain he felt was slowly subsiding day by day. His body scorched with pain for days after each workout, but he secretly loved it. He knew his body was responding to his growth plan, and it was worth it to see the results each day. It wasn't insane growth, but he noticed it. He started to become a gym regular. He was greeted by name as soon as he approached the front desk, he noticed a few regular early morning gym rats as well. He hadn't had the nerve to speak with anyone yet, it was easier to just keep to himself, but there were definitely a few guys who stood out. Maybe it was a matter of time until he became gym bros with them. There was one trainer in particular that stood out. Henry avoided getting a trainer, despite the aggressive efforts from the gym owner. Too much money, and he wanted to go at his own pace. But this trainer was hot as hell. Around 5'7", and easily 200lbs. He was the only trainer who trained early in the morning, always had a smile on his face, and was well aware of how pumped and swollen his body was. Henry kept a low profile and assumed he was under the radar and unnoticed the whole time, but could have sworn this trainer gave him a side glance a few times. Nothing more annoying the a gym induced crush - completely throws off the gaydar! Especially from a trainer! In any case it was motivation for Henry to get up every morning, with the hopes of seeing Pete the trainer. Henry never made any obvious effort to workout near Pete while he was training clients. The odd time though it would happen by chance. Usually Henry would turn down his earbuds and see if he could discretely listen in on his conversation. Keeping it casual so he didn't draw any attention to himself. On one specific morning Pete's client started a chat about drinking the night before, and Pete expressed his love for wine. Henry noticed how self conscious Pete became. His client, an uppity annoying middle-aged woman, was shocked by his response. WINE?! And Henry was shocked by HER response, thinking, what's wrong with wine?! Is wine gay? He laughed to himself. Well, he thought he laughed to himself. The muffled laughter was within earshot of Pete. For the first time Pete looked directly at Henry, and smirked. That of course was such a subtle insignificant signifier to make Henry's mind race for the rest of his workout - maybe Pete really is gay! Given his profession, the bro-culture, the muscle, the sweat, the client-base, maybe Pete's been on the down-low out of his own insecurity. It was driving Henry mad, but he wasn't about to outright ask Pete. A couple weeks went by. Henry kept to his routine as much as possible. Up early, get to the gym, maybe Pete is working. Most mornings he was. Made all the effort worthwhile when Henry saw Pete laughing and talking with a client in his tight white shirt, waddling around the gym. Leg day. Leg day is when everything changed, 6 weeks into Henry's secret muscle growth plan. He was in the squat rack, which happened to be near Pete and his client. Henry was just finishing up his last set, when Pete walked by. "Nice form", he said. HOLY SHIT. Henry's heart would have started racing if he wasn't already exhausted. Henry grabbed his towel, and wiped the sweat streaming down his forehead. "Thanks, I think I'm getting the hang of it", said Henry. "Well, if you ever need any pointers flag me down anytime, I can tell you have a lot of potential. Would be good to see you get the most out of your workout", said Pete. "Ah, thanks man, really appreciate it but I can't afford a trainer right now. Thanks for the compliment though", said Henry. Pete laughed, "Free of charge buddy, I don't charge unless it's a full session, you've seriously got a frame to get freaky", and then winked at Henry as he walked over to meet his next client. Henry couldn't help himself from smiling. Finally, he had an in.
  12. hotmuscle101

    muscle-growth Blue Pill Part 8

    Here are all the parts up to this chapter, just in case you haven't read them in order. Blue Pill Part 1 Blue Pill Part 2 Blue Pill Part 3 Blue Pill Part 4 Blue Pill Part 5 Blue PIll Part 6 Blue Pill Part 7 ~Blue Pill Part 8~ Derek stood in front of Riley with his arms outstretched flexing both of his mammoth arms. Each peak reaching almost 18 inches. Riley rubbed his hands over the peaks feeling the mounds of flesh harden underneath his fingers. He traced the veins that ran along the surface of each peak as it pumped more blood through his engorged veins. While Riley was worshipping Derek’s arms, another appendage began to stir and swell. Derek had always been the alpha male of the swim team. Not only because of his captain America good looks, but his body was magnificent compared to the rest of the team. This was due to the amount of time Derek put in at the gym each day. However it wasn’t his looks or his muscles that people envied most, it was Derek’s massive log between his legs that made him noteworthy among the schools populace. Before Derek’s growth, he was a hefty 8.5 inches long and 6 inches around. Although that sounds impressive, Derek could tell just by how his speedo was beginning to stretch away from his body that it was bigger than he previously remembered. While Derek was flexing his arms for his muscle admirer, he looked down to enjoy the new size of his bulge. It was then that he noticed the white striped pill sitting in the pouch of his speedo at the base of his dick. Derek reached into his speedo and pinched the pill between two fingers. “You ready to help me grow some more Riley?” Derek asked without ever waiting for a response. Next thing Riley knew, he had a hand covering his mouth as he felt something small inserted between his lips. “Now swallow or I will pound you into a pulp!” Derek said as he leered into Riley’s eyes with a strong burning desire to grow. Riley didn’t have much of a choice as he could begin to feel the pill dissolve in his mouth, he swallowed. It was a labored swallow as it stuck a few times on the way down, making Riley gasp and gag behind Derek’s hand. “That’s a good bitch, now let’s see how big we can make those tits of yours.” Riley looked at Derek with a confused look on his face as Riley was picked up by the behemoth and carried over to the Bench Press. Derek sat him down on the bench and loaded the bar with two 45 pound plates on each side. “Now lift.” Riley knew it wasn’t a question and more of a command. So Riley positioned himself under the bar and raised the bar up to begin his first rep. Riley slowly performed ten perfect reps as his pecs began to swell with blood from his pump. Just as he set the bar down, Derek had put another 45 pound plate on each side. “Lift” Derek grunted. So Riley lifted the bar once again, this time straining to get his ten reps in. Riley’s tank was now beginning to strain from his pump. His pecs felt full and tight. Riley re-racked the weight and reached up with both of his hands feeling his pec pump. He was brought back to the reality of things when he heard a loud rip. Riley looked to his right to find the source of the sound. The speedo that was holding back Derek’s mammoth dick had snapped from the immense strain from the erection that was now throbbing in front of him. “Holy shit Derek, that thing has to be at least 10 inches long!” Derek grinned at the excitement that showed on Riley’s face. Derek turned and put another 45 pound plate on each side of the barbell. “Lift” Derek grunted. “I can’t lift that, its twenty pounds more than my one rep max.” Riley exclaimed as he looked at the bar and back at Derek. “Did I stutter, I said LIFT!” Derek’s baritone voice echoed through the gym as Riley laid back under the bar and prepared for failure. What happened next surprised and scared Riley more than anything else. Derek reached forward and grabbed onto the waist of Riley’s shorts. “Lift your ass up.” Derek ordered. I dare not disobey, clearly I do not want to anger this behemoth. Riley slowly lifted his ass off the bench, holding the barbell racked with weight to pull himself up. Derek yanked his shorts down in one swift motion. Derek then lifted my legs straight up, sitting at the end of the bench and resting my legs on his shoulders. Riley’s eyes grew wide with fear at what was going to happen next. Derek stuck his thumb in his mouth and pulled it out with a pop. He then lowered his hand to Riley’s ass as he lifted him off the bench and slowly inserted his thumb into Riley’s ass. Riley’s eyes rolled back into his head as he could feel Derek’s thumb rub against his prostate. Riley was then surprised by a tingling feeling in his chest. Riley stared at his own nipples as he slowly saw them disappearing from his field of vision. “Oh my god, is my chest growing?!?” Fear and panic had formed on Riley’s face as Derrick got an evil grin on his. “Now lift” Derek commanded. Riley positioned himself under the bar again, Derek’s finger shoved firmly in his ass. Riley pushed the weight off the supports and lowered it to his chest. As Riley pushed the weight back up he noticed his pecs swell a little more and then stop once he reached the top of the lift. Riley lowered the weight again and began to push the weight back up expecting to see the same thing, only to be disappointed when nothing happened. Derek slid his finger out of Riley’s ass as Riley re-racked the weight. Derek stretched and was able to put another 45 pound plate on each side without leaving the bench. “There is no way I’m going to lift that, its 450 pounds!” Riley exclaimed, contemplating how he was going to lift the bar. Riley watched as Derek began massaging his dick. The pre-cum that continuously flowed from the tip was smeared all over his mammoth dick making it shine with lube. Riley began to panic as he knew what was coming next. Derek positioned his cock head at Riley’s sphincter and began to push. Riley fought with all of his might to stop this monster from penetrating his hole, but the harder he resisted the harder Derek pushed. Derek, getting fed up with Riley putting up a fight, grabbed Riley’s shoulders and pushed him down on his dick. Derek watched as his thick dick quickly disappeared into Riley’s ass. “NNNNGHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKKK!” Riley yelled out as his eyes rolled back into his head as pain and pleasure seeped through every nerve of his body. Derek sat still as Riley slowly came to his senses, regaining his surroundings. Riley began to feel again as he noticed that tingling feeling was now a burning sensation in his pecs. He looked down to see his pecs swelling right before his eyes. “Now lift!” Derek ordered as Riley grasped the bar again and lifted the bar from the supports. Riley lowered the weight down to his inflated chest, knowing there was no way he was going to lift it up. As Riley struggled to push the bar back up and began shaking, Derek began sliding his dick back out. This caused Riley’s prostate to be massaged by Derek’s massive cock head. A sudden surge of growth filled Riley’s pecs as the weight easily hefted back up towards the supports. Amazed, Riley began lowering the weight again, at the same time Derek began to push his fat dick back into Riley’s hole, hitting his prostate and causing Riley’s pecs to swell once again. This went on rep after rep. Each of Riley’s reps timed perfectly with the rhythm of Derek’s fucking. The weight became much lighter as Riley’s pecs swelled to massive proportions. Riley’s vision became filled with nothing but rippling engorged pec meat. As the weight became lighter Riley kept cranking out reps faster, causing Derek to fuck him faster. Riley re-racked the weight after about 100 reps, only to find that his pecs had stopped growing long ago. Derek continued to fuck Riley’s tight ass as he reached both hands up and felt his bulbous pecs. Derek pinched each of Riley’s perky nips to find them leaking with the milk of his desire. Derek leaned forward, stopping the fucking and left his dick buried to the hilt in Riley’s ass. Derek latched onto Riley’s left nipple with his teeth and began to suck hard, tasting the sweet delicious nectar flowing into his mouth. Riley began moaning and writhing on the bench as Derek continued to suck from his left nipple. Riley watched in ecstasy as his left pec quickly deflated to half its size. Derek noticed the milk was slowing down to a dribble so he moved over to the right nip, clamping down with his teeth, eliciting a sound of pleasure from Riley through his gritted teeth. Derek began to feel full as he could feel his gut beginning to swell against Riley as he sucked the last drops of milk form Riley’s right nip. Once finished, Derek squeezed each nipple to make sure he hadn’t gotten every last drop of Riley’s sweet nectar. Satisfied that there was nothing left, Derek leaned back up to his full height again. This time Riley could see what looked like a roid gut, solid yet so full of fluid that it pushed Derek’s abs out making him look as if he were pregnant. Derek rubbed his hands up and down his gut relishing in the thoughts of growth that were soon to ensue. Riley began moaning as Derek began moving his dick in and out of Riley’s ass. Riley watched in amazement as Derek became coated in sweat, causing his freshly grown chest hair to matte to his skin. Riley saw the veins on Derek’s arms getting thicker as he pistoned in and out of his ass. His shoulders and pecs swelling larger as well. Derek reached around Riley’s legs that were still positioned on his growing shoulders and grabbed onto his own nipples making himself give off a deep guttural moan. “FUUUUUCCCCKKKKK I’M GONNA CUM!” The first thing Riley noticed was an increased pressure in his ass as the torrent of cum began to flood his insides. Then he felt even more pressure as Derek pushed further and further into him. That’s when Riley was shocked to see that Derek was no longer moving. So that meant that his dick was growing inside of him. Riley looked down to see his lower abs on his right side being pushed up higher and higher as the mammoth cock inside him grew even larger. As if it was a renewal to the ecstasy Derek was feeling he began to cum even harder. “HOLY FUCK I’M CUMMING AGAIN” Derek yelled out in pleasure as he began ramming his dick back into Riley. Riley’s stomach began expanding at an alarming rate as he was filled with gallons of Derek’s cum. Just when Riley thought he couldn’t take anymore, Derek pulled out of Riley’s ass, making a loud sloshing sound as cum poured out of his ass. Derek was still shooting cum onto Riley’s ass as he stroked his newly enlarged 13 inch dick. Riley looked on in awe, not at the massive appendage between Derek’s legs, but his quads which had easily doubled in size since he started to fuck Riley. Derek was ripped to shreds showcasing veins that snaked all over his muscles fueling his body with the supply of nutrients it needed. Derek threw his arms up into a double bicep pose as each peak rose higher and higher, his lats fight for space with his massive triceps. Riley couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Derek had to weigh at least 250 pounds. “You must be bigger than Chris by now!” Riley said in amazement. “I’m not done yet little runt. I plan on getting much, much bigger!” Derek said as an evil smirk stretched across his face from ear to ear. Luke led Eric back into his home gym in the basement. “I can’t wait for you to see me get even bigger!” Luke reached into the pocket of the sweats and pulled out the pills he had grabbed from his duffel. He fished out two plain blue pills and threw them into his mouth and quickly swallowed. Luke turned to Eric with a look of excitement on his face, “Ready to see me grow?” To be continued...
  13. hotmuscle101

    muscle-growth Blue Pill Part 5

    Here is Blue Pill Part 4 In case you haven't had a chance to read it Blue Pill Part 5 As I came too it was absolutely quiet. I felt relieved that I didn’t hear Chris anywhere near. As I opened my eyes, I was reminded of why I had passed out in the first place. In front of me was a huge ball belly. It really did look like I was pregnant. I began to run my hands over my stomach. I was expecting it to feel soft, but it was rock hard, completely filled with Chris’s cum. My god, there had to be gallons of cum inside me. I figured I should get up and cleaned off before I got out of there. As I stood up I slipped and fell back into the pool of cum that was on the floor. There had to be just as much cum on the floor as was inside me. It was everywhere, all over the benches, lockers and the walls too. I then remembered Chris growing again just before I passed out. This was apparent from the shredded remains of his football pants still on the floor, covered in sweat and cum. I attempted to get back up off the floor, this time bracing myself on the nearby bench. As I steadied myself and got back on my feet, I could really feel the weight of my new distended belly. Quickly I grabbed the tape measure that was still on the floor by my bag and began wrapping it around my waist. I almost fell back to the ground when I read 46”. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to get rid of all of this.” As I tried to figure out how I was going to be able to get passed my mom with this big of a gut. “I have to get home and work out.” As I turned to grab my stuff off the floor, I noticed a locker still open across from mine. Holy shit! Chris had left his locker wide open. I quickly stumbled across the benches to get to his open locker and examine the things inside. I saw a bunch of sweaty old gym clothes, some deodorant, a worn fitness magazine and a bag at the back of his locker. I grabbed the bag from the back and unzipped it. Two bottles fell from the bag, both with blue caps. I was absolutely sure these were the bottles that Chris was getting his pills from. One bottle had a white stipe on the top of it and the other was just blue. So I twisted the top off of the one with the white stripe and inside there were blue pills with white stripes around the middle. I poured out half the bottle into my hand and twisted the cap back on the bottle. I proceeded to open the plain blue top bottle to find plain blue pills. I poured out half of the battle into my hand and closed the bottle. I put everything back neatly into Chris’s locker, hoping he wouldn’t notice I had been in there, at least not until I was bigger. I was just about to grab my stuff and leave when a familiar sheet of paper caught my eye underneath Chris’s magazine. I pulled the sheet out from underneath realizing it was our stat sheets from gym class. Chris’s first entry read as such: Height: 5’10” Weight: 170 lbs. BF%: 16% Arms: 14.5” Neck: 12” Chest: 40” Waist: 30” Thigh: 26” Calves: 14” I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. At the start of the school year, Chris wasn’t much bigger than me. So I quickly flipped through the pages to find the last entry. The last entry was a week ago. I dropped the papers when I saw his new stats because I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Height: 5’10” Weight: 220 lbs. Arms: 19.5” Neck: 17.5” Chest: 55” Waist: 28” Thigh: 30” Calves: 19” He gained over 50 pounds in less than 2 months! All from these blue pills. I couldn’t wait to start on them. So I grabbed a white striped and one of the plain blue and popped them in my mouth and swallowed. “Guess I’m gonna have to work out before I go home.” I stood in front of the mirror, flexing my arms and legs, imagining them growing as big as Chris’s and then even bigger. I started getting hard just imagining it. So I grabbed my bag and headed back down the stairs towards the weight room. The lights were already on inside the weight room. I had sworn they were off when I had gone up to the locker room. I walked in and the room smelled of sweat and bleach. I looked at the clock on the wall, already 9:30. Perfect time to get big, and that’s exactly what I did. I started off with squats, three 45’s on each side. I did a perfect set of 10 with almost no difficulty, so I upped the weight with two more 45’s on each side. As I squatted down for my first rep, I could feel the muscle fibers pulling and stretching in my legs. As I began to press up I could feel the struggle in my legs with the weight. As I pushed harder I saw veins begin popping out all over my thighs and they began the bulge bigger right before my very eyes, slowly pushing my shorts higher up my legs. I bent down for the second rep only to hear my shorts rip right down the middle. With each rep my thighs bulged bigger and bigger. After about twenty reps I felt that my thighs had enough attention and that it was time to move onto another body part. As I re-racked the bar I grabbed hold of my shorts, or what was left of them, and ripped them from my legs. This revealed massive cut quads, with the teardrop muscle just above the knee; veins snaked all over my quads. My boxer briefs were straining to contain my legs. I went to each side of the bar and took of the added 45’s that I had put on for squats. I got back under the bar and began to slowly rise up onto my tip toes. I felt the stretch in my calves as I began to reach as high as my feet would let me go. I watched my calves as they bunched up on the back of my leg. I slowly let the weight back down and watched as their size and shape, as if I was still flexing them. This went on for twenty reps; I re-racked the weights and headed over towards the mirrors to get a good look at my new legs. What I saw before me was simply amazing. My legs looked like they belonged to an amateur bodybuilder. My quads bulged out in every direction with veins snaking all the way from my hips to my feet. My calves were rock hard diamonds now, even when relaxed, they hung of the back of my legs looking like two massive striated balloons. My boxer briefs had pulled so tight from my growth that you could see right into them. I turned to the side to get another view of my legs and noticed why my underwear was so tight. My ass had grown along with my legs. It jutted out from my back and was rock hard. It almost looked like you could rest a glass on the top of it. Although it was much smaller than before, my stomach almost matched my butt in how it bulged out in front of me. This time I could see clearly defined abs underneath the gut, like a bodybuilder who had done too many steroids. I took a quick look around to see if anyone was around. I didn’t see anyone so I started to slide my underwear off when I realized they wouldn’t go down past my huge quads. I put my thumb under both sides of my briefs and I ripped them right off my waist. My cock must have been rock hard from watching my legs grow bigger, because it smacked itself against my lower abs. Now that I was no longer constricted, I gave my dick a few tugs as pre began to leak from the engorged head, and headed back over to the bar I was working out with. I didn’t change the weight, instead I got underneath the bar and rested it on my upper pecs and began pressing upward. I performed a perfect military press, and as I did I could feel my shoulders and traps swelling with muscle. I did twenty reps and re-racked the bar. From there I headed over to the T-bar row machine. I put 360 pounds on it and got into position. As I pulled up I could feel my back swelling to lift the weight. This swelling happened every time I lifted and then lowered the T-bar. I could feel my lats beginning to push against my arms, and I realized I still hadn’t worked my arms. I stepped over the wall of dumbbells and I picked up the 50 pounders. I began doing standing dumbbell curls. As I raised each fist up, I watched as my bicep bunched up. I lowered the weight and my bicep stayed bunched up. Veins began spreading all over my arms as they swelled bigger with more muscle. I stepped over to the pulley machine and began doing cab le pull downs. I watched rep after rep as my triceps turned into horseshoes packed muscle. It was so tight and hard I couldn’t even finish my set. As I let go of the rope, my dick brushed against the machine, leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum all over the support bar. I looked down towards my dick as it spit out more pre-cum. Looking past my dick and onto the floor, I saw a puddle of what I assumed was my pre-cum. I grabbed the head of my dick and began massaging the pre all over my dick. As I began jacking myself right there at the pulley machine, my pumped bicep rubbed against my nipple and I felt my eyes roll back into my head. I almost passed out from the rush I got from the sensitivity in my nipple. I let go of my dick and cupped each of my pecs in my hands and realized I had forgotten to work my pecs. I headed over to the bench press, tweaking my nipples along the way. As I leaned back onto the bench I saw that my nipples were wet, and I realized my hands were also wet. I tossed it away in my mind as being pre-cum left over from tugging at my dick. I looked to each side realizing I had forgotten to put any weights on the bar. There was already 540 pounds loaded on the bar, which was almost triple what I had ever lifted for bench press. I however was feeling daring and extremely aroused, so I grabbed onto the bar and hefted the weight up. Bringing the bar down to my chest was the easy part. I struggled trying to push the bar back up, but as I did I once again could feel the muscles in my pecs stretching and growing. I looked down to watch after each rep as my field of vision became obscured by the pecs that kept pushing their way up closer to the bar. The weight came falling down fast, but I quickly regained my composure and re-racked the weight. It wasn’t that the weight had gotten too heavy; something had caught my attention while I was watching my pecs grow. It was a bead of milky white liquid that had formed at the tip of my nipple. I reached my hand down and wiped the liquid onto my finger. I brought it closer to my face so I could examine it better. “This definitely isn’t pre-cum!” “No, it’s milk.” I turned to see Chris stepping out of the shadows of the hallway. “I’ve been watching you in here. Lifting and pumping up your puny muscles. I’m guessing you got into my things. You stole from me none the less.” Chris continued walking closer to me. With each step his grin got bigger and bigger. “Now it’s time for you to pay for what you’ve taken of mine.” Chris was clearly bigger than what I last remembered of him. His arms and traps bulged out of the tank he was wearing. His sweatpants didn’t hide a single detail of the musculature of his legs. They looked like they were saran wrapped. You could see very cut, every bulging vein through his sweats. I was still lying on the bench, a mix of shock and fear written across my face. I didn’t know if I should try and run or take the beating I was about to receive. Who am I kidding? There is no way I would be able to out run this behemoth. Chris stopped at the end of the bench and grabbed my ankles. He slid me across the bench until my new bubble but rested right at the edge. I watched in horror as a bulge began snaking its way down his right leg, slowly plumping up, thicker and longer with every beat of his heart. Chris leaned in, almost as if to kiss me, but he stopped short. His head hovered right above my pecs. Then I watched as he ran his tongue across my nipple, collecting the fluid that had built up. The feeling of his tongue was like sandpaper. It didn’t hurt; in fact it felt absolutely amazing. I didn’t want him to stop. I was in for a surprise, because he sucked my nipple into his mouth and began flicking it with his tongue. I began writhing on the bench underneath him. He reached his arms down on both sides of the bench to steady me as he sucked on my nipple. It felt as if I was pissing out of my nipple. It’s the only way I can describe the feeling at that moment. As Chris sucked on the nipple, he was also swallowing, what I assumed to be my milk I was producing. Before I knew it, my right nipple had stopped giving milk. I looked down and watched as Chris moved to the other nipple, doing the same to it. I was absolutely horrified to see that my right pec was now half the size of my left one. Granted it was still pretty big, but I can’t go around with one pec bigger than the other. As I had begun freaking out, those thoughts slowly began to diminish as euphoria washed over me from the feeling of my left pec being drained of milk. I saw my left pec slowly deflating in size as Chris continued to suck, until both pecs were once again the same size. Chris came up for air and his eyes had a look of hunger mixed with lust. Chris stood back up to his full height only to reveal that the entire right leg of his sweat pants was completely soaked from pre-cum. I could see Chris’s dick throbbing, begging for release. Chris reached his hand down his sweats and grabbed onto his dick. He slowly hefted out the monster that I remembered all too well. Except this time it was bigger. Chris reached into his sweat pants pocket and pulled out 2 blue pills. He popped them in his mouth and swallowed. “Hope you’re ready to give that ass of yours a workout, cause I sure am.” Chris held a hand out in front of his dick while the other squeezed it from base to tip, giving him a handful of pre-cum. He began lathering it all over his dick, and still had some left over, so he shoved a finger up my hole. Then he shoved another finger up my whole as a moan escaped my mouth. “Gonna have to stretch ya for this one. The biggest I’ve ever been, measured myself with the tape measure you left out before coming back down. I’m now up to the 11 inch mark, 6.5 wide.” Chris said with a chuckle as he pulled his fingers out. Chris grabbed onto my ankles once again and positioned the head of his dick right at the entrance of my hole. He slowly pushed forward and I felt his cock head stretch my hole wider with every passing second. I began to wince from the pain, but Chris kept pushing, no longer caring if he hurt me. I could see the lust in his eyes had fully taken over. I let out a deep moan as I felt the ridge of his head finally slip passed my ring. I had thought at this point Chris would have just hit it home, but he continued his slow assault. As I watched Chris slowly enter me, I was amazed to see that my field of vision was once again becoming obstructed by my pecs. They seemed very large and pumped. In fact they seemed larger than when Chris had finished sucking from them. I finally felt Chris’s balls touch against my ass. He then pulled back a little quicker and slid back in and continued in that tempo. As he did this, I noticed my pecs swell a little larger with each thrust of his dick. “Yeah, watch those babies grow.” Chris said as he began fucking me even faster. I reached my hands down and cupped both of my pecs and felt them slowly getting heavier in my hands. My hands brushed against my nipples and my cock shot out a jet of pre-cum. I latched onto my nipples with my fingers as I felt milk spilling out of them. My cock was throbbing every time I pinched on of my nipples. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. My pecs had gotten so swollen that I almost couldn’t see Chris anymore, and that’s saying something considering how massive Chris is. Upon seeing my pecs at their new bulbous size, playing with my ultra-sensitive nipples, and Chris pistoning in and out of me like a jack rabbit, I had finally lost it. I let out a loud moan as I began bucking my hips. My cock lurched and began spilling my seed all over my abs. I shot and shot and shot. I covered my pecs, face, the bench and Chris's torso. As I was cumming I felt my lats spread wider across the bench. I watched as my pecs completely blocked my view of Chris. My arms bulged thicker with muscle and I could feel the weight of my legs now having to rest on Chris’s shoulder. Just as my cock had begun to slow down and I thought I was done, it swelled up even more. It grew thicker and longer and began shooting all over again. My ass clamped down tight on Chris’s cock. This must have been too much for him. “FUCK IM GONNA BE FUCKING HUGE!!!!” I thought Chris had cum a lot before, but this was insane. Before I knew it, I could see something over my pecs and it was my ballooning belly from all of Chris’s cum. I reached down and felt my stomach. It felt like a water balloon as it fills up. I could feel it filling me up. To my amazement, Chris picked me up and began driving his dick into me even faster. As he did this I watched his body explode with muscle. I heard a loud rip as his tank and sweats both ripped from his body. It looked like he had almost doubled in size as veins exploded all over his skin, trying to feed his muscles all of the blood they required. I watched as muscle fibers twitched and expanded right before my eyes. Chris began moaning even louder as I felt a tight feeling in my stomach. I looked down to see the outline of Chris’s cock as it slowly expanded in all directions inside of me. I looked in the mirror on the wall as his balls caught my attention. They expanded and hung lower. I could feel the torrent of cum increase inside of me and I didn’t know how much more I could take. With that, Chris pulled out and shot that last of his load all over me and the weight bench. Coating everything and leaving a massive puddle underneath us. I watched as Chris walked out of the weight room, panting heavily. I had never seen someone so massive in my entire life. I laid there for a few minutes wondering what to do next, and then I remembered that I needed to tell Eric what I had learned about Chris and the pills. I went to get up, but realized I couldn’t move due to my massive stomach. “Great, now how am I gonna get out of here.” Continued in Blue Pill Part 6
  14. hotmuscle101

    muscle-growth Blue Pill Part 7

    Here is Blue Pill Part 6 in case you haven't had a chance to read it yet Blue Pill Part 7 I couldn’t believe how massive I had gotten as I walked back from the school to my house. My massive thighs made me waddle as they fought for space as I walked. As I got closer to my house I noticed that my mother was sitting out on the front porch, I thought it would be better if she didn’t see me in this state. I quickly turned down the alley next to the house which was hidden by a low row of bushes. I ducked down as best as I could, hoping that my hulking frame would stay out of view above the bushes. As I made my way around to the back door, I bent over to grab the spare key from under the matt and I heard the seam in the ass of the sweat pants rip. The neighbor’s dog began barking and in fear of getting caught by my mother, I quickly redoubled my efforts in finding the key in the dark. I grabbed onto the key just as I heard someone coming around the house on the porch. I quickly put the key in the lock and turned. I fell into the kitchen right as the back light came on. “Phew, close call. Now to make it upstairs before my mom comes inside.” I ran for the stairs and flew up them three at a time, surprised at the amount of power in my legs as it propelled me up the stairs. I reached the landing and dove into my room as I heard the kitchen door opening. I landed with a loud thud on my bedroom floor. “Jake sweetie, is that you upstairs.” my mom called up the stairs. I could tell she was standing right at the bottom of the stairs and she would come up if I didn’t answer. “Yeah…hack…hack…yeah” My voice was much lower than I had remembered it being before. “Honey are you feeling ok? It sounds like you’re coming down with something.” “Yeah mom, I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.” I could hear my mom heading back down the stairs, “ok sweetheart, if you need anything I will be out on the porch. Dinner is in the fridge. I made meatloaf.” “Thanks mom.” I heard the front door close again as my mom had gone back outside. I quickly flew to the phone in the hall and dialed my friend Eric. Now that I have the growth hormones, I can show Eric how I grew… __________________________________________________ ________ Meanwhile back at the high school, Derek began coming to on the bench by the pool… “HOLY SHIT”, Derek yelled as he saw his massive gut distending over his dick and balls. He slowly stood up off the bench and gained his balance as he felt the true weight of his over-extended stomach. Derek began feeling his new solid gut with his hands as he thought of how he was going to explain his new gut to coach. “I’ve gotta figure out a way to get rid of this gut before tomorrow’s big swim meet or coach will kill me.” As Derek began to turn towards the locker room, his toe hit something next to the bench. He looked down and noticed a small blue and white stripe pill rolling along the tile floor. He quickly bent over and picked it up, having a flashback remembering that it was the pill that Luke had made him take. “I’m going to get that mother fucker for turning me into this.” Just then Derek noticed a small piece of paper on top of the duffel bag at his feet. In scribbled handwriting it said that you would benefit from a workout. What a great piece of advice, Derek thought sarcastically. Derek crumpled up the piece of paper and headed into the locker room, he needed to find something in his duffel bag to wear so he could go down the school gym and workout. “Dammit!” Derek had found that someone had been in his duffel bag and his clothes were gone. He couldn’t use the clothes in the other duffel bag by the bench because they were ripped to shreds and covered in Luke’s cum. Instead Derek grabbed the last piece of clothing that he had in the bag and put it on. He looked ridiculous in his speedo with his distended gut hanging over the pouch. With the pill still in his hand he tucked it into the speedo thinking that maybe he would run into some unsuspecting victim and get some muscle like Luke did. Derek waddled his way into the weight room, relieved that there was nobody to see him in his current state of physicality. He headed over to the stair master to begin his workout. “What better than to start with a little cardio to work off this massive gut.” Derek stepped up onto the machine and started it at its lowest setting. After a couple of minutes he noticed it was beginning to get easier, so he increased the speed. This went on for about 15 minutes, Derek constantly increased the speed due to the level of ease he was feeling. Before he knew it the machine was beeping at him because he was at the max setting. “Impossible, I’ve never made it to the max setting even in my best swimmers shape. Derek finally looked down to see that his gut had slimmed down to about half of its previous size. He stepped off of the machine and noticed his legs were pumped, but not just pumped, engorged with new vein throbbing mass. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His legs had become massive and vein covered. “No way.” Derek quickly headed over to the wall of mirrors with the dumbbells in front of them to check out his new physique. “Oh my god”, Derek said in amazement as he checked out the striations and size of his new legs. He began shaking them out and flexing them as he had seen bodybuilders do before on YouTube. “What should I grow next?” Derek said out loud as he began getting excited over his new growth. “I’ve always wanted a bigger back.” So Derek headed over to the T-bar row and loaded it up with four 45 pound plates (his previous max). Derek stood over the bar and lifted it, feeling the strain in his back muscles as he pulled the bar to his chest. He lowered the weight back down and pulled the bar back up noticing how much easier it was to bring to his chest this time. Derek sat the bar down and grabbed two more 45 pound plates and loaded them on the bar. He stood over the bar and lifted it again, this time noticing a pump beginning to form in his arms as veins snaked their way over his biceps each time he brought the weight up. The veins got thicker and thicker with each rep until he finally lowered the weight back to the ground after about 30 reps with that weight. As Derek stood up he could instantly feel the difference in his muscles as his arms were now pushed out from his sides by his lat muscles. He turned and looked in the mirror. What looked back at him seemed like a fantasy from a fitness magazine. His lats flared out like a cobra head, so packed full of muscle that it pushed his arms out to a 45 degree angle. He turned and flexed his back, watching in the mirror as muscle exploded along his spine creating a set of wings that continued to spread wider the harder he flexed. Derek couldn’t believe the amount of muscle he had packed on in the short amount of time he was in the gym. Derek also noticed that he could once again see the faint outline of his eight pack abs. “Just a little bit of a gut left, what to use it on?” Just then a gasp was heard from behind. Derek quickly turned around to find Riley, the swim team’s co-captain, standing in the gym doorway. His jaw was on the floor along with his gym bag. “Like what you see?” Derek said with a devilish grin on his face. Riley was speechless as Derek stepped towards the awe struck jock. As Derek walked towards Riley he began popping his pecs in an arrogant display of muscle. Derek noticed a bulge starting to form in Riley’s shorts. Derek brought up his beefy right arm flexing it hard. He turned his head and began to lick it right in front of Riley. This sent a shudder through Riley as he spontaneously came in his shorts from the muscular display in front of him. The wet spot forming in Riley’s shorts brought Derek’s attention to his own bulge which had begun growing in his speedo. “You like my muscle Riley?” Derek asked as one hand slid down and began to man handle his own bulge through the speedo. Riley just shook his head still not knowing what to say. “How did…but you…” Riley stumbled for words as Derek put a finger up to his lips to silence his attempt at speaking. “How would you like to help me get even bigger Riley?” This question sent another shutter through Riley as his dick shot out another load in his shorts. “That’s what I thought.” Derek said with an evil grin forming on his face. __________________________________________________ ________ Eric finally answered his phone. “What?” “Eric you have to come over to my house. I can finally prove to you how I grew” Luke said in a rushed voice. “How am I sure this isn’t going to be a repeat of earlier in your basement? You don’t have Chris chained to a squat rack in your gym do you?” Remembering what I had said earlier about getting more of Chris’s cum I realized how crazy that must have sounded. “I promise you Eric, I’m being serious this time. If I can’t prove it to you this time, then you never have to speak to me again.” “Well we both know that will never happen” I could hear the smile in Eric’s voice. “I’ll be right over.” “Alright, see you soon.” As I got off the phone with Eric, I headed over to my full body mirror in the corner of my bedroom. I began admiring my muscles. Flexing my massive biceps and feeling the striations and the peaks in each one. I then moved onto my slabs of pec meat that now hung over my abs. I tensed the muscles, watching my pecs jump in the mirror. I reached over to my left pec and tweaked the nipple, sending a swift shudder of pleasure through my body. I grabbed onto my right nipple as well and tweaked it as my dick began to stiffen in the sweats I was wearing. TAP, TAP, TAP… I turned and looked towards the window as I saw Eric staring in wide eyed and slack jawed. I hurried over to the window and threw it open, slamming it a little harder than I expected. Eric quickly jumped into my room, not taking his eyes off my newly massive frame. “DUDE, WHAT THE FU….” I quickly stopped Eric in mid exclamation as I stood in front of him with a hand covering his mouth. He quickly grabbed my hand trying to pull it away, but unsuccessfully moving my hand even in the slightest bit. I then put a finger to my mouth signaling to be quiet. He got the hint and I took my hand off of his mouth. “Sweetie is everything alright? I heard a loud thud from the porch.” My mom had begun her ascent up the stairs towards my bedroom door. I quickly stepped over to my bedroom door and locked it. The knob turned as she tried opening the door. “Sweetheart is everything ok?” “Everything is fine mom, I just slipped when getting out of the shower is all.” “Alright well, be more careful next time. You definitely get your clumsiness form me.” My mom began snickering at the thought of me being just as clumsy as her. I then heard the stairs creak as she headed back down into the kitchen. The whole time I was talking to my mom through my bedroom door, I felt a small pair of hands groping my back and arms. I turned just to have my pecs groped by those same hands. “What do you think your do...” my eyes rolled back in my head as Eric pinched my nipples. I let out a slight moan as a huge grin came across his face. I went to move Eric’s hands away, but he insisted on keeping them there, tugging harder on my nipples. My dick began to respond from the sensation in my nips as it surged down the leg of the sweat pants, leaving a wet streak of pre-cum the entire way down. “You keep that up and we will have a mess on our hands.” Just then Eric pulled his hands back realizing the effect his groping had on me. He looked down and he then realized what I was talking about. “That thing is massive. How did that grow as well? I’ve seen you in the showers after gym class and you’ve never been that big, explain yourself.” Eric said all of this in a hushed voice. So I told Eric everything as we sat on my bedroom floor. Eric not once taking his eyes of my massive from. He would stare at the veins on my arms and trace their outlines with his fingers, and then he would move onto my pecs hefting each one in his hand and feeling their weight as they fell back into place. I told Eric about the blue pill and how it makes whoever takes it bigger through sexual stimulation. Then I explained that whoever takes the white stripe begins producing a muscle building milk that when drank makes the drinker grow. I also told him that the cum of the person who takes the blue pill makes you bigger as well, but only through physical exertion. By the time I was finished Eric was sitting in my lap and playing with my massive quads, watching as I flexed them in his hands. “I still don’t believe you. I would probably believe it if I could see it in action.” Just as he said that a smile spread across my face. “I can show you Eric” with that he turned and looked right up into my eyes. “How would you like to grow little buddy?” Continued in Blue Pill Part 8
  15. hotmuscle101

    growth Blue Pill Part 3

    Here is Blue Pill Part 2 if you haven't had a chance to read it Blue Pill Part 3 “Looks like I have some explaining to do.” I really didn’t know where to begin, but before I could say anything we could hear the announcer’s voice over the P.A. system. I knew we had to get out of their and quick before Chris came back for round two. “Are you gonna tell me how the hell you went from zero to hero in the matter of just a few hours or do I have to start guessing?” Eric was hammering me with questions the whole way home. “I think it’s best if I just show you, otherwise you will just think I’m crazy.” So that’s exactly what I did, or at least I tried to do. ************************************************** ******** Alright, so a little back story about my life. My dad Titus used to be a bio-medical engineer for the government. He was secretly working on a new drug for feed efficiency in cattle. Not just any kind of drug though, this was a government test drug that wasn’t meant for human consumption. It produced amazing results in the bovine that it was tested on. It was intended to increase feed efficiency in cattle and also increase fertility at the same time all while minimizing body fat. The drug was a huge breakthrough for the ranching community. My mom had told me that the reason my dad went to federal prison was that he was bringing his work home and testing it himself, which is a big no-no if you are a lab scientist working on a top secret government project. The only reason he was caught was his co-worker James, and best friend, had sold him down river and went to corporate about him working on the test drug at home. Mom had said that before dad left, he had been taking the drug and it changed him. It had made him more aggressive more dominant. He would get into fights with random people all the time. He would spend all of his time in the gym he had created in our basement. So mom did what any concerned wife would have done, she went to her best friend for advice. Her best friend just so happened to be my dad’s coworker’s wife Sarah. So she in turn told her husband so he could maybe talk to my dad, try and figure out why he was bringing his work home. James had dropped by the house one day to check on my dad, because he hadn’t been to work for a few days. He knocked on the door a few times, but nobody answered. James took a quick look in the garage to see if my dad was home. “Well I’ll be damned,” James whispered to himself. “His car is here, that means he has to be somewhere around here.” So he slipped into the back yard and reached his hand above the stoop next to the sliding glass doors that came out to the hot tub on the deck. As his fingers fumbled for the key he knew had to be there, he heard a faint sound coming from in the house. He finally grabbed hold of the key and worked it into the lock. When he finally opened the door, the sound was much louder and much deeper than what he could make out from outside. “MMMMMMMM…..AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” If James weren’t mistaken he would say that it sounded like moaning, but where was it coming from? James rounded the corner from the kitchen into the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible on the tiled floor. As he made his way down the hall the sounds kept getting louder, and he had begun hearing a clanging sound, like metal hitting metal. The only door left at the end of the hall was the basement door. James crept up to it slowly, trying not to make any noise. He reached his hand out to turn the knob just as the clanging sound stopped. James also stopped because his heart was beating extremely fast. He listened very carefully for any sound. “OHHHHH FUUUUCCCKKKKK!” James didn’t know whether he should turn in fear or check to make sure Titus was ok. James couldn’t just leave his best friend, what if he was hurt. James flung the door open and ran down the stairs. What he saw was astonishing. It was a complete gym. Every kind of machine you could ever imagine was in that basement. As James began looking around the room at all the equipment his eyes finally fell upon something he thought he would never see in a million years. In the corner of the room was a massive bench press machine, and on it sat a naked overly pumped Titus. His muscles, that he didn’t have a few weeks ago, were bulging all over his body. Veins snaked their way across his biceps and forearms. His chest jutted extremely far out hanging over his cobblestone 8 pack abs. However his abs were hard to see because of the massive flesh pole that was in the way. James knew Titus was well endowed because of the stories his wife and Sarah talked about, but his dick had to be at least ten inches long and 6 inches around. It was throbbing to what I assumed was his pulse. Apparently Titus hadn’t seen me yet, because both his hands reached forward and began to jerk on his massive dick. I crouched down and watched, not quite sure what to do. His hands began making sounds on his dick, like when you rub your hands together under soap and water. I could finally see the reason why, his hands and massive tree trunk thighs were coated in a clear coating. I could only assume it was pre-cum. As I watched Titus squeeze the pre from his dick he released his dick and grabbed back onto the barbell. Only then did I notice how much weight was stacked on each side. He had a total of seven hundred pounds on that bar. I thought there was no way he was going to lift that. To my surprise, and with a really loud grunt, the barbell was lifted up and then brought right back down to his bulging pecs. As Titus cranked out rep after rep on the bench press, I noticed how the bar didn’t have to travel as far to reach his pecs. That’s because his pecs were bulging bigger after each rep. As I sat there crouched on the floor in his gym it had then dawned on me, how much of this drug had Titus taken. When I looked back up, I expected to see Titus making his pecs bulge up even more. Instead there was nothing there. My heart began to race as I looked around the gym to try and find him. I felt something warm and sticky touch my hand and a wall of heat behind me. As I turned around, all I could see was a massive cock in my face as it dripped pre-cum all over the floor. It had begun to turn into a puddle and my hand just so happened to be in the middle of it. As I looked up past the massive dick in my face, past the rock hard abs, past the bulbous pecs that jutted out freakishly far from his torso, I saw Titus staring at me. “Long time no see James.” He said with a crooked smile on his face. “How did you do all of this in a matter of a few weeks?” I said as I pointed towards his massive physique. “Well, you know that new drug we’ve been working on? I figured out how to re-sequence its chemical make up in order for it to be digested by humans. With amazing results as you can see.” Titus pulled his arms up into a double biceps pose and I watched as veins exploded all over his arms and his lats flared out like a cobra head. “James, you can’t just test the drug on yourself! There are trials that still have to be ran. We don’t know what kind of effects this could have on you in the long run!” “At this point I really don’t care what could possibly happen, as long as I keep getting bigger, that’s all that matters.” “What about your family? What about your wife Rachel? What about your son? For Christ sake Titus he’s only three. Do you really want Jake to grow up not knowing his father?” Titus moved even closer to me as I began to stand up. “What makes you think my son is going to grow up not knowing me?” “Titus, I turned you in to corporate. It was the right thing to do, for you and for your family.” “My best friend….I should have known better than to trust you. Well they aren’t gonna take me, I will run before they have the chance.” Titus began walking towards the corner of the room where a gym bag and water bottle sat. He opened the gym bag and pulled out some clothes. Clothes that were screaming to rip apart the minute Titus pulled them over his engorged muscles. He then grabbed a bottle out of his bag and popped it open. He shook out a handful of blue pills and put them in his mouth, grabbed his water bottle and swallowed all of them. “They’re not coming to take you Titus, I am.” I grabbed the tranquilizer gun from my side pocket and shot Titus right in the chest. “I’m so sorry Titus, I didn’t want things to turn out like this, but I knew you wouldn’t listen to me.” “You son of a…” Titus slowly fell to the ground as he slurred the last of his words. He dropped the bottle of pills and blue capsules littered the floor. James began looking for Titus’s lab. He noticed a door ajar towards the staircase. He opened the door to find a room full of computers and diagrams of muscle groups. So James grabbed all of the pertinent information for the research and left the stack of blue pills in the corner of the room. “The lab is going to need all of this as evidence; I’ll just copy the formula and see if I can’t recreate it later. This could prove to be a huge breakthrough for MD.” James took one last look at the hulking form on the floor. “Goodbye old friend, it’s been fun.” As he rounded the corner of the upstairs hall he flipped open his cell phone and dialed a number. “The subject is down; you can take him into custody now.” ************************************************** ******** “I still don’t understand how you look so amazing. I mean I saw you in 5th period biology class and you didn’t look anything like this!” Eric continued on trying to figure out how I had gotten so buff. “I’m telling you, it will be better if I just show you.” So I led the way into my dad’s old gym basement. Mom wanted to turn it into storage, but couldn’t bring herself to come down here. So instead it is now my new man cave. I spend all of my free time down here, obsessing over the same thing my father did. We got to the mirrored wall with the racks of dumbbells on them and I grabbed the thirty’s and began doing curls. The veins in my arm began to pop out, but my arms didn’t seem to grow any bigger. “I’m waiting!” Eric said impatiently as he sat down on one of the benches with his arms crossed. “I swear, all I did was worked out and I got bigger. I felt this amazing rush of energy and then felt the urge to dispose of that energy.” So I moved over to the bench press and put two 45 pound plates on each side. I began pushing out rep after rep of presses, but still no growth. I began getting frustrated. “Well it worked before I swear! Something must be different…” Then I remembered my bloated belly and how as I worked out it began to shrink down. “All I need to do is get Chris to fill me with sperm again and then I can show you.” “What?” There was a puzzled and slightly disgusted look on Eric’s face. “What the hell are you talking about Jake? You sound really crazy now. You know, if you didn’t want to meet me for pizza, all you had to do was say so. I’m going home.” Eric got up and began heading up the stairs. “When you decide to tell me the truth, I’ll be waiting.” Just like that he was gone. Great, now my best friend doesn’t believe me. I’ve got to find a way to prove it to him, but how? Continued in Blue Pill Part 4
  16. hotmuscle101

    muscle-growth Blue Pill Part 2

    Here is Blue Pill Part 1 if you haven't had a chance to read it. **DISCLAIMER** All characters, unless stated otherwise, are assumed to be 18 years of age or older. If you do not like scenes of forced sex and some violence, then please leave now. You have been warned. Blue Pill Part 2 I don’t think anything in the world could have prepared me for the sight before my eyes. The man I had worshipped in my dreams was standing right before me fully exposed. Most people in that situation would have turned and ran for their life, but at that point I had no feeling left in my body. My brain had gone completely numb except for one thought. I can’t believe this is happening! “I’m so fucking horned up from that first half, and Stacy is nowhere to be found so I guess you’ll have to do. Not that you didn’t want me to fuck you anyways, hahaha.” Chris then picked me up, stripped me of my clothes by ripping them from my body and positioned me on the bench. There was no warning, just a sharp jolt of pain as I felt Chris’s mammoth cock entered my virgin hole. To describe what I felt was intense pain, but once I felt his balls hit my ass, my eyes had rolled back into my head from the pleasure I felt. “Yeah, you like that don’t you, you little faggot!” Chris’s baritone voice filled my ears as he continued to fuck me. All I could do was moan in approval and say “yes”. As I began to regain some of my senses, I realized who was fucking me. I also remembered that his cock wasn’t the only thing that was big on him. My eyes were first drawn to his pecs and how they bounced every time he plunged his thick dick into my ass. I reached my hand up to feel these massive melons that were hanging in front of me. His pecs were so thick and so full of muscle that his nipples were hard to find underneath all of his muscle cleavage. You could tell as soon as I had found them, because the expression on his face changed immediately. If I thought he was fucking me beforehand, then this was like overdrive. Something about grabbing onto his nipples put him over the edge and he began fucking like a mad man. It took all I had not to let go. As Chris was getting closer to the point of no return I saw the veins in his neck and arms bulge thicker. I swear I could see his pecs swelling larger too, but I assumed I was hallucinating from all of the pleasure I was feeling. “Oh FUUUUCCCCCKKKK!” I felt Chris’s cock expand inside of me and then I felt what all the excitement was over. Now, don’t get me wrong, I had cum a lot in the past, but this was a torrent of jizz flooding my insides. I could actually feel pressure from the amount of sperm that was being deposited inside me. I just so happened to look down and I could see my stomach expanding from all the sperm. BZZZZZZZZZZ “Thank you Fletcher Valley High Cheerleaders for that wonderful performance, now onto more football!” We heard the P.A. system screech through the locker room. “Well that’s my cue. Thanks for the release. Come to think of it, Stacy is busy after the game as well. Looks like you aren’t going anywhere.” Chris shoved me hard into the janitor’s closet and the last thing I saw before he closed the door was a super pumped Chris. As if he had just gotten through a grueling workout! “See ya later cum rag. I’ll be back to pump that ass some more after we win the game.” Then the door to the closet slammed shut and I heard a click as Chris locked it from the outside. With my jeans still around my ankles, I pulled them up and tried to clean myself up a little bit. As I went to zip up my jeans, I noticed that they were a little more snug than the last time I wore them and I was unable to button them. Then I noticed the problem, It was my cum bloated stomach from that massive dick that was just inside me. Even after gorging myself on food at thanksgiving I never looked this stuffed. One thing I did know was that I had to get out of here before the football game ended. Of course I wanted to experience that joyful bliss again, but I couldn’t be seen like this. Bloated to the max and my jeans covered in cum from when Chris pulled out. Before I could think of anything else, I felt a vibrating in my pants pocket. I reached in to find that Eric was trying to call me on my cell phone. I think I was more surprised that I was getting cell service in the school over the fact that I hadn’t dropped my phone in that sexcapade. I quickly flipped open the phone to hear Eric complaining about slow service at the pizza place and why I wasn’t there yet. “Dude, I have been waiting forever, not just for the pizza, but for you too! Get your butt down here!” I knew my friend wouldn’t judge in the state I was in. “Ummm, kind of in a pickle here Eric. Could you come down to the school and let me out of the janitor’s closet? I seemed to have been locked in.” “Yeah, sure. How did you lock yourself…? Never mind, it’s you were talking about. The same kid that somehow manages to lock himself out of his own car all the time. Yeah, I’m on my way” “Thank you so much Eric! I owe you one!” “No, you owe me like fifteen now. Hahaha….” *Click* Beep, beep, beep…. Enough of him gloating that he had to come to the rescue, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it once he gets here. After hanging up with Eric, I noticed a strange urge that seemed out of place, I felt really horny. I also noticed that my stomach didn’t seem to bulge out as much anymore. I felt extremely energetic as well, like I could run a hundred laps around the school or something. I hope Eric gets here soon or I just might explode from all of this energy. 10 minutes went by and still no Eric, so I figured I would find a way to pass the time and consume some of this unbound energy I was feeling. I began doing pushups. At first I figured I would go to twenty and see how I felt from there. Twenty turned into thirty, turned into fifty, and that’s how I am now at three hundred and I still feel wired. As I stood up and looked down I realized that my stomach was no longer bloated, because I couldn’t see it. My pecs were so full and pumped that I couldn’t see my feet when I looked down. What really caught my attention was the fact that my biceps each had a vein running down the middle of them. These are two things that I had never seen in all of my years of working out. So I quickly dropped to the floor and started repping out crunches. Before I knew it I was coming up to two hundred. So I stopped and stood up to see the damage. I leaned over my newly pumped pecs to see the faint outline of my six pack. I had never once been able to see my abs EVER! Then I noticed a mop in the corner of the closet. I set it across horizontally on the two shelves on each side of the room to form a pull up bar. I began pulling myself up doing as many chin ups as I could. Every time I came up after a full extension I could feel my lats pushing my arms further out. However that’s not what stopped me from doing pull ups. *CRACK* as the mop snapped in two. “HOLY SHIT DUDE!” I looked up to see Eric with his mouth wide open and his eyes bugging out as he looked over my sweaty body. “Looks like I have some explaining to do…”
  17. momoware

    growth Memoirs of Young Muscle 1

    “I’ve been waiting for a very long time to find someone like you Alexander. A young man with brute strength, excellent genetics and a raging testosterone factory between his legs. Most importantly though, you have inside yourself an overwhelming desire to be huge, and you will be, with my help. I’m going to fund you in every way you could possibly need to become the biggest, freakiest bodybuilder on the planet. You’ll have muscle growing out of muscle and you’ll have the body of your dreams. I truly can’t wait to make that happen for you. Are you on board?” Alexander was unsure how to feel and what to say. Mr. Richards had invited him down to his beachfront mansion after being spotted taking a dip in a small pond a few miles inland. After a brief chat with Alexander, Mr. Richards knew that he had found what he had always been looking for. Alexander had never had an outlet to talk about his goals and fantasies before, so he was extremely open with Mr. Richards, explaining that in the past few months he had been training hard using an assortment of rudimentary gym apparatus that he had largely designed himself. Mr. Richards eyed the young man’s bulging upper arms, that he could not believe were the result of just a few months of lifting weights at home. The quads were mighty oaks too, with a big meaty ass at their north end that for practically any other bodybuilder would have been unachievable without significant pain, hard years squatting and probably even steroids. He was the whole package. Having waited to fully comprehend all that had happened, he finally responded, in a way that shocked and thrilled Mr. Richards. “You’ve been very welcoming to me today Mr. Richards, and I’m grateful. I’m going to accept your offer, but first I need to make somethings clear.” He stood up and walking to the other side of the table where Mr. Richards sat. He placed his large hands on Mr. Richards shoulders, squeezing the average sized man’s delts. “In just three months of training I’ve achieved all this, turn round and get a proper look.” Alexander removed his shirt, and then his boxer shorts, the only clothes he had had on prior. He proceeded to hit several of the standard bodybuilding poses. A classic front double biceps opened the show; he pumped each arm up repeatedly with several big gulps of air entering his enormous chest. The arms were remarkable. They were even well defined, considering that rest of his form still showed signs of high body fat. His chest and stomach drooped slightly under the weight of fat that was rapidly disappearing. The shape of well-formed pecs and abdominals lurked beneath this layer of fat, and that opportunity for development excited Mr. Richards. A fat cock and a big ball sack hung beneath the stomach, and from the second he felt eyes watching him the cock began to grow harder. He moved into a lat spread that saw developing muscle wings fly out from either side. They weren’t large, but they were impressive for an amateur after so little time working out. This pose made Alexanders pecs ascend slightly, giving his overall physique a more solid look. Finally came a stunning abdominals and thigh pose that began with him lifting his left leg three feet into the air and pounding it down to the ground with a thud that struck fear and admiration into Mr. Richards. The beginnings of quad striations were beginning to show, and an oversized calf jutted out halfway down form the knee. Alexander’s cock had risen to full mast by this point. He strutted over to Mr. Richards, arms not touching the sides of his bulky body and without forewarning rammed the huge meat into his patron’s waiting mouth. He continued talking as he thrust his cock in and out of the delighted billionaire’s jaw. “So you see, if you want me to cooperate, we’re going to have a professional relationship. And that professional relationship first and foremost means me on top, always. I’m in charge here, even though I’m doing this for your pleasure. We’re going to make both of us happy, but doing it my way. In exchange for your cooperation with this agreement I’ll never look elsewhere for support, it will all come from you. My cock is exclusively yours, and your ass is exclusively mine. I’m going to dominate you in ways you can’t even imagine yet, and we’ll both fucking love it.” Alexander decided that he wouldn’t continue this forced blowjob any longer, he was far too keen to get down to the business of growing. Besides, there would be a great many more opportunities to fuck Mr. Richards into oblivion. Mr. Richards was overcome with delight at this news. “Well, Alexander, that arrangement, as I’m sure you can imagine pleases me a great deal. So, I won’t waste any time in telling you what we have planned for you.” He stood up and marched across the room, pulling open a curtain that had split the room in half. Behind it stood a line of people looking into the distance. “These will be your coaches along the road to greatness for you Alexander. This is Franco, he will be training your lower body, look at his quads!” Sure enough, Franco was one of the IFBB’s most celebrated bodybuilding veterans, famed for his ripped and massive quads. He hit a similar abdominals and thigh pose, but this one, unlike, Alexander’s before, shook the entire room. “And this is Connor, he’ll be training your upper body. You’ll notice he’s got some real melon shoulder, and those pecs, woof! Adrian will be your dietician and chef, inform him later of any requests or needs you have, although I should warn you, success in bodybuilding does not consist of culinary pleasures, and lastly this is Tony, who will be your posing instructor. We’ll start you training posing right away, so that by the time you’ve trimmed that stomach down and put on some more mass you’ll already be a dab hand at it. Tony, what did you think of that posing you saw earlier?” Tony, who had also been an IFBB mainstay for many years stepped forward and directly approached Alexander. He was two inches taller and had about 100lbs of muscle over the 23 year old. “It was really good Alex,” He got up behind the still naked Alexander and held his large waist, “Once this waist gets down to maybe 34 inches we’ll show you how to get some swing in your posing, it looks great on stage and it’ll really highlight your abs and obliques, it’s going to look amazing, I can guarantee you that. Mr. Richards said we won’t spare a penny in turning you into the ultimate muscle machine.” Mr. Richards leaned into Alexander’s boyish face, “Well done Alexander, we’re going to turn your genetic giftedness into your dreams come true soon, let’s get to work.”
  18. Omiganda

    m/m Belly Down Part 5

    I've posted a lot this month, huh? Part 1: Part 2: Part 3: Part 4: Belly Down Part 5 The campus was quiet in the spring night air. Crickets were the only thing that broke the barrier, though even they were hushed. The many buildings of the college campus were just as quiet as students all over the school were resting their heads before the beginning of another semester. Small vehicles carried school guards across the facility in record time. One specific vehicle arrived at the front doors of one of the school’s gyms. A large-waisted cop yanked up his belt and walked slowly to the entrance to the gymnasium. “Stupid belt is pulling at me again” he said before turning and looking down at his watch. Almost midnight. The guard grumpily walked towards the front door and shuffled his set of keys until he found the correct one. He pulled up his walkie talkie and grumpily let it set itself to the correct channel. “Tony, explain again why I’m checking the gym? I’m pretty sure no one wants to do sets at 12 AM.” *KRRRRR* “I’m pretty sure you just mean you, man. Did I see you eating another donut before you made your way there?” came the voice of an equally unconvinced guard on the other end. The cop angrily hooked his talkie back onto his chest fixture and stabbed his key into the gym’s lock. He then yanked the key out and pulled at the door handle. “What? Did I….” he started before yanking at the door again. The door was locked. He’d just locked it. “Tony, doors were unlocked” *KRRRRR* “You ever seen a athletic building that didn’t have some dumb college kids running it? Of course they forgot to lock the door. Stop slacking and hurry it up, Slater.” Slater re-unlocked the door and walked carefully into the building, passing the front desk of the large building and waving his flashlight over the many walls, passing a bulletin board or a set of stairs every so often. Slater had to admit this was his best job so far. Such a large school offered a nice sum of money to an ex-cop willing to scale over it with a small staff. He hated gyms as much as any other guy. Reminded him too much of his time in high school where they would call him things that were pretty typical to call people who weren’t supermodels. Slater was really bitter about that for the rest of his life, generally. It shone in how he had eaten his way through pounds of food to solve his problems and pick jobs where he could take his aggression out on. Of course, that doesn’t work in a world of smart phones and internet. His aggression became a spectacle and a spectacle became forced resignation. The chief said he was being “lenient” for letting him off with resignation and not a discharge. All these memories were what made Slater ignore the details and focus on completion rather than accuracy. He didn’t notice a single thing out of the ordinary that should have been obvious to a real guard. He might have seen the fact that one light was on but flickering awkwardly compared to the others. “Why would they have a light on over the vending machines here? Who would eat this diet crap?” He also could have noticed the dark red stains on the ground that might’ve been blood. “Ugh, another jock spilling their creatine crap everywhere.” Signs were all over the place and he made excuses for all the basic signs. The dents in the marble floor, the tiny symbols on the benches that looked like they were written on with magic marker, even the stray burn mark on the door to the custodian’s closet. “I don’t really blame them for not paying the custodians more, they do a crap job” Slater said into his talkie as he stomped his booted feet down the hall. Then one thing he couldn’t ignore sounded in the distance. Clank. Clank. Clank. K-Clank. Slater wielded his baton as the sound quieted down. He tiptoed as best he could to try and peek into a single room. It was dark from what he could gather but the sound had started again. Clank. Clank. Clank. Slater yanked his talkie off his chest again. “Tony!” he whispered as best he could into the device. “There’s someone else in here with me.” *KRRRR* “Have you been watching that show about hunting Big Foot again?” “No! There really is someone here!” Slater silently screamed into the talkie. *KRRRR* “Yeah, OK” Slater cursed quietly and put his device back and gripped the baton even more tightly. The muscles he’d used in the force flexed as he felt himself move into his old groove. “I’ll handle this myself. Fuck them.” He leaned in to take a peek into the room but couldn’t see much. It was a large room but it was glittered with only some moonlight. There wasn’t enough to properly make out anything but a silhouette. It seemed like an average man but his entire body was covered in something. Leather? Tight muscles could be made out on a smooth, liquid-like surface as though the entire creature were some darkened chocolate. With a squint, Slater could make out the slight redness to the man standing in the room. What threw him most, however, were the two things sticking off of his head like antennas. Were they horns of some kind? Slater quieted as he heard the man speak in a voice between a young boy’s voice and gurgling as though it were coming from several different voices. It was almost impossible to make out but he could pull out words. “No…..can’t…… he……. ready…..stupid………Syrach….” Slater leaned in further to get more volume to the man but suddenly he slipped on another dark red puddle and fell forward, hitting the ground with a thud. He threw himself upward again to try and catch the man red handed but, before he knew it, there was no light. “Hey! Come out!” he called as he waved his spotlight over spots in the room. Suddenly, there was a loud CLANK and Slater was speeding towards the exit. He didn’t bother calling for back up with his fellow officer, Tony, in the most skeptic mood. He simply ran as fast as he could, turned to lock the door and speeded off into his cart, where he made a U-turn to his original destination. A red figure stood on the building of the gym with a grin. “That sucked. He’s not close to being take-able.” He watched as the little cart buzzed away and almost hit a lamppost. “For a little human, he was a little chubby.” The red figure looked up at the moon and grinned before turning and flexing a bicep. The ball of muscle that formed was blump and almost formed a double peak but, just as it was getting pumped, the arm wiggled and bubbled like bubbling water in a pot. “Fuck, I can’t keep the form without him” he said as he looked out into the distance. “Better get back before he wakes up” he said as he jumped into the sky like an elegant bird, jumping from roof to roof. He heard a small yelp in the distance. He looked over to the city and grinned. “Ok, maybe one more work out.” --- Casey looked up at his ceiling and scratched the brown fur on his chest. He was alone in his dorm room, the building quiet as everyone was off on their weekend. He’d planned to hang out with Kenny for the weekend, maybe watch movies and hang out in town. That didn’t work out it seemed since the past few months went by. Casey had to pull back on his social circles a little to gain weight and move up a weight class. His muscles were still has hard as ever, just an extra 10 pounds of hard earned flesh. What he didn’t expect was that Kenny joined him. Kenny was growing like a weed since his win and had continued pulling wins even as he skated up 2 weight classes! Casey grew hard thinking about Kenny and stuffed his hand into his pants. Being around Kenny was a lot harder since he’d started sprouting like a late blooming social flower. Kenny, along with gaining 2 inches of height and roughly 20 pounds of tough beef, had begun to do things very unlike Kenny. It started slowly with adding more weight than he normally would, showing he was breaking his mental shell of being stuck at his normal strength. Then he began to talk to people by looking them in the eyes, though he still didn’t necessarily puff his chest out or show off any kind of new found narcissism. Casey was happy he kept some things like wore big clothes to try and hide his new muscles. The fact that Kenny was so shy also made him adorable to Casey. And then there were other things like— Casey quickly shuffled his cock to a comfortable but less noticeable position and pulled up the newspaper beside him to appear innocent as the dorm’s door unlocked and Kenny walked in. Kenny was sweaty from his second run in with the gym and was wearing a thick hoodie and running shorts that went past his needs. Casey grinned and tried to distract him while he tried to have his hard cock soften more. “Working hard at the gym I see” he said with a grin as he watched Kenny throw his bag onto their couch and pull off his hoodie from the bottom. Casey grit his teeth as he saw the muscles underneath flex and glisten in the afternoon light. “Oh, I don’t think it’s much” he said as he was clearly turning red and scratched his red hair in the way Casey loved. He’s so cute, he said as he watched Kenny pull at his shirt to get air onto his body. “You know, you can take off that shirt if its so hot” he said as he lay glued to his position. His cock wasn’t going down as he smelled the strong masculine scent from his sweaty roommate. Kenny looked over at Casey like an innocent creature begging for his life and Casey grinned and threw off the newspaper, quickly wrapping his arms around Kenny. “Come on! Show a little more skin!” he toyed as he grabbed at the bottom of Kenny’s shirt and began to pull it off. Kenny fought back as much as he could and really tried. Casey noticed it instantly as he felt the resistance and had to push to really try and get it off. Was he really this strong after the gym? He was standing in a sweat puddle practically! Casey gave it his all and, with a whoo, had yanked Kenny’s shirt off. Kenny stood defeated looked at his roommate with frustration. Casey’s mouth lay open as he saw the muscles on Kenny’s body. Each muscle was well carved and taut. His pecs were his best feature as his freckled chest and reddened nipple framed their size. Casey was frozen in place for a moment. Kenny didn’t notice as he extended his hand. “God, fine! I won’t wear a shirt, happy?” he said in the most frustrated expression he could make. Casey was petrified for a moment before moving again and handing the shirt back. He’d seen those muscles under a singlet before but nothing matched looking at them with bare skinned view. Kenny’s back muscles bulged as he turned to his stuff to pull out new clothes and get some new clothes. 177 pounds made some amazing curves on a lean body of only 5’9. Casey watched him head to the bathroom before he saw him stop at the door. “What?” Casey said as he watched Kenny stop and look over at his bed. Maybe he shouldn’t have jacked off the two times before Casey arrived. Kenny looked at the newspaper heading and picked up the newspaper and stared for a moment. He looked back to Casey. “Who’s this?” Casey recognized the heading. “Oh, it’s just some weird vigilante running around. Last night he saved a little girl who was held hostage at a bank robbery. Apparently, my dad said the press had a field day. Kenny looked at the paper again and grimaced. The man was jumping onto another roof from the bank’s domed one but he saw one thing if he squinted hard enough. Kenny set the paper back down and turned back to the bathroom, Casey’s eyes training the imprint his butt made in those basketball shorts. Casey took a breath when Kenny left the room. There always seemed to be a magnetic feeling for him when Kenny was near. He had yet to place it as he went to his bed, flipped the sheets, and then began switching clothes himself down to his white briefs. “You coming to the athletic department’s banquet?” he called as the shower water started and he pulled up a pair of jeans and sifted through shirts. “No thanks. I’m just going to take a nap!” Kenny called through the noise. Casey chuckled a little. Kenny’s “naps” were much shrter than they used to be. Usually not having much energy from staying up watching tv late, he used to only sleep 5 or 6 hours at a time. Now, he didn’t even sleep for 4, contradictory to the excess of energy he showed every day and at the gym. “Ok, I’ll save you a slice of something for dinner” he said as he put on a jacket and headed out, grabbing the wallet on their living room table and headed out, locking the door behind him. He walked off with the image of Kenny’s butt in his mind. Why couldn’t he tell him how he really felt? --- Kenny walked out of the shower and wrapped a towel over his body. He’d had to get used to the fact his back was a good bit wider than it used to be and he was starting to look really athletic. Staring into a mirror was no comfort for more than one reason. “You saw that too” he said into his reflection before it began to move on it’s own and sat on the reflection of the toilet, scratching his crotch hair before spreading his legs, still covered by the towel. “Saw what?” Nick said with a grin. “The eyes on that picture. They were red.” Nick rolled his eyes. “And you think it was me.” “Of course it was you! I just don’t get how yet!” Nick started to scream. “Oh calm down before you wake up the neighbors. There are demons other than me, you know.” Nick’s eyebrows raised at the notion of more of Nick running around, making deals with other people and doing what he did with Kenny. The past few months weren’t bad but he didn’t like the changes. He’d begun to sleep a lot less than he would have liked, giving him less dream time. He also always had a bunch of energy he didn’t know what to do with pretty frequently, especially at night time. He’d woken up several times to find himself humping his mattress or with energy that he couldn’t get rid of without at least 50 or 60 push ups for 3 sets a piece. “So there’s probably another demon running around doing what you’ve been doing to me?!” Nick turned to Kenny and looked at him offended. “Excuse me? What I’ve ‘been doing to you’? What exactly is that?” Nick stood up as though he were about to start a fight and pressed his hips to his waist, knocking the reflection of the towel off and revealing Kenny’s body in perfect reflection. “Have I been giving you more energy to get stronger? Giving you an adrenaline shot of confidence every blue moon?” he started before looking at the reflection of Kenny’s cock and grinning as he grabbed it and started hardening it. When it was to its full hardness of 7 inches. “Giving you more inches where it counts?” he said with a grin before pointing behind Kenny. Kenny turned to see the marks on the bathroom door. He’d been recording his height over the past few months. “I might have done some of that. Maybe not all of course.” Kenny hated arguing with Nick. He always made an argument into a one sided argument. Even talking to him now was more than Kenny was ready for. He was making these changes seem much better than he’d been looking at them. “Oh, you’re sorry. Great.” Nick said in salty manner before sitting back on the toilet, still naked and still hard. “You should be more concerned for other things anyway. You’re social skills still suck even when I help you.” “That’s none of your business” Kenny said, sparking anger again. “Of course it is. Do you remember the contract? I’m supposed to fix you, not help you. Your issues aren’t even that big of a deal, anyway.” Nick posed in a girly tone and waved his hand flamboyantly. “O-M-G, I gained 2 inches of height, have more friends, got bigger, and got Casey to stare at my ass as I go to take a shower.” Kenny was angry until that last reference. “What? Really?” he said with wide blue eyes. Nick looked at him in his pose and grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that important information?” --- Kenny was walking down the cobbled road of the college facilities, his clothes loose as usual but his feet hurting. He was off to go buy shoes as his current ones were tight around his feet. He’d caught himself a few times massaging the muscles to try and ease pain. He had still been thinking about what Nick had said about his growth and how he was making it a big deal. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that he was getting a little taller. It wasn’t anywhere near his 6’5 older brother or his 7’7 older older brother but it was definitely better than the 5’7 height he was used to. Still, he wasn’t sure he could handle so much change so fast. He still wanted to stay him as much as possible. That wasn’t as much of an issue when Casey was concerned of course. “He….he checked me out” he said with warm cheeks, tripping over a cobblestone. “Whoa!” he said as he steadied himself. His coordination had gotten much better since the start of these changes. He would have seen that jutting cobblestone a mile away normally. When thought it was Casey again, he turned redder and tried to brush it all aside. What he didn’t notice is his yawn as he closed in on a lamppost. Didn’t he have a nap already? Kenny decided to stop and rest on a nearby bench for a moment and spread himself out. He was kind of tired for some reason as he leaned his head back and looked at the lamp overhead shining down on him. “Just…for…..a minute…..” --- Kenny didn’t remember his dream much. He remembered flashes of it but not anything precise. He was sure that, through the dimness of his eyelids, he’d seen the moon. He’d also seen the nearby city and the lights it shone as he was flying over the rooftops. Kenny remembered a specific rooftop where there was a man standing on a roof. The man looked at him puzzled as though he was just as shocked about Kenny’s presence in the dream as Kenny was of his. Kenny remembered the man falling over the edge and Kenny reached out to grab him before it went black. The last image was the man falling to the ground beneath him before blackness. --- Kenny sat as he woke up from the strangest dream he’d seen in a long time of dreamless nights. Kenny looked around and saw that Casey was on the couch, his big feet on their coffee table as he ate Ramen noodles like a typical college student. Casey looked over to Kenny as he sat up abruptly and raised an eyebrow. “You ok, bud? You were dead as a rock in your sleep.” Kenny felt sweat on his forehead and put his head in his hands for a minute. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of his bed. He stood with wobbly legs as though he’d done way too many squats at the gym and stretched with one face over his eyes. Just a stupid dream. He noticed Caleb didn’t have a newspaper today. “No news today?” he asked. Casey just pointed to the television and Kenny walked over to it. “Welcome to the 21st centry, Ken” he said as they both watched a news woman stand in front of her greenscreen talking. “Last night, the masked red vigilante was spotted in the most peculiar of ways. Witnesses were the police and the rest of the tri-state area as an executive of the city’s electrical power company fell from the Cretts Building with the clear intent to commit suicide. The masked vigilante was seen jumping off after him, catching the 45 year old man and slamming into the ground with him in tow. Though G-forces dictate that the man AND the vigilante should have died on the spot, both were rendered safe on the ground and quickly swarmed by ambulance to check the condition of the frantic executive.” Kenny stared at the screen in silence and grabbed his legs as though he were having a sudden flashback to an old injury he no longer hand. He heard Nick in the back of his mind chuckling. Oops, looks like I got some ‘splaining to do, huh? To Be Continued….. (hopefully way sooner than the year’s time it took to update this story)
  19. Mickyh29

    dominance Big Jack Pt1

    Hey Guys, been a while since i last posted a story on here, so heres my newest entry. enjoy!! This is a story about Jack, Jack is no ordinary 19yr old……………. “COME ON ONE MORE!!!!” shouted Dean, Dean was jacks training partner. “ARRRGGGHHHHHH” grunted Jack as he lifted the last of his 12 reps on bench press on to the rack, jack stood up and looked in the mirror, staring back at him was a sight that drew gasps from both dean and others in the gym. Jack was a 6ft brick shit house. His chest was rippling with thick dense rock hard muscle, the vest he had on could not contain the sheer size of his pecs, they were so thick every time he breathed in the vest would ride up his torso And begin to tear under the sheer mass of his chest. “add another 25kg on each side mate” he asked dean Dean placed the weights onto the bar which was already loaded with 300kg, bringing it upto 350kg. Jack repped out another 12 reps like it was nothing, re racked the bar and got up again. “This is to easy, I need a real challenge! Whack another 100 on!” Dean added the required weight so that the bar had 450kg loaded on it. “ Man this is crazy shit jack, can’t believe what you’re doing, your pressing over 4x my body weight!!” “Well when you’re as big n strong as me there’s no room for light weights, its heavy as fuck or nothing at all, you don’t get pecs like these by lifting sissy weights!!” Jack bounced his enormous pecs, each bounce shifted his perilously frail vest close to breaking point. Jack laid down on the bench, got his tree trunk arms into position and with a mighty grunt lifted the bar from the rack, each rep was greeted with an almighty grunt, his pecs were bulging with blood pumping round his massive chest. Jack managed 8 reps before re racking. He stood up. “Arrrghhhhhh, im fucking pumped man, look at me? This is what u call pure beastly muscle!!” Jack was pumped, like nothing anyone had ever seen , he moved closer to the mirror, ripped off his vest to reveal the rest of his enormous body, his pecs still filled with blood and rippling from his bench press, sweat was dripping down to his stomach which resembled a block of marble which had had eight large chunks carved into it, his triceps were also rippling from the routine, his tri’s n bi’s were huge at least 35” round, veins snaking down to his beefed up forearms, his giant boulder shoulders looked strong enough to barge through brick walls, his meaty traps stretched up his thick bull neck and his lats were two thick slabs of rock jutting out of his sides. It truly was a sight to behold for everyone not at least dean who was trying so hard to hide his erection going on in his pants. “Jesus jack you look incredible, I’d hate to see a guy cross you!!” dean said with a hint of jealousy. “if they did, they would end up like this!” Jack picked up an olympic sized barbell with no weights on and began to bend it in half like it was made out of rubber, then tossed it aside. “anyway dean im 400lb of freaking huge muscle, I’d be surprised if anyone would cross me!!” Dean gave a laugh of a guy who was like ‘yeah I suppose so but really wanna see it’. “true enough, ok now its my go!!” Dean was inferior to Jack in height, weight and strength so before he could even start his lifting he had to take 400kg worth of weight of the bar. Dean was only 17 and had the physique of a track n field athlete, so he was fairly toned with a bit of size but that size looked skinny compared to Jacks mammoth size. So with 50kg left on the bar dean started his routine. Even though Jack and Dean were good friends jack always took the piss out of dean for his inferior showings, mostly to try and spur him on but also to show his superiority and dominance over him, dean could not help but feel intimidated by jack, he daren’t tell him to shut up or go away in slight trepidation of what jack might do. “ Come on you skinny git, call that heavy lifting I can’t even see your pecs there that small and feeble, if you don’t start tryin harder im gonna crush you, now LIFT!!!” jack’s booming shout reverberated around the gym. Dean finished his first set and sat up, “ Jesus jack im tryin alright!!” Dean bit back a little. “that’s not trying that’s playing safe, you wanna grow ? You want to lift heavy!!! That isn’t heavy look!” Jack then proceeded to lift the loaded bar of the rack with one hand and start repping some shoulder presses, after 20 reps he re racked the bar. “see!!” “alright jack stop showing off ya big headed freak!!” dean sarcastically replied. “Jealous you skinny fuck? Well you better be coz unlike you I wanna grow! I wanna get bigger and stronger than ever before.” “ well maybe you do mate but im an athlete, my sport does not require me to get big n bulky, so i maintain what I have!” Dean tried to hide the fact he actually likes jack being all dominant etc coz it makes him hard, and whether jack will like the fact that dean loves being with this muscle mammoth. After dean had finished his chest routine he and jack decided to hit some biceps. As Jack was so big and strong the dumbells the gym had were to light for him so jack had to curl using an Olympic bar and plates, he started of light by curling 100kg for 15 reps, “easy!! Whack another 250kg on dean.” Dean added the weight. Jack composed himself, lifted the bar off the ground and slowly started to curl the 350kg bar, with each curl his massive biceps ballooned to unprecedented sizes, thick veins popped and stretched with every move, after hitting 10 reps he placed the bar back on the floor, looked in the mirror and hit a double bi pose, his biceps bulged and formed a gargantuan mound of granite muscle that looked bigger than his head, he relaxed then hit it again this time managing to squeeze an extra inch on top of his already impressive bi’s. Dean had never seen jack hit a bi pose before, his cock was now so hard it was making an impression in his shorts. “ WOW jack they are awesome man fucking huge!! Im gobsmacked!” “I can see your impressed, I only have to look at your shorts to notice that, ya big gay, come over here?” Dean walked over to where jack was, the size comparison was breathtaking, next to jack dean looked like a twig. “take your top off” jack asked Dean didn’t dare disagree so he took his shirt off, his tight body glistened with sweat. “now stand infront of me and flex!” Dean flexed his biceps, moderate sized peaks appeared from his arms, they looked pretty cut but looked no bigger than 15”. To rub the salt in more jack then flexed his bi’s behind him, his bi’s clearly 3x the size of deans. Then without warning Jack picked dean up and started curling him, every curl took deans face to within cms of jacks biceps, jack curled dean 20 times before putting him down. “you like that gay boy, your cock sure did!!” Dean looked down and saw a dark grey wet patch were he had cummed, he looked up and said, “ that was awesome!!” Jack and Dean made their way to the changing room.
  20. Umpires by F_R_Eaky Part III Part One: Part Two: Callum tried to call out for help, but the campus was deserted; everyone was partying for the week end at Dubbdub Hall. Realizing no one was going to come to his aid, Callum started dragging Connor towards his dormitory. Once there he was able to get the desk attendant help him carry Connor to his dorm room, explaining that the pair had run into a belligerent drunk out on the quad who decked Connor and ran away. The clerk commented that since Connor was completely out and a large wet spot on his groin, they should probably get Connor looked at in the hospital for a concussion. Callum explained it was alright as he was a pre-med student, son of a prominent neuro doctor and could take care of his "roomie" once there. The clerk shrugged a "whatever" and walked down the hall towards the elevators to go back to his post. Staring at Connor for a bit, Callum wondered what to do. He thought that Connor, for a stalker, wasn't too bad looking. His face peaceful and handsome in unconsciousness. Deep, dark, burnt umber hair cascading into his face, over his eyes. Almost a member of the tall set, his long lithe 6' 1" track style body stretched out across the bed of Callum's roommate. No worries there; the roommate was on a trip back to the parent's house and wouldn't be back until late Sunday evening. Callum wished he could do something to help out Connor, more in the area of his creamed underpants. That'll hurt like hell once it dries, but it would be inappropriate for him to undo the pants of someone he doesn't know, let alone wash his privates. Instead Callum placed a few good pillows under Connor's head, laid a bar of soap and washrag and a towel at the head of the bed, and then went down and pulled off Connor's sneakers so at least his feet wouldn't sweat to death while Connor was asleep. "Damn!" Thought Callum. "He's got some big ass feet, even for his height. But, he's not that much taller than me." Indeed. Most of the guys Callum knew between the 5' 11", his height, to 6' 3 - 4" range of height usually wore a US Men's size 12, himself included. Sometimes a size larger or smaller, but Connor's feet were pretty damn huge. "No wonder this guy is on the track team. He jump starts with these feet and just the motion of rolling forward on the balls of his feet should propel him a foot...." Checking the inside of the tennis shoes, Callum could make out the size tag and read it as size sixteen and half. Callum's heart leapt up....Connor does have big feet. Callum liked big feet. He liked big men period. He always wanted to be a big man too. Despite being in the nerd class according to most of society, he had always managed to keep up a good, decently in shape and strong build. He tried for years to push himself further and harder to go beyond his "light" trainer's build, but it never happened. Not only had his body stopped growing up at five foot eleven, but it refused to gain any more muscle weight as well. Sitting there for a while staring hard at nothing, Callum began to smell the musky scent coming off of Connor's big dogs. The feet didn't stink, but they definitely had a scent to them and it was beginning to arouse Callum. Looking up to see if Connor was stirring, Callum began to peel a sock off of Connor's left foot. Once uncloaked, Callum marveled at Connor's foot. Studying the lines of veins crossing this way and that over it. He held it and felt its heft in his two hands and began to caress the long but strong toes. "hmmmmmm" Callum nearly dropped Connor's foot so that it would've hit the end of the bed. Fearing that Connor was becoming conscious, Callum tried to hide what he was doing by placing a pillow under Connor's left foot and then grabbed a frozen pita pocket out of his personal fridge and placed it on top of the ankle. He then crawled into his bed, faced the wall to hide his growing erection, and drifted off to sleep. Rising early in the morning since their encounter and fainting only took place around ten in the evening, Callum turned over on his bed and looked across his dorm room. Connor was gone. After looking around he noticed that on the desk that made his head board was the soap, the washcloth, and towel used but neatly laid out to dry. There was also a note that said, "Thanks" with three dollars on top of it, and a drawn arrow pointing over the desk edge and down to the waste basket where lied the limp, soggy, and warm hot pocket still in its wrapper. **************************************************************************** "I'm telling you guys, he's got to be one of us!" "Connor, I'm not buying it. Unless you're on the track field, you are usually an unconcentrated mess." "Not when it comes to our powers and what we can do, Sebastian! I'm telling you, I've tried like three times, full on concentration, like full mind power of Professor Charles Xavier of the X-men and nothing happened. He should have size 33 feet by now!" Saturday afternoon and the "strangers" have hooked up, except for Zachary who was on his way back from a morning wrestling meet. "Look, Rabbit, I'm with Bast on this. Usually you're the one of us to get distracted. Can't focus. Can't concentrate." "And, might I add to Mas's statement," Sebastian said, "You're also the one who usually chants the least, afraid you're going to give someone clown feet for real, so I doubt you've been concentrating and chanting enough on him that he'd suddenly have skis for feet." "Ho, guys!" "Hey, Zach." "Someone have feet for skis? Who we talkin' about, Callum Addams?" "YES!... Woode, you've got to tell them about Callum. I've been trying and they don't believe me." "Wait, so both of you have been concentrating on him?" "Yeah, Bast. I did one day after Connor told me he had two attempts and nothing happened. I figured it's be okay because it if wound up working, the kid could then be one of those guys who winds up proving the wife's tale about big shoe size and feet means you have a huge dick." "So, what happened?" "Nothing. It looked like he felt something, discomfort maybe, but there was no rise in his crotch bulge." "SEE! And when I did it he didn't start limping around like his shoes were too small or his feet burst out of them." The quintet stood there in a silence that hung longer and heavier than Jonah Falcon's cock. Finally Brook broke that silence. "You know Zach concentrates. Him and I both do because we can't afford to make men look like it reads, 'inflate to 3,000 pounds per square inch' across their genitals, even with Zach liking his men hung. So, what are we going to do Bast?" "I'm not sure." "Hon, you know the only people who aren't affected by our powers are others like us." "One other, Mason. There's only one other, and I am aware of that. Taking him on though... what is his power going to be? What can he increase?" "The Great Booke of the Family doesn't say?" "No. It just lets us know there is one other. A legend, really. Not a member of our family, yet somehow born of it. What else could it be? I grant muscle size and strength, you grant height, Woode grants cock size, Brook - testicle size and increased sperm count, and Rabbit...our lil' Connor boy, grants bigger feet. The only thing left would be the mind." "He is a little nerdy...very bright.... here on a scholarship." said Connor. "It's one thing to have men our age suddenly shoot up in height and musculature and all, but I don't think we could hide nor have accepted increased head size." Mason came up behind Sebastian and wrapped his arms around the other man's shoulder and waist line in a hug. "So, babe.... what do we do?" "I don't know....I'm just not sure. We need to see what kind of guy he is personally." Connor spoke up, "He's a really nice guy. Everyone I've been able to speak to about him have said really nice things and... and....." The rest of the quintet turned and faced Connor. "Out with it...." "Nothing really, it's just... he caught me last night." "Caught you? He confronted you?" "Yes." "What did you say?" "Nothing. I didn't get a chance to. You four were making out and then started chanting my word." "Oh gawd!" "I tried to resist.... but suddenly I came like nobody's business and passed out. He drug me back to his dorm room..." "And did what?!?" "Nothing! He did nothing." "He left you full of cum coated shorts?" "Yes. Took me an hour and a half in the shower this morning to get them peeled off. He thought I passed out from something. He knew I had creamed myself, but he left a washrag, towel, and soap near my head, and he did take off one of my shoes and socks." "He took off one of your shoes and socks?!?" "Yeah, but I don't think he realized both my dawgs were huge. He elevated that bare foot and then placed a frozen hot pocket on it to ice it down." Mason looked at Sebastian. "Very gentlemanly of him." Zach stepped forward, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, but what did he do before hand?" "Uhm....." Connor blushed. "I think he tried to massage my foot..." "You think?" "Alright, I'm pretty sure he was caressing and admiring it!" "Aha! Despite you stalking him, he found you cute and he likes big feet." Mason asked again, "Hon, what are going to do?" Sebastian sighed deeply.... "First thing is determine if he is one of us. Zach, Brook, go get the room ready. Connor, you said you've been following him?" "Yeah." "You know his routine pretty well then?" "Of course." "Alright. Tonight then, let us plan a proper introduction." ************************************************************************** It's ten till seven p.m. in the evening on Saturday night. Callum has gone to the library to get some extra studying done to try and clear his head of an image, an image he finds sexy. It is of a foot, and he can imagine it as a pair of feet, thinking that like most people, usually the right foot is close to a mirror image of the left. The owner of these feet he has found to be handsome as well, but the personality he knows nothing about. Well, except perhaps this guy is a stalker and is infatuated with him. Hoping to get studying done, Callum sighed about fifteen minutes ago and realized he wasn't going to get any work done, nor keep his mind off of his personal observer when this was the last building in which he caught the man stalking him. He packed up his back pack and walked out of the Library. "Why was he stalking me?" Callum thought. "Why are his feet so huge? Gawd! Why do his feet have to be sooooo...what? What the hell are feet anyway? Can you call them handsome? Or sexy? Why can't I get them out of my mind? Why am I thinking of his face? What is this I'm feeling and does it having anything to do with that sensation that happens when he's watching me from afar?" Letting out an exasperated blast of breath, Callum switch directions to change paths from his dormitory to go to a cabin. The grounds of the college were very nice and spacious and abutted against many a private, wooded property, one of which was actually the grounds for a lake. This parcel had many a secluded cabin with gardens and yards tucked in little forested cul-de-sacs which many professors rented to live in permanently or temporarily during the school year, or tourists used during the summer. Having held some very successful summer jobs and investments before starting college, Callum was able to rent one for the school year, which he knew he would need from time to time to get away from the noise and crowding of college life and company. But suddenly, there was a man, a fairly large man standing in the new path. He was broad, he was tall, he could probably easily take Callum down. Then... Callum felt it. That odd sensation he'd felt several times over the last couple of weeks. Striking him in the pit of the stomach, it spread out and radiated through his body, along his limbs, over his digits and out the finger and toe tips. "Whoa!" Callum shook his head. This time it was stronger than before. Not as a bad as about a week ago, but still somehow stronger. He looked down the path again and saw his adversary. Although unable to see his face, Callum could tell that the man was staring him down and staring him down with fierce intent. Quickly he turned and went to go a different direction. He made down this third path a number of feet until he came across another adversary. This one was quite a bit taller, maybe just as broad but not as heavily built. The sensation smacked him again in both the stomach and then the head, when he realized the sensation was the same as he just felt, but from two different type of people. Running back up the path, he broke out onto a more main one and attempted to take a fourth which turned out to be blocked by a third gentleman. Again, due to shadows he couldn't see the man's face but he could tell the shape and style of clothes. It was Connor. "What are you trying to do to me? Stalk me with a team?" Yelled Callum as he turned to run for another path, only to freeze to a staggering halt as the sensation over came him again. The quad. He had to make it back to the quad; there he would be safe. Turning to go down a fifth path to short cut to the quad, he came to an abrupt halt as there was another man in his way. This one was about his same height and build, perhaps a little heavier, but unfortunately he was also hiding in the shadows so that his face couldn't be seen. Callum nearly doubled over as if punched this time when the sensation hit him. Catching himself, he stood and began sprinting down the main path and hopefully to freedom. Yet again, there was a man. A tall, lanky figure of a man like some kind of damned toll booth officer in some scary medieval children's story. There was the sensation again, but afterwards, this time, the man began to approach him. Turning on his heels, Callum began a full out run as though he was a track star and ran right into what felt like a brick wall. "Hoooof!" "Easy there, friend. Yes, we are your friends, we may even be cousins. We needed to find out. Come with us and we'll explain everything." The man picked him up with ease in a fire man carry and began to take him down the paths, closer to where the dorms are located. Once there another man came up to him and gagged him, just as he began to get his breath and see straight after his collision with the behemoth that was carrying him. He was placed onto his feet and forced to crouch down amongst a line of bushes. "Callum.... we don't want to hurt you, and what we're going to explain to you sounds crazy, utter lunatic in thought, but we need you to watch and listen to us so you'll understand and then we'll give you some other answers later." Callum's eyes adjusting to the darkness, he began to make out his kidnappers... the Strangwich Strangers. "Listen... you've been feeling things and seeing one of us following you around quite a bit lately and there's a reason for that. You see we have this strange ability...abilities, as it is different for each one of us. We can make men grow. We can make women to a small extant grow too, but the thing of it is, we can't make ourselves grow. All the concentration and chanting we do at one another won't do a bit of good. This is how we met. How we discovered and knew we were related: our powers don't work on each other. That's what you have been feeling. Our powers have been striking you but haven't done anything to you. The only reason for that is you have to be one of us. "Now, I understand you're not going to believe us. Magical powers and all of that, like some kind of X-man mutant or Harry Potter magic shit. Trust me though, it's real. Feel again and then watch." The man stood up in front of Callum, looked him dead in the eye and then said firmly, "PUMP!" The sensation came over him again and then dissipated. It happened again four more times as the rest of the quintet stood in front of him and said their word. "You can feel that sensation, but nothing is happening, so we will need to prove ourselves and powers to you in some fashion. Look to the two corner windows of this dorm building and listen carefully." Callum glared at his captors but eventually stare through the bush and across the yard at the dorm windows. The window on the left corner there was a the silhouette of a man and a woman making out against the shade. The shadows disappeared slightly as the man leaned the woman back and they lay out, presumably, across a bed. Shortly there was some moans and grunts, although they sounded mainly masculine. Those became overshadowed by the sound of a shrill woman's voice. "Oh!.... Can't you put some more feeling into it? You need more motion to you ocean to make up for you being the captain of a dingy instead of a cruise ship!" There were more complaints about the tool with which the man was working and fucking the lady, but Sebastian whispered over them. "Poor dude. He's not a bad looking guy: around six feet tall, slight trainers kind of build, decent face, but if lacked any more in the penis department, you'd swear he was born with two belly buttons. This guy happens to be very savvy in the stocks & bonds, financial area so he's kind of loaded, and that's pretty much the only reason why this lady is with him. He takes her taunting and cruelty because he figures he's never going to get another lady to date him or be with him once they've seen what he has. "Over in the opposite corner dorm, we have a similar but slightly different story. There is a homosexual couple, and they are deeply in love for all the right and decent reasons, but one of them has a slight problem. His dick is ok... decent enough to work with, although nothing to write porn stars about, but his nads are so small one would almost swear he was a unic, a castrati, and man who was fix like a dog." Concentrating they then listened a little to the conversation of the silhouettes from that other dorm, who like the set before had embraced, kissed, and presumably assumed a reclining position on a bed or couch. "Ooooh.... mmmmmm....slurp....yeah baby give it to me... let me take...hmmmmmmmmm your seed." Sebastian whispered near Callum's ear. "Unfortunately for that one, when the seed does come it won't even be enough to wet the tip of his tongue. But now enter us, or in this case, specifically Zachary and Brook. Zachary's ability is to increase a man's penis length and girth, while Brook's is the ability to increase a man's testicle size and sperm count. Gentlemen, do your thing." And with that, Zachary and Brook first turned to look at and concentrate on the man in the left side door room. "Let's have him feel it first in his balls just a little addition there..." said Brook. "plump.....Plump....PLUMP!" "Oooooooh....." the man began to moan low and soft at first. It became a little louder and longer after a bit. "Now," said Zachary, "We give him what he and his lady friend wants. hump...." "Ooooh" "Hump....Hump....Hump....Hump...." "Oooooohhhh aaaaahhhh hmmmmmm" "Ah-OH! OH! Baby... you're actually beginning to learn to use that little pea shooter." "HUMP! HUMP!" "HMMMMMMMRRRRGH! OOOOH GAWD!" "AAAUUUUH! OH! SHIT! OOOOH BABY! Wha...? What's happening? You're filling me so well! AUUH! AUUUUH! OH GAWD! GAWD! YES! YES!...." "HUMP! HUMP! HUMP!" "EER! HUH! EER! HMMMM! YEAH! FUCK! SO! TIGHT!" "YES! YE-AAAUGH! OH! OH! WHAT THE AWWWWG! FUCK! SO BIG! TOO HUGE! SHIT IT HURTS! OH MY .....GAWD!" "AAAAWW YEEEEAH YOU LIKE IT NOW? AM I BIG ENOUGH FOR YOU?!" "AUUUUUGH NO! TOOO....SHIT! HUUUUUUUUNNNNNNGH!" "HMMMMMMM AH HMMMMMMMMMM MMMM yyyyyYYYYYEAH! FEEELS SO... SOOO... AH-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HOOO MAN! I'M A GOD NOW!" "OH! WHAT WAS? DID....DID YOUR....OOOH AHHH UUUGH DID YOUR COCK JUST TEAR THE CONDOM? OHHH?" "TEAR THE CONDOM? OOOOOH YEAH....IT...IT... IT DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID! HUH HUH HUH!" "OOOH NO NO! DON'T CUM... DON'T CUM NO YOU NEED A NEW CONDOM FIRST! AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!" POP! "AUUUUUGH FUCK YEAH! LOOK AT THIS BILLY CLUB!" "Ry....Ryan.... I might get pregnant.... I'm off my pills. You can't have a huge dick..." "Why not? I've had a huge cunt all this time!" "Ryan!" "No, Sheila! You've been with me because you want my money. You haven't cared about as a person ever. You've belittled me because I wasn't endowed. You've gone through my check book and bank account statements. Don't tell me you haven't; there are nail polish smudges on the envelopes and statements! I've stayed with you and put up with your shit because I thought no woman would every have me after they saw my lack of equipment. I didn't need nor wanted to be hung like a horse. Just an average dick would've done. That's all I prayed and asked for, but since this has happened....I'm not going to complain, just buy new accommodating pants." "You're not thinking of leaving me now! Your horse prong split the condom. You have to take care of me!" "No, I have to take care of the child, if you care to carry it. I'll be making enough money to help raise him or her, I'll even take the child off your hands if you don't want him or her, but I'm not staying with you. Don't need to now." There was the rustling sound of clothes being hurriedly put on, keys grabbed, and the sound of a couple of doors slamming. "You created a monster." Callum said mumbly through his gag. "He's feeling very powerful and lost in lust and virility right now," said Sebastian, "but it will wear off and he'll calm down to his regular self. However, he won't go back to her. She really has been secretly going through his check and savings books. She doesn't really care about him and never has. In fact, she's been seeing Brandon the football Captain on the side for the last couple of weeks." The six men then turned their attention to the other dorm room and Zachary and Brook did their thing again. "hump...Hump....HUMP!" "hmmmmmm hmmmmm (gag) uhhhch (pop) Uhmmmm Guy? Have you been using a penis pump or something?" "No... why?" "You cock just seems.... so much....bigger...." "What do you want to do? Stop, suck still, or have me hump your fine ass?" "Let's hump...." And the two men repositioned themselves and began to go at it. "aaah...ahhh OH! GUY!...." "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm fuuuuuuuuck.... Clint.... you controlling your hole? You feel so...hmmmmmmmmm tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!" "OH GAWD! Guy!" "Hmmmmmm huh...huh.... oh....oooooh....yes..... auuuh...." "Hump!" "Zachary!" "What? Both of them can handle one more inch. He's only eleven." "Like Ryan is now only twelve... Brook, your turn." "Plump....Plump....PLUMP.....PLUMP!" Guy began to feel a tingling over his balls. It increased the tremendous amount of pleasure he was receiving from his cock as he plunged deeper and deeper into Clint's ass. The new sensation of racking himself while having sex as his ever increasing in size balls began to heavily slam against Clint's buttocks. "Hmmmmmmr hmmmmr hmmmr huh-uh-huh-uh-huh...ooooooh" "OH! OH! OH! FUCK! AUUUGH! oooooh.... you're sooo big! Auwwww gawd, Guy.... I...I...AYIEEEE....I LOVE IT!" "Hmmmmm hoooo hoooo....hoooo... you love me huge?" "Hmmmmm fuck yeah! Ramp... OOOH..... up your weight training...AH! FUCK! OOOH! Become a huge dom for me. OOOOOH!" Mason leaned in towards Sebastian. "I think that's a cue for us to join in just a little." "After your lead, hon." "Trump...Trump...Trump....Trump!" "Pump....Pump....Pump....Pump!" Guy's frame began to rise up taller and broader, which in turn meant Clint's ass began to rise up off the bed a bit higher and higher. Clint stared up the length of his body to his lover at the end and his eyes began to grow wider and wider. Guy rose up to an impressive 6' 4" tall, and of course he cock and balls became slightly larger growing in proportion to the new frame size. Then Guy's muscles began to hunch and bunch, pulling in, expanding out. Lines and ridges of definition began to appear all up and down his body as his muscle heads and bellies began to inflate, bloat up, and then slightly shrink in to a very chiseled and defined state. He was smooth, taught, and hard. Guy now looked like a very tall gymnast who had to keep adjusting his stance, while fucking, as his muscles grew in and out. Clint was watching in awe, noticing the streams of sweat as the travelled down Guy's body. No longer did they simply flow straight down and off. No, now they had to rise and fall, sweep and curve over many a different mounding mass of muscle: down the brown, over the cheek bones, under the jaw line, around the chorded neck, sliding down the traps, pooling a bit at the clavicle and the little trench between the traps, delts, and chest. Finally cresting over the great globes of the pectorals, the beads of sweat careened down to latch onto a nipple until it grew and grew in size much like the body to which it clung and then drip on to the abs where it rolled and bobbed over each cobblestone like a sleigh over a series of snow covered hills. Some of the droplets we caught up in the forest of pubes while others made their way to the thigh. It was here they were joined by other streams that had traveled over the great mountain called, "Biceps" following the path of the great hidden river called "Blood" which it was so jealous of as it wished it could be inside, flowing through this marble like body, feeding and nourishing the muscles it was caressing all this time on its journey. Following the veins the beads rolled down the biceps and the triceps, to merge and meet around the elbow and the course over the many defining lines of the defined forearms and head for the vice like hands and finger tips of the hand. Cascading off the hands the pearls of sweat joined their brothers on the thighs and again rolled over and through, over and through the many hills and valleys that all the tear drop shapes of the front thigh. Some took the more scenic route and glided around to the buttocks, driving straight into the valley of the crack, coming out at the thigh and across the taught tight road of the hamstring. Once there the traffic all joined at the knee and formed a traffic jam at the calves where they drove off the human highway and collided into a pool at the feet that seemed to be stretching and growing towards them. The pool of sweat crying as it died away into evaporation wishing it could caress this form once again. "Thump... Thump....Thump!" Connor said. "There he should be a little more stable on his feet now." "! HA! AHHHH! OOOH! OOH! OOOH! HOOOOO!" Clint was spewing his load all over the place after watching the changes that developed on Guy. This in turn began to send Guy over the edge and his grunting and moaning as well as the more jerkiness of movement as he plugged Clint's hole showed. "Ooooh babe...hmmmm....pull it out.... PULL IT OUT!.....Shower me with your seed!" Guy pulled out with an almost sickening loud pop and began to stroke his newer, longer schlong, aiming right for Clint's face. Clint was about to be drowned. "Ooooh... AAAW .....YESSSSS..... AAAAAH UUUUUUGH..... GAWD!.......OOOOH OH OH OH OH OH............................................. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" Volley one. "ah-HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!" Volley two. "HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Volley three "HUUUUUUH AAAAAAH HRRRRRRRRR AAAAAAAAGH!" "HHAAAAAAAAAAAaaaawaHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OOOOO SHIT MOTHER FUCK DAAAAAAAAMN!: Eight....Nine...Ten.....ELEVEN....TWELVE....THIRTEEN.....FOURTEEEN! "Aaaaaaaaaugh.....hoooooo......uh-wah......huh........hmmmmf.......aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah......" Twenty! Twenty volleys of spunk rope came uncoiling from Guy's huge prick. The first one completely coating Clint's face and damn near all his hair. The last one looked small compared to the first, yet would make most people think of the impossible cum shots seen in most porn videos. Guy damn near passed out from the ecstasy, but weakly managed to fumble with his lover, Clint to the shower, which was soon to be clogged from too much cum. Callum stood there transfixed on what he had heard, knowing that it wasn't a set up. Neither of these couple's had been hired as actors. What this quintet of men could do was amazing. "Can we trust you to take the gag off now?" Callum nodded his head and Sebastian did so. "Will you follow us so we can explain this to you, and tell you why we think you're a part of us?" "Yes." Callum dryly whispered, and the six men walked down the trails and away from the dorms.
  21. This is an old story that I haven't quite yet finished. It's a different style to my usual stuff and is a bit clinical intentionally to help build a scene. What do you think should I carry on with it...? It's a slow burner so be patient Enjoy TC 28 DAYS BEFORE part 1 and 2 by Tattcub THE DAYS BEFORE THE 28 DAYS AFTER I never know where to start when people ask for my story. To be honest there are some days when I don't know what a keyboard is let alone type on one. There are some days when IT'S ALL ABOUT THE MUSCLE. That's it. Plain and simple. Here's my story, learn something from it while you still can and while I am still with you. We all know about the virus. It took the world by storm, turning everyone who became infected by it into slavering beasts of muscle. They were satisfied only by sex and seemed to become stronger and stronger the more they got. It is now know where the virus came from, well it wasn't a secret. It was me. I did it. I was it's inventor and the father of this brave new world HA.HA. I didn't realise what I was about to unleash would change everything. Please note the D designations are over a period of six months. They are just 28 moments I remember that brought all of this crashing down around our ears. D-28 My name is Damien Clements and I am a biochemist specialising in the field of sports medicine and nutrition. I have always been fascinated by the human body and its ability to overcome stress and adversity. I have studied every type of body dysmorphia there is and am something of and expert in the field. I have several colleagues whose skills and knowledge range from basic nutrition to psychophysiology. We are all involved in a secret government think tank known as the Proteus Group. Our job within the think tank is to come up with new ways man can adapt to the harsh environmental conditions on the planet in places that are still left to explore. The Arctic, deep deserts and the sea etc. As a group some of our experiments range from cross breeding crops to deal with tough conditions to gene splicing and manipulation. Okay before you start judging bear in mind I said we were secret not ethical. We are or rather we were a group of scientists given a carte blanche for our research and a blank cheque to go with it. If you were in my position you would have done the same given that sort of opportunity. We had been together for three years and were beginning to show some results on a particularly difficult problem. The main problem with spreading genetic information is how to transmit that information from and outside source into a host body. You can't just inject it as the hosts own immune system would recognise it as alien and destroy it. We had some disasters with that method I can tell you. Although now looking back at the notes and videos of the tests one or two are strangely arousing. All that growth... D-27 Damien Clements reporting on test no #112 We'd already decided to forget testing on lower forms I.E bacteria to molluscs and suchlike. Over the last 6 months we had made massive strides in our testing and had determined that a viral delivery system was the best way to transmit the genetic data we had isolated on the Alexander test. (please note that is under separate filing in data section 277 beta) Viral delivery was clean and fast and could be injected directly into a host subject. Our initial problem was which virus could contain that much genetic information without a) destroying itself destroying the information and c) Infecting the host with it's actual malady. To be honest it was the last point that the group had had problems with the most. Trying to toughen a cats skin to make it burn resistant isn't nice to see when the specimen breaks out in bloody sores all over your notes. It's also a wasteful use of the specimen. I have lost count over the number we've had to destroy in the last 6 months alone. We at least have an unlimited line of credit in getting more. Trying the various de-activated viral agents was time consuming until one of the others, David Simmons came up the idea of actually using a bacteria and a virus together. We infected the virus with the gene data and the bacteria with the virus. It was a particularly aggressive strain of Ebola (De-activated) Very contagious and spread by body fluids so we already had a good method of introduction into a hosts system. The body would fight and destroy the bacteria but would be too late to kill the virus as it would have had time to proliferate while the host destroyed the bacterial carrier. Sort of a message in a bottle in a bottle. The next test with a cat was a success. The skin toughened to such a degree that it was hard to scratch with surgical needles. Not impervious but a great start. The cat also exhibited slight increase in aggressive tendencies and put on about half a kilo. It was also very hard to get back into it's the one time it escaped. D-26 Clements report no: #223 We've now done several days testing with the delivery system and it works. Everyone is elated here. We're still collating the data but if things pan out as we have predicted we're going to start manipulation of the gene structures for more complicated changes to the test subjects physiology. We've decided to change from cats to something less aggressive. A few of our techs have been scratched or bitten by their charges so we've opted for guinea pigs. Clichéd I know but they really don't bite so much. The one thing we can't explain on the skin tests are the slight changes to muscle size and density. Nothing major but small increases on almost every subject. Reminds me of Alexander. We're not ready to start on muscle work yet. There are a lot of other considerations first, skeleton and other organs first I think. We decided to go slow and steady and not allow our success to cloud our judgement. David Simmons is ecstatic as the delivery system was his idea. I tried to suggest we continue to strengthen the system but Simmons insists on more testing first just in case there's any degradation or mutation in the genetic structures. D-25 Clements report no: # 245 It's been a week since we upgraded the delivery system and made the bacteria far more aggressive a delivery system. Simmons complained as usual but the stronger package means we can put more complex genetic instructions into the viral messenger. We've even Christened the project we're calling the viral system Project Nuncio. It's derived from a Latin term that means envoy. Nuncios were messengers from the Pope who had the powers to cross most boarders on Papal missions. Quite apt really. I have decided that we are ready to take the next steps and begin the inner physical augmentation sequences within the next week. We've seen some great progress with the skin and epidermal experiments. Next it's muscle and bones. The only downside so far that has been noted is the over stimulation of various of the guinea pigs hormone production glands more so in the males than in the females. D-24 Clements report no: #257 Okay now we're cooking with gas, to coin a phrase. We've had near enough a 100% success rate with the new Nuncio delivery system. It's performed better than any of us dared hope. The type of genetic information transmitted this way seems to be unrestricted in size or complexity. We've managed to augment the skeletal structures on numerous guinea pigs. They're structure and strength have improved by about 500 % in some cases. A prime example is when one of the specimens was being removed from a test gantry and was dropped about 20 ft into a ventilation duct that was opened for a maintenance inspection. The creature barely even noticed and started grooming itself. We are also noticing heightened sexual activity in some of the offspring of the test subjects. Even though these animals are naturally highly sexed. Onwards and upwards. I have scheduled the musculature enhancement series to start from tomorrow. D-23 Simmons report no #221 I am adding this to the record as my protest to the enhancement test being accelerated. Clements' judgement is clouded by our recent amazing success. I know that my delivery system made this happen faster but it doesn't make me any less uneasy about the speed with which we're progressing or the corners that some of my colleagues are cutting. We're scientists and we know full well the penalty for going against the natural order without due care. I will be making an official complaint after the first tests tomorrow morning. D-23 Clements report no #259 We had the first successful delivery of the musculature genome sequences this morning. We used one of the guinea pigs that had already had the bone restructuring sequence. So far no side effects or adverse reactions from the animal. I can't say the same for Simmons, somehow the restraining tape used on the animal broke after the test and Simmons went to recover the animal. It turned aggressive and managed to bite him on the palm of his right hand. Simmons received medical treatment for the small cut and as the animals are screened of any other infections he was cleared for duty even though he was given a broad spectrum anti-biotic just to be sure. I'll file all of the relevant data on the animal once the gene sequences have had a chance to work. D-21 Simmons report #225 We started the muscle augmentation tests yesterday. We'd injected the agent into the guinea pig and all was well. It was about half an hour into the test that the creature somehow managed to free itself from it's restraint and get out. I managed to corner and retrieve it but not before it bit me. I received treatment for the small bite and a shot of "just in case." That was yesterday. Anyway it was a small bite and doesn't even hurt any more. It healed very quickly. I also want to add that I made my complaint to the higher ups yesterday. We shall see what happens next. D-20 Clements report #262 Simmons has really stirred up the hornets nest. Apparently he reported myself and several colleagues for cutting corners and unscientific practices. Doesn't he realise we're on the cusp of something truly amazing. If things work as we have planned for so long we've got the keys to cure so many of the worlds ills. He's being a fool. I must try and reason with him. I can't at the moment as he called in this morning sick. He'd been checked after his bite but there was no bacteria infection from the guinea pig bite he had last week. D-19 Simmons personal. 17. I was contacted today. Top brass is concerned about my recent report and want me to take a deeper look into my colleagues activities. Thing is I know what they've been doing I just want them to slow it down. My bite from the other day has healed fully which is a little odd considering how deep the wound seemed to be. Ah well. I guess I was lucky. I am feeling slightly fluey though. Feverish and antsy even. Maybe even a little horny. I can't seem to settle. I feel as if my skin is moving. Must be the anti-biotics, D-18 Simmons Personal. 18. Has been a few days since I last made an entry and I am happy to report that I think I got over the little bug I had and to be honest I feel great! The anti-biotics worked a treat. I even think they sorted out the little bit of acne I had. I must admit I am feeling quite horny too. As if some-thing's been switched on somewhere. After the last couple of days feeling under the weather it seems as if all my senses have gone into overdrive. Everything appears a little sharper and in focus. Everything feels great, even sensual and I walked past Clements this morning and even though he's an egotistical prick he smelled great. I still feel a little sore though. I also think I've put on a few pounds over the last few days mainly because I've been eating like a horse. Whatever bug I had did nothing to suppress my appetite. I am back to work tomorrow. I am going to take up the investigation into Clements activities then. D-17 Clements report #271 After several days off sick Dr Simmons will be returning to duty tomorrow morning. It is good to have him back at this important stage. We are ramping up the test series because of the amazing results we've had so far. I am going to set up a full bone and muscle augmentation series on some of our smaller primates. I know Dr Simmons will have something to say about this but this is my operation and this will go ahead. The results have been too encouraging to stop now. D17-Clements personal. (file number unknown) So Simmons is back. Sanctimonious little shit. I cannot believe he would jeopardise the entire project by going behind my back and whining to the top brass. We have worked to hard to get to this point. Guinea pigs were to much for him. If he thought that wait till he sees the monkey. That will blow his mind and maybe he will see sense. If not then I may have to continue to distract the nosy bastard a little longer. D-16 Simmons personal 19 Was met at reception by the great man himself as I came back to work. Doctor Clements smiled and shook my hand and told me how happy he was that I was feeling better. He even commented how good I looked considering I had been ill. I smiled and nodded and even thanked him. He informed me that he'd taken the project to the next level and had started the series that morning on the primates. Several different species including a chimpanzee called Byron that I had brought in as a control. He was never meant to be tested. Clements continues to cut corners and rules the roost here as if he's a little tin pot god. His arrogance is breathtaking. If he wasn't so god-damned hot... Don't know where that last comment came from but he is a good looking man. Just because he's a prick doesn't mean I don't notice. I need to go to supply to get a new coat. This one seems to have shrunk in the wash. D-15 Simmons Personal 20 I can't seem to concentrate. I have been back at work for two days and even though Clements has started on the next phase of trials against my advice I can't seem to get motivated to do anything about it. Even though I was declared fit for duty I still feel strange. I feel fluey and sore all over but on top of it I feel stimulated, sexually almost all of the time. My clothes feel tight and I have found myself looking in the mirror a lot. Do I look different ? I don't know, can't seem to focus. I need to speak to Clements. He will want to hear these symptoms. I saw Byron this morning and I will admit the results were impressive. His mass has increased by about 15% making him bigger and stronger and more dominant than any of the other Chimpanzees. The thing is rather than become aggressive his dominance is different when he sees me. He just comes to me and wants cuddles or at least that's what he signs to me. We make it a habit of teaching our Chimps a version of ASL to help communication within the lab environs. Damn I think I just ripped my trousers... D-14 Clements report #281 The new range of tests have been an outstanding success. Even Doctor Simmons seems to have taken on a new enthusiasm for the series with the experiments on his favourite Chimpanzee adding another 15% of muscle mass. It does make the animal rather difficult to control and Simmons seems to have a connection with the beast so I let him deal with it. On a side note Doctor Simmons himself is putting on weight. He has requested several new items of clothing from stores in the last week. I will have to ask him to report to the gym more often. D-13 Clements report #292 We had to destroy the Chimpanzee. For some reason along with it's musculature and physiology it's libido was also heightened. Dramatically. Unfortunately to a point where the beast was unmanageable and was trying to copulate with almost anyone who came into the lab. It is very difficult trying to stop and incredibly strong and heavy primate in a sexual frenzy. It got so bad that none of the techs would go into the lab and nobody could approach. The creature seemed to be in a state of perpetual masturbation. The only member of the team who seemed able to approach with "interference" was Doctor Simmons. Interesting. I ordered him to enter the lab and destroy the beast so we could autopsy it and find out the cause of it's aberrant behaviour. He was not pleased and I thought he would get emotional as he does, but he seemed to see sense and went ahead and followed my orders on the condition that he did the autopsy. I agreed. I'll be interested in those results myself. If we have inadvertently triggered a gene that heightened sexual drives or stimulation that could be worth a considerable sum.
  22. Hey Guys, sorry there were no chapters last week. I had a personal issue that had to be taken care of so I took a break from the forum. But now I'm back and you better get ready. There are only a couple of chapters left to go and as you didn't get two last week, I will be posting the rest of Hard Mountain over the course of the week. Either daily from today or every other day, depending on how busy I be. I know some of you were expecting a little more growth wise but I said in the beginning there wasn't much in terms of muscle growth, but I like to think as this more of a human growth story. But the one shot I have ready to post once Hard Mountain is complete will, I think, more than make up for it. Bon Appetite! Chapter One Chapter Two Chapters Three and Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapters Seven and Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Hard Mountain - Chapter Twelve: Jack and Danny had set up a small camp on the summit so we stayed the night. I’d been exhausted from the ordeal of climbing Hard Mountain so I’d fallen asleep very quickly, the two of them spooning me from both sides, but I was refreshed in the morning. The next day we headed back to the cabin. Unsurprisingly it was faster on the way back and we got home in half a day. I went straight to my room while Danny and Jack got the cabin back in order. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to get used to who was looking back at me. I cupped my genitals in my hand, feeling their new weight. Walking with them had been a strange experience, as I wasn’t used to the extra size and weight; I’d had to adjust my stance and walk. There was a knock on the door and Jack entered, a huge bag in his arms. “Hey, just bringing your clothes back,” he said, putting them on the bed. “Listen, Sammy, I hope you aren’t angry at me or Danny for making you climb the mountain the way we did.” I turned and smiled at him. “I was angry at first but in the end, I’m glad I did it. At first I didn’t think I could, and there were times that I thought it was the end. But the further up I went, the more I learned about myself. Sure I almost died a few times but it doesn’t matter now, I did it and… and I finally got to get some closure over my Dad.” Jack pulled me into a gentle hug, kissing my forehead. “I was so worried the whole time we were waiting for you,” said Jack quietly. “I kept thinking the worst was happening but in my heart I knew you could do it.” He kissed my forehead again and it felt nice, comforting. “So I wanted to ask you if you felt like staying here the whole summer, not just for another couple of weeks,” said Jack. “Now that you’ve been given the gift of the mountain, I think it would be essential for you to start working on your body. Danny and I would be more than happy for you to stay and we have everything we need here to get your bigger and stronger. What do you say?” “Of course!” I said instantly. “I’ll need to let my family know though.” “Absolutely,” said Jack, grinning. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll take you into town. There’s cell signal there and you don’t have anything to workout in so we’ll pick you up a few things. I don’t think anything I have would fit you.” I got dressed (though I took a few moments to marvel at how my underwear bulged obscenely with the pouch full of bigger meat and the back filled out more with my bubblier ass) and Jack drove us to town. It was going to be an hour drive but seeing Jack squashed into his jeep, muscles bulging and demanding room even with the seat all the way back, was a hot sight to behold. Such a big man in a small by comparison vehicle that was bigger than any car I’d ever been in, an interesting juxtaposition. “Can I ask you something?” I said. “On your journey up the mountain… who did you see? You don’t have to say, I know it’s probably very personal.” “No, it’s okay,” said Jack. “When I climbed the mountain, I was in a very bad place. It had been a month since my wife had died and I was overwhelmed. I had a six-year-old kid to look after, alone, while I had to work and I was still grieving. All her things were still around the house and I couldn’t touch them, but they reminded me of how much I missed her. It was getting to be too much. My father suggested that I take some time to myself, agreed to take Danny for as long as I needed and I came out here. It didn’t help that I was alone, left with my thoughts. To be honest with you, Sammy, I wanted to die. “I missed Sarah so much, we had been childhood sweethearts and gotten married after college. She had been the love of my life and I just couldn’t go on, even for my little boy. But I remembered the stories my father had told me about the mountain and I had nothing left to lose in my mind. I climbed Hard Mountain and I saw her. I saw Sarah in the cave, her body… well, you can imagine what a car accident looks like.” Jack wiped some tears from his face and cleared his throat. I put my hand on his leg and gently stroked it. “So when I reached the top, she came to me,” continued Jack. “She told me that even though she was gone, I would find love again in ways I would least expect it. She said there would be two people in my life one day that I would love like I loved her. One, she said, I wouldn’t understand but that I couldn’t stop it. That was Danny when he was sixteen, that moment I told you about. The other person would be close to the first but when I met them, I would know, even if they hid their own feelings. That would be you. “I told her I couldn’t, that I wasn’t strong enough for this. All she said to me was that I needed to channel my pain into to something that would benefit me, would benefit my mind and body. After that day, I felt something deep inside. I gave up drinking, smoking, started eating right and began working out. Lifting made me feel good, it was addictive and I felt like I was unstoppable when I lifted heavier and heavier. “I’ve been 365lbs for the last couple of years. My body reached its limit, I think, but I keep getting stronger. That was her gift, the strength to carry on and the strength to carry others. I was more active and when I wasn’t at work, I focused on bringing up Danny. Though everyone has needs and I would go out, try and find someone. No one ever… clicked. I dated a few women but it never felt right. Once I was getting bigger, really filling out, men started giving me attention and I found myself attracted to them. I tried dating a few but it never went beyond sex. That is, until Danny went up the Mountain by himself and came back. When he started touching me… I felt it again. Love, but not a fatherly love. Something deeper.” “And then you met me,” I said, smiling. “Yeah, then I met you,” chuckled Jack, putting his hand on mine. “The moment I saw you, I felt it again. When Danny called and said he was bringing you to the cabin for the summer, he said we had to take you up the mountain.” “He did?” I asked. “Yeah but I was against it,” he replied. “You were the first friend he’d ever gotten close to so I didn’t want to ruin it. I actually thought you were pretty hot when I first saw you. And that ass…” I laughed but Jack’s crotch was bulging more than usual in his jeans. We reached town and I called my Mom, explaining that I would be staying the summer with Jack and Danny and she understood. I also talked with her about Dad and how I started to deal with losing him. It was an emotional conversation and she cried a little but she was happy I was finally accepting it. When the call was over, Jack took me shopping for workout clothes. I wanted to pay but he insisted that he did and that I could choose as much stuff as I wanted. Not that I minded, I was a student with hardly any money to my name. I picked out some stuff but Jack made some suggestions. I ended up with tank tops, shorts, sweats, jockstraps, shoes and a hell of a lot of Under Armour base layers. Jack said they were essential but I suspected he had ulterior motives, though I couldn’t wait to put them on. The bill came to a couple hundred dollars and I definitely felt glad I hadn’t been paying. We also made a couple of stops at the supplement store to stock up and then to Costco to stock up on enough food to feed a platoon. All in all, Jack must have spent nearly $1000 but he wasn’t fazed by the amount at all. When we got back to the cabin, I got changed into a compression t-shirt, a jock and some loose meshy shorts that just showed off my ass. It was time to start working out. Jack, having changed into a tight tank and some sweats, led me to the basement where Danny was already covered in sweat and finishing up a workout. Danny’s tank was sticking to his pumped chest and his shorts were bulging at the crotch as blood pumped through his veins. “Looking good,” I said to Danny. “Look who’s talking,” said Danny, running a finger over my compression shirt. “Now boys…” said Jack. “Remember, the basement is a sex free zone. The only thing you do in here is workout. Save it for later, after I’m done with him.” Jack slapped my ass with the back of his hand and I blushed. Danny stayed to encourage me while Jack showed me the different equipment and lifts, how to do them correctly. The moment I took the bar in my hand to do some curls, I felt my body quiver with excitement. I was feeling this incredible drive to lift, to grow, to be stronger. The more I lifted, the more I wanted to keep going. The feeling of my muscles getting pumped up, pressing against my clothes, was erotic yet powerful. After a set I would go up to the wall sized mirror and flex the muscles I’d just worked on, seeing them swell and bulge bigger than before. By the end of my workout, I already looked bigger. My tight shirt bulged from my pumped muscles, soaked in sweat. I peeled it off and flexed, my skin flushed with blood and veins poking up under my skin. The workout had been incredibly intensive, my muscles were pumped bigger than ever and my body looked solid. I’d never lifted anything as heavy as some of the weights in my life. My chest looked fuller, shoulders a little wider, my abs beginning to set in more, legs flush with bulging quads, swollen glutes and hard calves. My cock was rock hard too as I marvelled at my body; I was by no means the next Olympia but it felt good to see my body. Danny handed me a protein shake and we went upstairs for a post-workout meal. I was starving, my muscles demanded to be fed and I ate the most I’d ever eaten in one sitting. Four large chicken breasts and a big pile of veggies were in my belly and it felt good. I felt incredibly horny too, my cock straining the large pouch of my jockstrap. “Man,” I said, once I’d swallowed my last mouthful. “That was incredible. I feel so… different. Fuck…” I flexed my arm again, gazing at the small but hard lump sticking up, the slight vein poking out over the peak. Jack laughed and gave it a squeeze. “It feels good though, right?” he asked. Jack stood behind me and started kissing my neck, pressing his hard crotch into my lower back. Danny was pawing at his own crotch watching us, licking his lips. “Yeah, it sure does,” I replied. -- Chapter Thirteen: Summer can never last forever, but there is still plenty to learn before going back to school...
  23. Here's the original from 2 years ago! Part 1: Part 2: Part 3: Part 4: Part 5: Part 6: Part 7: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My eyes never left the size of my massive grandfather as he drank another large mug of beer, his large hand holding it as though it were nothing more than the lightest coffee cup. Dad had never spoken of his father before. Not even when he talked about our late grandmother. Still, I could instantly tell it was him as he showed off the family eyes. Questions followed in my mind as to why he had come and why how he had come without being seen on the news. I was picturing the news channel revealing photos of a giant riding a motorcycle just before a big muscled paw snapped in my face. "You still there, short stack?" he said as he put his mug down, making it a goal to avoid destroying his new one like he did the previous one. " I can understand you're shocked to hear that you have a grandfather but I don't wanna crack your noggin'" he said, his deep voice making what little beer was left in his mug shake. I swallowed as I tried to say something but had trouble getting the words out. I felt a big hand pat me on the back, causing me to almost fall off my stool. " Come on, shorty" he said as he tried to wake me up. suddenly, he grabbed me by the shoulders and, before I knew it, I was being lifted up off the stool to view the handsome face my grandfather owned. I felt myself melt as I looked into those eyes. Against any thoughts I might have had, the man in front of me was just too beautiful to look away from. My shoed feet were dangling in the air although he was sitting on a stool, the friction between my shoes and Grandpa James' large muscled gut sending intense chills up my spine. My cock was up to its rock hard 10 inches again and was in clear view for Grandpa James from my tented pants. When he saw it, a handsome, white smile went across his large and rugged face. " You youngun's are such an energetic folk, aint'cha?" he said as he looked back up at me, my body still hanging high in the air by his massive hands. " I'd fix it for your hot, little ass but I got to go see your dad" he said. Dad, I thought, what would he want with him after this many years? " Can you take me to your pop, shorty?" he asked as he held me like a toddler in his arms. I couldn't find a way to say no. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was hard for me to get back to the mansion without losing concentration. James couldn't fit in Jeff's extra large Hummer or else he would risk his head busting through the roof of the car (Made sense since he was standing at 24 feet tall and bulging at around 22 feet wide like a wall). In order to prevent this, he decided that, although he would have liked some time to get to know his little grand son, it would be much safer and less costly to drive his own motorcycle. Watching him drive was a real spectacle. No one would expect to see 24 foot giant driving around on a giant motorcycle with so much mass in tow. I was hard the entire way to the mansion. When we reached the door to the mansion, I had trouble getting myself to enter. It wasn't just because it was a heavy door but because I was worried about how dad would respond to his father coming back into our lives after more than 50 years. James leaned down and reached for my little ass, giving it a good squeeze with his fingers. I jumped forward with a start as I felt the intensely hot pain shooting through my ass. My crotch was just asking for me to rub off but instead I pushed through the doors. "SQUIRT!" I heard someone roar from the kitchen. I was taken aback as the ground began to quake from something big and fast coming to the front door. I felt myself leaking pre as I just I saw dad coming towards me like a rampaging wall. He was clad in nothing but an extremely tight looking red unitard that looked like the smallest stretch would cause it to tear. The basket was packed as it tried to contain all of the man that was my dad. It was like a second skin as I saw the big head peek over the pair of giant wrecking balls and try to stretch downward. Every muscle was in bold as dad moved, the muscles and veins tensing every time he tried to shift his weight. His bulging pecs were too high for the chest area of the tight material so the two bulging forms simply spilled over it, the two nipples just barely being covered by the tight straps. I was paralyzed as my mountain of a father came lumbering towards. He was a roaming muscle god in my eyes, coming down from his high heaven to show his presence to a mere mortal. I really took everything into perspective as he came fully upon me, merely a couple feet from where I stood and towering above me even more so. I knew that if I were to turn around and look at Dad and James with me in between them, I would experience claustrophobia from being in such an enclosed covering. "Hey there, little guy" dad bellowed as he kneeled down to reach my head and ruffled my black hair. He looked back up and behind me, indicating that he was looking at James. " Who might this be?" he said with a confused look on his face. I could tell that, in his eyes, this large man was a familiar face from long ago. I took a deep breath as I composed myself to form an answer. Dad, taking advantage of my silence, extended a massive hand to the opposing giant. " Hi, I'm John's dad" Dad said in an attempt to introduce himself. The gray haired beast took an equally massive paw and shook dad's hand. From my perspective, it looked like some kind of form was falling and rising above me like an object on a high shelf. It was during this moment that James spoke up with his timber, deep voice. " Hi, I'm your dad." The room seemed to move still for a moment as if nothing in the universe was sure how to proceed. I continued to look up at the two big men and that's when I saw it. The two hands being extended were in a tense battle, veins and muscle bulging against more veins and muscle as a battle for supremacy clearly began. " Well look who it is, squirt" Dad said with a deeper voice than normal, his anger evident and extremely noticeable. " It's the good ol' dead beat that left your poor grams" he said as his arm flexed fiercely. James' expression went from greeting to a wicked smile as the handshake continued. " I see you've been a good boy since I was gone" he said snidely. This was the point that drove Dad home as he raised his other big and hairy fist, one still in a handshake, and sent it flying towards James. At first James looked as if he was deciding whether to move but decided against it. With an explosion of sound, the powerful knuckles of my big dad collided with James' face. We were all shocked as James' smile grew bigger. His face hadn't moved an inch from it's position before, during, or after the punch. His blue eyes looked fierce as he looked into dad's. " Is that it, Jacob?" he asked, using dad's name. Quickly, he grabbed the big hand belonging to dad and formed a grip around it. " You could use a little more protein for your diet if you're gonna throw that weak of a punch" he said. In the middle of the tension, I thought I saw something that looked extremely familiar coming from James as a large wet spot began to form in the big and weighty pouch in his straining black pants. " And your supposed to be the Titan I helped create" he said with a trembling but powerful voice. Before my very eyes, I saw the knuckles of my grandfather expand around dad's, slowly outgrowing the opposing force it was holding. Everything about James was growing as he held dad in both a punch and a handshake. " Your mom didn't give you some manners, huh?" he said in a very authoritative way. " We'll fix that" The look on dad's face became pained as I could tell his knucles were being crushed under the power of his father, his knuckles cracking as he began to lose strength against the growing power against him. James' forearms became more and more pronounced in their tight leather jacket case. The biceps the jacket was trying to hold were quickly expanding too, making them resemble a big, growing black balloon. I jumped as I felt something kick my ankle. An enormous contained foot was growing bigger right next to me and popping the seams of the shoes that were suffering an onslaught of surprise growth spurts. James' gut grew bigger and hovered over me like a large muscle blimp, the hairy texture, trailing to his pants. Rips and tears were showing all over his body. James' head was inching higher and higher, surpassing dad's with ease and going higher still. Like building a wall, he became wider and wider, his shoulders spreading farther away from his expanding head and his gut pushing farther forward, making it harder to grab hold of dad's hand and fist. Suddenly, everything tore all at once in a chorus of shredding that left granddad in nothing but a pair thread bare black briefs. I was leaking from that surprisingly big reservoir of jizz that I seemed to always be expending. I was now shorter than James' knee and continued to appear tinier as he grew larger and larger. Dad fell to one knee, nearly falling on me as he found it difficult to avoid surrendering to the powerful hands holding him. His face was being stuffed with muscle and gut fur that seemed to be pressing more and more firmly into him, actually denting his steel-like muscles. His field of testosterone that always seemed to keep me of intoxicated was becoming inferior to the one expanding in front of him. I could tell dad was starting to look almost as enveloped as me when I saw his massive cock leap. " Backing down, pup?" James said with a beastly voice. It looked as if Dad was going to surrender when he suddenly smashed a titanic foot against the ground in a powerful STOMP that left cracks across the floor. "NO" he roared with renewed power, his entire body tensing as he tried to fight back. It was my mistake to think Dad was tensing his muscles as I watched them bounce with his power. I could see his body reddening slightly as everything swelled with new power. Dad was growing right now! I could hear his groaning and moaning as he swelled, his accelerating growth beginning to tip the scale between him and his father. The unitard he'd been wearing was stretching in response to dad but was failing quickly as it became too much to contain. With new power, Dad stood back up and fought James' grip. Muscle was filling the room as Dad and James grew at top speed, both of them rocketing in height. Their pecs were now pressed firmly against each other, along with their astounding cocks. As they both broke the 30 foot mark, I felt the ground shake as their power became faster and faster. For an instant, this caused James to flinch as he saw his son grow far faster than he ever thought possible. " You really are an irregular Titan" he said as his muscles began to shake against Dad's. It was too much power for him and his limited growth to take as he felt his knees buckle under so much power against him. I fell to the floor as Dad broke 36 feet and James broke 33. It was becoming clear dad was winning but he wasn't done. " Whats the matter, pup?" he roared as his body continued to grow. James fell to his knees as he quivered against the mighty power of his almighty son. His body was big and rippling but it was nothing compared to dad as his body seemed to show no limits. His growth slowed when he reached 42 feet but his grip remained blindingly powerful. James was on his knees as he tried to push back against the power and failed. " WHAT DO YOU COME FOR, YOU OLD FUCK?" Dad roared. James looked back up at Dad with pained eyes. " I wanted to see my un-fathered son before his destiny was fulfilled" James said as he continued to maneuver in his son's powerful grip. Dad let go as he heard the last words come from his own father's mouth. " Destiny? What destiny?" Dad asked. James rubbed his wrists as he stood up, standing more than 10 feet shorter than his towering son. " Bet you always wondered why I was never there." This remark pulled Dad out of his puffed state. James looked more comfortable after he saw the calmed giant. " Swell, now I can size down" he said. Right before our eyes, James shrank down like a sponge losing water, returning to his original 24 feet. James looked at me and Dad with a concerned face as he saw the surprised expressions we were showing. " What? Never seen someone shrink down to normal form before? You can do it too right, Jacob?" Dad's face was blank as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing. " No." Jacob's eyes widened. " So it's true. You're on an elevator that doesnt go down" he marveled. Dad's brow wrinkled. " What exactly are you?" Dad asked with concern. James made a deep sigh as he prepared to explain. " Us titans are supposed to be able to shrink down to a size between normal and huge. 24 feet is my norm, sonny" he said as he looked down at me and flexed. " It's decided at birth how small we're able to get and, as we get older, we can grow larger and more powerful with training. Normally, you wont be able to get any smaller than when you were 18. You were able to grow at will right?" he asked unknowingly. When Dad explained to him his condition, James didn tseem to be blinking his beautiful blue eyes. " So that's how it's going to be done. You cant shrink or growth at will unless your body triggers it for you. Which means..... you'll reach the destiny of the Irregular Titan." he said. I was still absorbing the information but I couldn't help but ask him. " What is this Irregular Titan." James looked at me as if I were some kind of alien. " The titans are a race of male growing giants with the power to control their growth and turn on other males around them. 'Course, they ain't supposed to get as big as your dad unless they never stop training" James said as he looked up at Dad, his vantage point of almost 20 feet fully setting in. " Normally, we start out as large children and then we get a few growth spurts before we get a switch in the body letting us turn it on and off." At this comment, James pointed at dad. " Your dear old pa here has the switch stuck on grow and can't stop it. Meaning his growth limit is...... limitless" A silence went through us as everything was being explained in black and white for me and Dad. Just before I could ask, Jeff walked in. " Hey, pop! Who's at the door!" he called to Dad as he walked in, standing at his new height of 10 feet tall. He stopped in his tracks before he looked at the large man in the room. " Who is this guy?" he asked as he walked up to an enlarged dad without any kind of notice. James raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, kid?" he asked as if something were amiss. Jeff looked at James with confused look also. " Who else? I'm his son" Jeff said, pointing to dad. James went white as a muscle covered and veined sheet, looking to me. " No shit..." "So we've got a defect in the family too." Dad was the first one to respond to this remark. "What do you mean defect?" James took a moment to speak as he fully concentrated on me. " I'm hoping it's nothing as long as your sons aren't 18 yet. Otherwise, it looks like you've got a kid who doesn't have a prayer on being a Titan."
  24. jman250

    muscle-growth My Pendant (Parts 1 & 2)

    Hey all, It's a rainy day here and instead of working, I decided to look through some of my old stories. I mostly lurk and crop up once in a blue moon to write (all in the old forum). This will be my first story here, re-posts by others excluded. I originally posted "My Pendant" back in April of 2014. It had two parts but I only ever posted one. Both are short so, I'm re-posting the original post and including the never-before-posted second part. I hope you enjoy! Part 1 I felt the pendant hanging on its thin fabric around my neck. Its heavy weight always comforted me, reminding me that it was something special. Nobody could say how it worked but those who’d discovered its secrets often tried feverishly, and unsuccessfully, to obtain it. I treasured the pendant and I kept with me always. I sat alone in a comfortable chair, looking out the wide window of my spacious room. The sun had begun to set casting a yellow haze across the world. This had become the best part of my day, the moments before my evening began. My mind wandered. Thoughts of dozens upon dozens of men flashed through my head, all beautiful men I’d slept with since finding the pendant. My cock responded instinctively, hardening in my loose sweats. Some of the men had come to me, some of them I had found and surprised. Either way, my sex life went from dwindling with age to expanding rapidly in the past few months. The aquamarine hue of my pendant twinkled in the light of the setting sun, making it shine brightly against the pale skin of my bare chest. I looked down on it as I reclined, breathing a heavy sigh. The gift I’d received did little for my own mediocre physique. At thirty four years of age, I’d given up trying to look my best. I left that for those in their twenties, helping out where I could. My arms were too small and my legs too thin. But that didn’t stop men from throwing themselves at me. The pendant filled my mind with a dull thumping, telling me that it wanted release. It wanted release for me. It granted me a power that, as far as I knew, could only be mastered by me. We had a connection, the pendant and me. Maybe it had to do with how it came to be in my possession; maybe others did not have the necessary concentration. Whatever the reason, the pendant made me special, and I loved it. As the sun set behind the distant hills, my wondering thoughts subsided. The cold air was beginning to prickle my skin. I got up and busied myself with preparations, throwing on a shirt and changing into tapered blue jeans. "Tonight will be fun," I told myself, examining the tall, slender figure in the mirror. I ran my fingers across the curly crimson hair atop my head, pushing it into place. I smoothed the ruffles from my shirt and pulled down so it fell tight against my small shoulders. Icy blue eyes glanced across my reflection approvingly. "Yes," I mused, "tonight will be fun, indeed." It didn’t take long to span the several blocks to the nearest gay bar. Sting, it was called. I’d moved close not too long ago. The pendant compelled me to move, though quite indirectly. I felt it thumping in my mind as it did almost constantly now. It needed to be near this mecca of men. I was all too happy to oblige, given my recently hyperactive sex drive. Both the college and the gym were within walking distance, making Sting the club of choice for hot twenty-something year old men and thus a favorite spot of my own. Most people stopped their conversations and gazed at me longingly as I entered. Firm, muscled bodies filled the already bustling crowd. Cocks hardened all around the room merely from my presence. I nodded here and there, acknowledging some of my better work but engaging nobody past friendly cordiality. Tonight would be special. The pendant agreed. I seated myself in a far off corner of the bar, watching people slowly return to their conversations. Some fretted, debating internally whether to approach my poorly upholstered vinyl booth. None did. They knew by my posture that I would have none of their attentions tonight. I instead gazed about the room, seeking out my next new find. As the evening grew long, more people crammed themselves into the confined spaces around the bar. Those who knew me fought for even one of my passing glances, hopeful of receiving gifts without upfront cost. But wistful expressions fell on most as my gaze passed by. Then, finally, a bit past my fifth free drink, I spotted him. All of the largely muscled men in the room took no notice of him. He squeezed his wet glass of intoxicating liquid tightly with both hands, moving his pretty brown eyes here and there to survey the beautiful men, happily oblivious of my lustful glance. His dark brown hair was patted forward with too much texture, and his low blue V-neck shirt exposed the beginnings of firm but far from significant pecs. Though short, his frame was thick. He certainly weighed more than I did but much less than most of the men in attendance. At any other club, he would have had a much better luck finding a guy. But he chose to visit Sting; a poor choice for anybody but the most beautiful of muscular men. I got up, leaving my most recent drink untouched. The loud noise of dozens of conversations found a lull as I made my way easily through the heavy crowd. The man in blue chatted noisily with his friends, apparently unfazed by the abrupt change from loud cacophony to mellow hum. Eyes danced about me frantically, focusing not on me but calculating my trajectory and possible destinations. At last I came to a halt behind a back that stretched wider than my own narrow frame. The thumping in my mind hastened and beat wildly, now. The pendant agreed with my choice. I tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello there." He turned at first with a smile but quickly began to glower. A glance up and down my body confirmed that I was, indeed, not what he planned for his evening out. "Uhm, hi," he said, turning hastily back towards his friends, who seemed to share his focused opinion. I stood unmoved and unconcerned. Those accompanying him shared furtive glances, trying not to smirk at my continued presence. The man of my evening’s desire continued to frown outside of my gaze, staring at nobody in particular, hoping that I’d simply go away. It didn’t take long, though, before an intrepid man of astonishing beauty leaned forward and whispered in his ear. At first, he seemed surprised to have such a specimen of muscle, a truly superior model among the fitness inclined, speaking to him so directly. "Do what?" said the man in blue, looking very confused. "He suggests that you come with me," I said blatantly, and the many heads focused on our conversation nodded in agreement. The pendant didn’t provide me with any abilities to affect the thoughts or actions of others. It only granted the ability to give them beauty, size, and strength. If he rejected my advances, it would be his loss. His friends look bemused as several other specimens of male perfection swooped in to block their negative accord. I’d developed quite a reputation and the attractive multitudes were ready and willing to attain another among their ranks. "Go with him," said some. "You won’t regret it," said others. "It’ll be amazing," said still more. The man in blue turned to look at me once more, puzzlement overwhelming his countenance. "Would you like to come with me? I don’t live far," I said, "just around the corner." "Don’t go," said one of his friends, but became quickly overruled as scores of attractive men pushed him (and me) towards the exit. Before he could resolve his surprise at having been thrust out onto the dark streets, he arrived in tow at my front door. "Nice place," he said, unsure of how he’d gotten himself into the apartment of a man about six years his senior and absolutely not his type. His utter bafflement reaffirmed that my choice was correct. "Sit down," I said. He let himself be led to my couch where he sat heartily on the plastic covered cushions. His eyes darted about, taking in his surroundings; nervous fingers fidgeted and crossed in his lap. "I’m Mitch," he said finally, apparently deciding that it would be best if I knew his name. "Hi Mitch," I said warmly, smiling down as him from my standing position. "Don’t be nervous, you’re safe. I bring a lot of guys back here and they all enjoy themselves. You met some of them on our way out of Sting." I’d said those exact lines before. This wasn’t the first, and it would not be the last time a strange man found himself unsure and anxious in my living room. "Do you want something to drink?" I said in a soft voice, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. "Uhm, no," he said, adding a quick "thank you" as an afterthought. "Well, then. Let’s get started," I said, taking off my shirt. He looked up at me with one eye arched, apparently re-thinking his situation. But before much more could be decided, I pulled off his loose fitting shoes and unbuttoned his tight fitting pants. "Tell me your desires," I said, pulling his jeans around decent sized thighs. Soft brown hairs ruffled lazily after being disturbed by the trailing waistband. My hands cupped his round calves as they slid past, pulling both legs free. "Tell you what?" he said, slightly taken aback by the unusual question. "Tell me your desires. I can help make them come true," I said, pulling the blue V-neck over his torso. His arms complied dutifully, fourteen-inch biceps rising to allow the shirt to be pulled past. I looked down at his tanned skin, taking in his small but solid pecs and visible six-pack. His size complemented his thick frame, looking nicely muscled with low body fat. "What do you want to know?" he said, continuing our conversation from moments before. "Everything," I said, leaning in to run my fingers along the soft skin from pecs to navel. "Uhm," he said, closing his eyes, "I like muscle. Big guys with big dicks." "And what else," I said, hooking two fingers under the elastic of his designer brand underwear. "Big arms," he said. "I like really big arms." I pulled, bringing his underwear up and over a cock that had just began to wake. It looked to be decent sized average, and cut. "Big arms? How big?" I said softly, trying to encourage his imagination. Sexy thoughts would help enlarge his slumbering member. "Really big," he said, getting into the mood. "Nineteen inches." "Only nineteen?" I said to him, bringing my mouth close to his hardening cock. The hot breath of my voice quickened his excitement, its head inching closer to his stomach with each heartbeat. "Ok, twenty!" he replied. I chuckled to myself at his modesty, confident in the knowledge that soon he’d be shouting an ever-expanding plethora of large and larger numbers. "And I like big dicks," he said, really getting into the discussion. "Eight inches," he spouted. His cock was almost fully hard. The pendant around my neck thumped loudly in my head, expectantly. I reached out my tongue and flicked it against the head of his dick. The soft brown hairs on his flat stomach shifted, a shiver running through him. "Oh, gods!" he bellowed. I had that effect on men. I took his cock into my mouth and began pumping gingerly in an up and down motion, flying my tongue along the back of his sensitive cock head. I watched him, taking a mental picture of his looks, trying my best to remember the fine details of the attractive yet nervous twenty-something year old man that I had brought into my apartment. Then I began. I pushed the thumping from my mind and focused it through his eager cock. He started to moan, feeling the pleasure of my hot mouth, not understanding or caring about the sudden noise in his head. His eyes remained closed, some distant muscle man flexing proudly in his thoughts as Mitch’s arms started to inflate. The satisfaction overwhelmed us both. He breathed heavily, enjoying the sensation of his dick being sucked. I reveled in the pleasure of the beat moving through my soul and into Mitch. Focusing, I willed his arms to expand. They pushed outward against the cool air of my living room, growing to seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and then twenty inches. Then I focused on his cock, pushing against the thumping in his mind, causing his decent six inches to grow. I felt it thicken and lengthen between my lips. I ran my tongue around its girth, savoring the feeling of it taking up more and more space in my anxious mouth. The separation between my mouth and his groin increased moment by moment, his length becoming more difficult to fully please. Finally, the thumping in his mind pushed back against my push. I knew that meant his penis now stood a throbbing eight inches long. My practiced mind could combat his unconscious will and force more growth upon him if I pleased. But I knew better. Once he realized the changes in his form, no strength of wills would be required. I removed his cock from my mouth, examining my work. His nicely formed member seemed more perfectly proportioned than it had before. An unconscious change of my own, to be sure. His eyes opened questioningly, likely wondering at (only instinctively) the absence of the mysterious thumping in his mind. He focused first on my beaming face, which looked up at his confusion. "Why’d you stop?" he said, and then he noticed the more perfect column of meat hovering higher up his torso than before. "Huh?" he said shocked. Careful fingers reached out to touch its new length, to feel its girth as if unsure it was real. "What happened?" he ruminated to nobody in particular. "It’s your desires," I said simply. "You got what you wanted," I indicated, nodding to his arms. His eyes widened, his fingers quickly abandoning his throbbing cock to explore the newly expanded territory of his beefy biceps. "How ...," he said, trailing off. He brought his arm into a hard flex, bringing twenty inches of solid muscle into full relief. "Your desires," I said again. "Tell me your desires." And he did. No sooner than I encouraged him did new desires begin flooding from his mouth. "I want to be hot!" he said, pretty brown eyes filled with lust. "To be buff and muscular like all the guys I’ve ever wanted! I want a huge chest, and thick inch calves, and wide shoulders!" I again engulfed his eight inch cock, taking as much into my mouth as I could. "And low body fat! Super low, like five percent," he said as an after thought. "I want to be toned and buff and beautiful, and I want every guy to want me!" And I started to make it happen. The thumping in his mind again as soon as my lips made contact with his pulsing dick. I pushed back through my soul, pushing hard against the thumping in his head, then into his calves and chest and shoulders, causing them to balloon bigger and wider, making them harder and rounder. His thighs thickened, forcing more of my kneeling weight onto his hardening body. Thick forearms pushed reflexively into the couch as I worked my tongue around his cock. Globes of glutes developed under him, shifting his body towards my face. And I pulled on his mind. Veins appeared as I dragging the fat from his body and into who knows where. The thickness of his biceps increased, padding removed to reveal nothing but masculine hardness. His pecs rounded and came into glorious relief as his ridiculously low body fat desire came to be. Faint abdominal muscles became uncovered to reveal eight perfect and cavernous ridges. "This is so hot!" he shouted, focusing on body becoming perfection. I pushed again, further filling and expanding his muscles to meet his desires. He flexed his arms and felt his shoulders. Round delts pushed against his expectant hands. His widening back pushed and stretched the plastic covering of the couch, his width increasing greatly. Pecs danced and flexed under his lustful gaze as I filling them with more size. The cleft between the two hard slabs of muscle deepened; his chest bulged outward causing taunt nipples to harden and to begin pointing downward. "Fuck!" he screamed, starting to buck his eight inches of cock into my mouth. I gagged as the nearly perfect cock head thrust against the back of my throat. But still I pushed against the thumping in his mind. My pendant glowed a bright green-blue, pulsing with each unified thump in our skulls. "Fuck!" he said again, examining the expanse that his body became. "Can you make me taller? Five foot ten!" he yelled out, still trying to push himself further down my throat. "And I want to be as hung as a porn star! Ten inches. No, twelve!" And I made it happen. Sweat poured from his brown, dripping in torrents onto the plastic covered couch. His feet expanded downward beneath my body, pushing away from the cushions that supported his increasing weight. My soul danced and sang, the thumping flowing through it. I felt the pulsing of my own cock still confined tightly in my briefs. I began to buck my hips in motion with Mitch’s own. He fucked my face with all his might, as if the force he used could somehow help him achieve his goals. His short stature stretched as his bones expanded to his wish of five foot ten. And still I pushed on the thumping in his mind. His cock shot farther into my mouth as if it unrolled from within. It expanded quickly, making it difficult to keep in my mouth. He shoved into me once more, forcing his enlarged head down my throat. I could feel it expanding in the only direction it could. I choked and sputtered but his new strength held me, his twenty-inch arms reaching around to push my head into an irrefutable embrace. But still I pushed against his mind, forcing his dick to snake bigger, more and more. My throat jaw felt strained as it grew until finally my push met a hard force, like a wall. His unconscious pushed against the strength of mine. Then, in a solid fluid motion, he removed his cock from my throat, causing it to make an audible *pop* as it exited my tight lips. He stood up, throwing me to the ground and grabbing his porn-star sized proportions. He jerked and jerked, convulsing his whole body. Sweat shot off in all directions. His jaw had squared. His features looked chiseled. His brown eyes shone with brightness. And I could only think one word about his penis: perfect. It was thick and round and proportioned like what could be found on a statue of the gods. He focused only on himself, worshipping his own body. Hard muscles flexed and danced as he strained to get himself off. Lengthened fingers flew across the full foot of his cock, as if he’d been born to have such great size. Then finally, with a roar like a thousand lions, he came! Cum spurted up and arched out of his perfect cock. It flew in every direction, up and over every surface, across the room, and above his head. He twitched and shuttered and came with all his might until finally, without another moment’s commotion, he stopped. I felt the warmth of my own cum trickle down my leg. I’d cum in all the excitement and hadn’t even noticed. That hadn’t happened in a long while. As he slumped down on the wet plastic covering my couch, I looked up at the magnificent male specimen I’d created. His requests hadn’t been as lofty as some, but his desires for beauty had come through in full force. He almost glowed with radiance as he opened his eyes. I held back a gasp as they looked down at me, taken aback by the beauty. "Wow," he said. "Yes," I replied. I cleaned him up and gave him clothes that I kept on hand. He gave me a full bodied hug. He easily lifted my superior height towards the ceiling before putting me down, regarding me with a wide, sheepish grin. "How can I ever thank you?" he asked, beaming. "Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way," I said. As I escorted him out the door, I took pause. He’d been one of the better ones. I knew he was mine forever, now. He’d always want what I could provide, like so many other men. And so, I spoke. "Mitch," I said, looking at him directly. He turned from his elated escape to regard me once more. "It’s only temporary. All this size." His face fell. It saddened me to see such beauty falter. "Do you hear that thumping? You need to push against it as best you can. It’ll be stronger than you and it will fade. Over time it will leak out of your subconscious. And when it does, you’ll lose a good amount of size. Not all, but more than you’d like. And when that happens, seek me out." He stared. "You’ll lose less each time we meet. And next time we do, you’ll know better how you can thank me then." A frown crossed his lips. I shut the door, leaving him dumbfounded on the front steps. Part 2 My eyes surveyed the dulcet hues of red and yellow spreading across the sky with the setting sun. The cool breeze blew through the open window, flowing mischievously across my nipples, making them hard. My mind wavered between its usual fantasies and the reality of my wildest dreams come true. The fantasy world of my own creation had become too much of a reality for me, now that so often the fantasy in my dreams seemed a better place. A dull sense of things crept back upon me. The ever present thumping in my mind drew me back from my wanderings, reminding me of things that had to be done. I reached up to finger the cool pendant that dangled so innocently over my chest. It seemed like a gift at first. Images of hot, muscular men flashed through my mind as they always did just before the sunset. Once, this had been the favorite part of my day; the promise of conquests to come and imaginations to explore. My gaze remained far off to the distant hills, following the winding paths that meandered away from this valley full of newly muscled men. I longed to go there, away from the valley and past the rising hills that served as parapets to ensnare me in a wondrous fantasy world come to life. I knew it could not be done. A knock at the door sealed my fate, yet again. He let himself in, following a routine we’d perfected over six years of practice. It had become a tantric dance, both our bodies involved in an automatic play of movement to where the night would inevitably lead. The door clicked closed behind him, wafts of masculine smell eddying about on the air currents in the breezy room. It continued much the same as before. The click of a bottle cap being removed for his drink. Currency rustled in a transfer from his wallet to my wicker basket. My favorite armchair creaked under his settling weight. The thumping in my mind continued rhythmically in preparation for my guest. I turned to regard the man sitting in the chair normally reserved for me, the small muscles of my back and shoulders fully visible to the landscape beyond. My eyes scanned his five foot ten frame. Once again, his beauty astonished me. A tight blue shirt rose slightly above his navel due to the tug of his outstretched and reclining arms. I marveled at the tight muscles of his lower abdomen and the stark Adonis belt. The thinning shirt outlined solid pecs and clung to nineteen-inch arms. White shorts hung limply, almost covering his thighs but revealing strong calves and long, sandaled feet. I knew he heard the dull thumping in his mind too. Mitch took my warning from so long ago quite seriously. He experienced the fading away of the masterful thumping. He watched as his body slowly changed back to what it had been. Then, before a month’s time had passed he knocked on my door as had all the men I’d changed. The pendant drew him to me more often than most. He never let the thumping fully abate before appearing, currency in hand. He needed the muscle. He desired the beauty. His mind craved the ever present thumping. There was something special about him. Something different. "Hey there," he said smiling at me from across the room. I glowered at him and his small talk. "You’re back early. It hasn’t been a month." "Yeah, well. I’ve got to keep up my look!" He flexed a beautifully proportioned arm. I’d perfected and sculpted that arm many times over. "You know there’s only so far I’m willing to go," I said to him, echoing myself of a few weeks ago. I ignored the rampant thumping in my mind. "Aww, come on! You know I’m worth it," he replied, grabbing his crotch. My fierce blue stare penetrated him, boring through his casual façade to gaze on the deeper desires within. He’d tried to push the limits of masculinity so many times. I’d given him fantasies of every sort over the years, accentuating first this muscle, then his beauty. He’d been tall and sculpted; then he’d been short and wide. All manners of musculature and size had been in his desires, and we’d tried them all together. I’d sculpted him in so many different ways that his original form mostly escaped my memory. But through it all, he kept that astonishing beauty that impressed even me. "Don’t you get tired of keeping this up?" "What are you talking about? You love the attention! And the money." He added that last part with heavy disdain. "Alright," I relented, "let’s get this over with." He stood quickly and shucked his sandals and shirt. My breath reflexively stopped every time I gazed at his magnificent torso. His perfectly round pecs transfixed my gaze. He approached and pulled my head into his chest, forcing me to lean against his weight. The thumping in my mind increased. I extended my tongue to lick the cleavage before my mouth. It tasted magnificent as it always did. His masculine musk filled and surrounded my senses. He knew that in spite of myself, I loved our interplay and so he played me like the masterful puppeteer he’d become to get what he desired most: more size. "That’s right. You know what I want," he said. "Make me huge." I complied to his desire. My tongue ran across the ridges of his eight cobblestoned abs, gingerly appreciating every knot and hard crevice. With practiced fingers, I unbuttoned his shorts to slide them down solid thighs. My cock throbbed in my own pants, my thoughts a mix of desire and fatigue. He released me from his embrace long enough to lower his underwear, revealing an ample cock -- a largely proportioned and porn star thick, ten-inch cock. He’d always asked for a big cock and I always provided. Now I benefited from my handy work, opening wide to take the semi-hard member into my mouth. I sucked liberally on the perfectly shaped head, as it pumped harder with each beat of his heart. And focusing on my expected task, I felt the thumping in his mind. It seemed loud compared to all then men I’d conditioned. It took practice for them to push hard enough against the thumping in their minds to keep it from seeping fully away. And Mitch among them all learned the best. In spite of my help, it’s how he really kept so much of his size over the last six years. Most of my creations partnered with one another and let themselves shrink together, happily and blissfully loved. But not Mitch. He chose the opposite windy path. His life, like mine, became about size and perfection. His long cock felt warm in my mouth and I savored it with my tongue. Moaning erupted from above. I looked up at Mitch’s refined proportions and chiseled features, savoring memories of him and me growing close over the years, even if only for this purpose. The thumping in my mind matched the thumping in his, a quickening pulse that filled both our thoughts. Then I pushed the thumping through my soul and into his eager body. And then it started again. He yelled out passionate desires in his lust. "I want to be bigger than ever before! Massive and huge. Tall. Towering." His hunger had become frightening. He wanted to wield power over other men. But I knew that no amount of size could provide him with the power I had. He’d still always need me. His arms raised in glorious relief, flexing and growing as I pushed new size into their already impressive proportions. They grew to twenty inches quickly, then to twenty one. And his shoulders swelled in size to match. His back spread wider, straining his flimsy blue t-shirt. It’d always been a favorite of his, but he’d forgotten to remove it so it would not be long for the world. "Mmmph," he moaned, his eyes closed, as his pecs grew heavier. I made them round and thick, perfecting them as one of my many gifts to him. They heaved higher and pushed against the shirt as he flexed. The sound of tearing fabric interrupted his heavy breathing. "Fuck yeah!" he cried. My pendant glowed its standard blue-green hue and thumped loudly in our heads, and I pushed against it with my usual vigor. His cock felt hot in my mouth. I loved having it there and slurped and bobbed contently. The tear at his neckline continued to spread with his widening back. I watched it travel south towards his nipples; my available hand reflexively grabbing to free my own confined meat. A stark ripping sound accompanied the slow progress down his torso, and it made us both squirm with pleasure. When it revealed the entirety of his cleavage, I noticed something that made me startle. Dangling between his heaving muscular pecs sat a blood-red pendant. I stopped pushing, leaving the thumping alone. His cock throbbed anxiously in my mouth while I surveyed his sweaty torso. His eight pack was perfect. Thick traps mounted visibly around his neck, even from this angle. He’d gone from fitness model to junior bodybuilder in no time at all. He wondered at the sudden delay, opening his eyes to peer down at his hard cock pulsing stagnant in my mouth. A quick scan of his expanded frame told him what caused my start, and he leered. "Do you like it?" he said. "I got it near the old forest path." He didn’t allow a response. His hand had snaked stealthily from its flexed position to a forceful hold behind my head. He held me firmly in place. I tried to vocalize around his cock, but it was simply too large to allow any oration to pass. The thumping in my mind began to grew, shifting to an alarming frenzy! My own blue-green pendant shone with an unexplainable urgency, filling me with panic and dread! I wriggled and writhed to free myself from his grip, but he held fast. His free hand closed around the amber pendant hanging around his neck and he spoke. "Do you remember all those times you stopped before giving me what I really desired? Before giving me what I truly needed? All those denials? Well this is going to change all that." He ruffled my hair with his free hand and continued. "Rumor has it that you got your pendant somewhere deep in the forest. That’s where this one comes from too. When I wear it I can hear my own dull thumping below the remnants of yours. But I can’t get it to work no matter how hard I push against it with my mind." The wide grin on his face reached a renewed apex and I felt my panic rebuild. "I discovered that it doesn’t respond to me because this one doesn’t work with a push." He looked me in the eyes and said simply, "it works with a pull." And with no more delay or explanation, I felt a tug from somewhere deep in my mind. Mitch closed his eyes in deep concentration as the rapid thumping in my mind began to collapse in upon itself. His biceps started to expand once again, dashing any hopes of estrangement from my involuntary bondage. They flexed voluntarily in a show of power, becoming disproportionately large. Thick snake-like veins snaked across the surface of his biceps with every inch of growth. A belt the size of my waist couldn’t encompass one of those monsters. Even with this new unleashing of size, his hand against my head remained constrained as if to show a mastery of strength. The tearing down his shirt resumed much faster this time with the quick expansion of his lats. He had never been so thick before, all because I enforced limits. They thickened and rippled, pushing him wider and wider, looking engorged with size, even from my vantage point. He pulled the thumping from my mind as if it were a thing to be exchanged for a fair wage from a reluctant seller. The beauty and proportion I worked so hard to create evaporated quickly under his un-tuned understanding of his growth. Abrupt changes occurred sporadically across his form. I felt his forearm bulge against my head. His left thigh crowded my face. It hardened and took up more space, pushing me to the side. Then sometime after so did his right. I watched both feet creep longer across the floor towards my knees. The Adonis belt near my nose evaporated as a muscle gut formed. It pushed into my space over his cock and into my forehead. It may not have been coordinated, but the changes to his form were awesome. I’d never before let him lose his beautiful proportion. I realized then that it was his beauty that made me putty in his hands. And now it was disappearing. He bulked and flexed and expanded outward without any regard for my desires. My desires. His pecs jutted so far forward would no longer see his neck. A bright red glow cast about the dark room from Mitch’s pendant. He brought one arm into a flex for his own approval. Even as the bicep grew impossibly larger before his eyes, my mind raced. I tried to push against his pull in a battle for the thumping but it only hastened the growth of his ballooning arm. He peeked down and smiled at my plight, realizing what I’d done. No trick of mine could prevent the pull from penetrating the depths of my mind. In a moment, my worries compounded. Mitch had begun to rise. His cock and hand dragged me up. I grabbed his ass with both hands to support myself. Its hardness protested as I attempted to dig my fingers into his flesh. They expanded beneath my fingers as if responding to my touch. I was forced to rise off the ground without any possible recourse. I dared not bite down on his hefty cock in fear that he would make it grow. If it got too big it would easily break my jaw. So I did the only thing my experience taught me how to do: I sucked on his hard cock. He moaned immediately and pulled harder to re-double his own growth. By now I’d risen to a difficult squat, a good six inches off the floor to accommodate his increasing height. His muscles glistened in the red glow. His stature resembled the professional bodybuilders I’d seen in magazines and contests, and still he grew. I sucked hard and with all my skill. He had to cum soon. Maybe that would bring him back to reality and stop his lust for more growth. His breathing increased steadily with his size. He adjusted his stance to compensate for his growing thighs and ballooning calves. I regretted their disproportionate size, eyeing calves that looked far too big but continued unabated on my quest to get him off. His pecs stuck out much too far for their width. His arms looked comically large below his shoulders. His fingers and feet grew longer. I could feel his ass becoming more and more globe-like with every passing moment. The heat from his body overshadowed the brisk breeze. Only he and I existed. His hard hold on my head forced me to work his cock in spite of all else. I forgot about my apartment, about the money left in my wicker basket, about the numbing silence that rumbled ominously in my mind. I sucked, and I sucked. My tongue danced expertly around every ridge of his dick that I’d spent six years changing and re-memorizing. Even when I felt the head of his cock working itself further into my mouth, I continued to work the shaft as best as I could. Then without warning, my head became free and with a flash of blue-green light I fell backwards onto the floor. His once beautiful proportions were gone, replaced with blatant favoritism to what I knew to be his favorite muscle groups. I gawked up at him, larger than any professional bodybuilder I’d ever seen. A bright blood-red glow still emanated from the amber pendant hanging tediously between his pecs. Both pecs were larger than I’d thought possible, pulling his shoulders forward. Large arms out shadowed thick and veiny forearms. Bulbous calves and long feet betrayed the hard, thick thighs they were meant to complement. And his height and thickness did not match. An eleven inch cock stood proudly before the most hardened muscle gut I’d ever known. He looked down at himself disapprovingly. "This is harder than I thought. You made it look easy," he jested. I scampered away in a feeble attempt to put distance between us, lest he decide to place me again on his cock to fix his own proportion. Chuckling at me he said, "don’t worry, I don’t need you anymore." And he made his cock longer. It inched itself two or three inches towards his cavernous cleavage. I watched dumbstruck. It was only then that I realized the quiet in my head. My blue-green pendant no longer glowed; it had a reddish tinge that I’d never seen before. There was no thumping in my mind as there had always been. He had stolen it all. "Wow, it’s really loud in here," he said offhandedly. "I can push," and his cock rose another inch. "And I can pull," and his muscle gut receded significantly, leaving an amazingly sculpted cobblestoned torso in its place. "Fuck! I can do whatever I want!" His head inched closer to the ceiling, making him the tallest he’d ever been. "This is awesome," Mitch said, speaking more to himself than to me. "Watch this!" he said, and without further ado maneuvered himself into a most muscular! Veins erupted everywhere. Impossibly huge, iron-hard muscle displayed themselves in full relief. His whole body screamed its power to the world! He closed his eyes. "Gods!" His balls swelled visibly. "Fuck," and then so did his cock, "yeah!" Cum erupted from his fifteen inch cock and pelted the cleavage between his mammoth pecs! Shot after shot exploded. I could see the concentration on his face as he pushed or pulled (I did not know which) the thumping in his mind. His most muscular held while he made cum in long, hard, powerful spurts. Each shot fell onto his heaving pecs and dribbled down his disproportionately lean and sculpted abdomen. He looked frightening and amazing. Cum gushed and hit with an audible splatter. Then, after ten or twelve sticky loads, he abated and opened his eyes. "This power is amazing!" he said, and again his cock swelled larger again and more cum shot from his towering member. Time past. I watched him cum on himself over and over, stop, and then start all over again. I don’t know if he did it for pleasure, for power, or for the fun of making me watch. I’d never been able to do anything like that to him before. Finally, he stopped. The amber pendant, resembling more a purple-blue-green hue, dripped with cum and burrowed between his pecs. His hard cock swayed in the cool air. He thundered to the door and stopped. "Thanks," he said, giving me a wink. He opened it and, fully naked and drenched in sticky fluid, left me forever. I simply watched him go. A cool breeze wafted across my bare skin in an attempt to remind me of the world outside. It taunted me, reminding me of all I had lost. The newly muscled men in the valley before the high hills and the winding paths beyond were all lost to me. My jaw was sore from its restricted movement of moments ago and it protested as I opened it to scream after him. But I realized I had nothing to say. Nothing could be said. Or done. A tear trickled down my cheek. I’d lost the best part of me. Thoughts of leaving this beautiful, amazing valley flew from my consciousness. Only the silence remained. I lay there for hours. I noticed nothing but the eerie lack of thumping. I cradled my pendant to give it calm. It felt dead. The next morning I awoke where I’d fallen. I hadn’t bothered to move. I felt the weight of the now purple-amber pendant against my unimpressive chest. Some time past lost in my own thoughts. Then a smile crossed my lips. I’d recalled the last things I had said to Mitch the first time we met. "It’s only temporary." I clutched my pendant close to myself and searched my mind. Somewhere in its depths, though very, very faint, I found something. I listened to myself. There it was -- only in its beginnings, but the sound of a soft, constant, and unmistakable thumping in my mind.
  25. Newmassaddict

    growth Growth Part 7

    Sorry it's taken so long for a new instalment. I hope you enjoy it. Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE 7 I had a set of keys to the gym. I had gotten them from the hot muscle head that worked the front counter. He knew he could have gotten fired for giving them to me but he would have done anything to have my attention, even for a few minutes. I had him meet me there one night and he gave me a pretty great blow job. Tyler and I practical ran through the front doors. We were both riding high from the massive doses of roids coursing through our veins coupled with our intense muscle sex a few hours before. We headed straight to the weights. I stepped behind Tyler, grabbed hold of his hoodie and with one savage tug, pulled it clean off his body. He smiled and hit a most muscular pose in the mirror. “FUCK YEAH” he bellowed “I want to make this 280lb look pathetic and small!” I stepped in front of him and started to pound my fists on his flexed pecs. The sound of the impacts echoed throughout the empty gym. “You won't even recognize yourself in a few weeks” I said. I was wearing a t-shirt that was already stretched to its limits. I started to lift it up but Tyler stopped me. “Get so pumped you tear that shirt off.” “OH YEAH” I screamed and walked towards the dumbbells. I hoisted the 75lb dumbbells off the rack and started doing curls. Instantly my massive 25” biceps swelled. Tyler counted each perfect rep. “…fourteen, fifteen, KEEP GOING, sixteen, seventeen…” he counted. At twenty reps I let the weights drop to the ground with a loud crash. I stepped over them and grabbed the 100lbs and started to curl. When the gym is busy I always get some terrified stares when I use these. I can see the looks on the other peoples faces. Their wide eyes drive me to power though a few extra reps. Nothing gets me going when the “biggest” guys look totally defeated by the insane power I possess. Tonight it was just Tyler. At ten reps my arms are on fire. Veins as thick as garden hoses cover the surface. My smooth skin is glistening with sweat. My rhythm starts to slow and Tyler stepped in front of me. “COME ON!” he screams, spraying spit on my face. I curl the weight for the eleventh time and I’m about to drop it when Tyler leans in and starts to kiss me. He grabs hold of my waist and squeezes with all his strength. “Show me your POWER” he commands and steps aside. Something snapped in my head. I wanted Tyler to see there was no limit to my strength. I let out a primal scream and started to curl again. The pain was gone. All I was feeling were my biceps growing. I watched in the mirror as my arms exploded in size. My shirt was like a second skin. I managed to reach twenty reps before dropping the weights. I raised my arms into a double biceps pose. I flexed so hard my arms trembled from the effort. spit covered the mirror as I grunted and yelled. The fabric of the shirt could not hang on any longer. Each arm tore open. I straightened and re-flexed arms. I flared my monstrous lats and heard another rip. My vein covered lats erupted from the holes. I hit a most muscular pose and the remaining fabric on the back of shirt gave away. I peeled the sweat drenched remains from my body, wiped my face and tossed it aside. I turned to face Tyler. He was smiling widely. I grabbed him and kissed him with such force he stubbled back. I turned and walked towards the 120lbs. I could hear Tyler gasp behind me. I have used these dumbbells for curls before but I’ve never been able to do more then four reps. All I wanted right now was to torture my body more then I have ever experienced. I wanted pain, I needed pain. I grabbed the huge weighs. Instantly I felt pain radiating throughout my entire body. I looked down at my blood engorged arms. Thick, pulsing veins covered every inch. My forearms along looked bigger then most people’s quads. My dick started to get hard at the gruesome sight. Through gritted teeth I mumbled “I need to grow…” Tyler stepped behind and start to scream encouragement in my ear. I closed my eyes and started to curl the weights. I managed three perfect reps before the pain became unbearable. I opened my eyes and looked at my hulking 335lb body. I looked demented. A deformed creature not from this planet. “F-F-Fuck me” I bellowed. Tyler looked shocked but didn’t hesitate to pull down my shorts. His strong hands kneed my striated glutes. He pulled down his own shorts and exposed his raging hard-on. Without wasting any time, he drove his cock into my ass and started to pound me hard. Staring at our massive bodies in the mirror I started to curl the weights again. Keeping rhythm with Tyler's powerful trusted I felt unstoppable. Adrenaline coursed though my veins. Every inch of my body screamed for me to stop but I couldn’t. I needed my arms to explode with more dense muscle then anyone had ever seen. I don’t know how many reps I managed to complete with the 120lb dumbbells before I let them fall to the ground. Tyler pushed me into the weight rack and started to pound my ass with renewed intensity. He kept muttering “sssoo fucking massive”. Thirty seconds later he pulled his cock out and spayed a humungous load all over the mirrors while I collapsed on the floor. “That was the most incredible sight I have ever seen.” Tyler said, standing over my exhausted body. “You look bigger than ever. LOOK at your arms!” I smiled and tried to flex my biceps but they barely moved. Still naked; Tyler walked to the squat bar and loaded a 45lb plate on either side. I rolled to my side and managed to get back on my feet. I hobbled to him as he curled the weight very rapidly. I stood behind Tyler and marvelled at the massiveness of his back and shoulders. He barely resembled the young stud I first met only months before. I stepped closer to the beast and ran my hands over his huge biceps as he continued to curl. I leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Out power me. Show me what you can do.” Tyler bite his lip and dropped the bar. Without a moment of rest he added another 45lb plate to either side of the squat bar and with 225lb now loaded he positioned himself between me and the rack. He let out a little grunt and hoisted the bar off the supports. He managed fourteen perfect reps before the pain was too intense. He could not curl the weight past his waist. His whole body was shaking and waves of heat was radiating off him. He stopped trying to lift the weight; letting it hang with his arms extended. Tyler lowered his head and closed his eyes. I took a step back and watched his reflection in the mirror. He stood motionless for a long time before raising his head. The look in his eyes caused a chill to run up my spine. Suddenly the heavy weight started to move. Tyler was able to curl it again but to my amazement, he didn’t stop at the top of the rep. Instead; he pressed the weight over his head. Sweat and spit flew out of his mouth as he powered to weight higher. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a savage bellow and slowly lowered the bar behind his head! I stumbled backwards and sat on a nearby bench as Tyler started to preform perfect overhead tricep extensions with 225lb. Gruesome veins erupted over the surface of his triceps and forearms as he moved the weight up and down. I watched open-mouthed as he reached eight reps before the bar came crashing down behind him. Tyler turned towards me. His bloated upper body looked torn from a bodybuilding magazine. He was breathing heavily and sweat was pouring off his body. His massive pecs twitched and flexed with each breath. He raised his enormous arms and hit a devastating double bicep pose. His cock was rock hard and dripped with cum. He couldn’t form complete words but grunted and mumbled as he flexed harder. His whole body trembled with effort. I started to stroke my own hard cock at the sight. Seeing my reaction to his muscle engorged display made Tyler smile. “You like what you see big man? You made me into this freak. I feel so fucking huge right now. Like I could pull this whole building down with my bare hands.” Tyler released his mammoth flex and walked back to the squat rack. He hoisted the huge weight and turned to face me again. He started to curl the weight again. The pain of his face was obvious but he was determined to keep lifting. His cock slapped against his wet smooth abs. I stood to face the beast as I started to cum. I sprayed a huge load all over Tyler’s massive frame. He screamed and curled the weight for the seventh rep but didn’t let the bar drop. His arms looked like they were boulders of granite. He locked eyes with my and suddenly I feel his hot cum splashing off my chest. Tyler dropped the weight, grabbed me around my waist and kissed me hard as his arms pressed into my thick muscled torso. He held me in his arms for a long time while we kissed. Finally his arms gave out and we both collapsed to the floor. I slide my cock into his striated ass and started to pound him hard. We both grunted from the force. Tyler flexed his back causing me to cum in minutes at the site. We both rolled onto the ground, breathing heavy and causing a puddle of sweat around our naked bodies. We both decided it was time to shower and go find somewhere to eat when we heard a metallic crash from the other side of the gym. We both stood up and saw a shadow move in the dark corner of the weight room. There was someone watching us.