Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'm/m'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • General
    • News
    • Problems and Suggestions
    • Introductions
    • General Discussion
  • Written Works
    • Stories
    • Role Playing
    • Continuous Stories
    • Unfinished Stories
    • Fantasies and Story Ideas
    • Chat & Role-Playing Transcripts
    • Real-Life Muscle Growth Experiences
  • MG.com's Storiversary
    • General
    • 3rd Annual Storiversary
    • Storiversary Story Archive
  • Media
    • General Images
    • Artwork & Morphs
    • Artists Showcase
    • Videos
    • Before & After Transformations
  • Community
    • Personals
    • Chat Buddies
    • Surveys & Polls
    • Advertisements
  • Bodybuilding
    • General
    • Training
    • Muscle & Mind
    • Diet & Nutrition
    • Steroids
    • Watch Me Grow
  • Off Topic
    • Main Off Topic Board
    • News & Current Events
    • Weird / Funny / Interesting
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Welcome!
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Gallery
  • DC Area Muscle's Discussion
  • Tall Muscle's Discussion & Advice
  • Furry Muscle Club's Club Chat
  • Spanish-speaking members!'s Culturistas buscando sponsor
  • Spanish-speaking members!'s Presentaciones
  • Spanish-speaking members!'s Sponsor buscando culturistas
  • Superstrength and Crushing's Your favorite Superstrength & Crushing Stories
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumbing You
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Meathead Make-Believe
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumb Stud Pictures
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Mutual Muscling
  • South East Asia Muscle Club's Muscle Tales
  • 2D Muscle Artists's Topics
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Bodybuilding Websites
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Top Tips, Articles and Guides
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Video Clips
  • Second Life's GYMS
  • Second Life's Topics
  • New York City Muscle's Member Intro
  • New York City Muscle's Personals
  • Rochester NY Area Lifters's Topics

Calendars

There are no results to display.

There are no results to display.

Blogs

There are no results to display.

There are no results to display.


Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location


What are your interests?


What are your stats?


What are you seeking?


What are your dream stats?


Favorite Stories


Favorite Bodybuilders


Got Any Fetishes?

Found 994 results

  1. Shawn1978

    m/m Eric and Seth

    Hey guys, here's the first chapter of the new story I'm writing. Since it's not a story already finished or anything, the chapters will be released as I go. Im sure the story will have it's flaws and possible mistakes in it, since it's been a while since I've written anything, since my last story, titled "My Everything" which you can find on the nifty.org website, if you'd like to read it. That one is not finished, but I hope you enjoy that one, as well. Now on with my new story! Chapter 1 Eric was sitting, at his desk, in his private dorm room, at San Diego University, browsing the internet for more information about farms, on his laptop. Eric was a very kind hearted guy, with light brown hair, and the most piercing blue eyes you ever saw. At least when he was not wearing his glasses which was not that often. Eric stood about 5'11" and at 22 years old, was generally, a very active young man. Eric was also smart, but yet very sensitive, as well. His brow was furrowed, in frustration, as he looked over, his search results on farms. He had chosen to use the subject of farms for his college essay, and so far was having trouble, finding the right information he needed to begin writing his Essay. As he was wondering what to do next, he heard a knock on his dorm room door. He walked over to it, and opened it, revealing a very pretty girl, with brunette hair, on the other side of it. "Hi, Amy!" Eric said, warmly, smiling at her. Amy smiled back at him. "Hey, Eric!"Amy replied back, cheerfully. "Are you busy right now?" Eric ran his hand through his light brown hair, obviously frustrated, which Amy could clearly see. "Is something wrong?" She asked him, showing concern. Eric nodded. *I'm having trouble starting my college essay, for Professor Mastrian's class, and I could use my best friend's advice." Amy smiled, with a nod of her head. "I'd be happy to help you, any way I can, Eric." "Come in." Eric say, opening the door further and stepping aside. Amy walked in and turned back to face, Eric, just as he shut the door to his room. "What can I help you with?" Amy asked. Eric walked over and sat back down at his computer. Amy grabbed a nearby chair and sat beside him. "I chose to write about farms for my college essay, and I'm having so much trouble finding information on what's it like to run a farm. I mean, I see all the equipment, that you use for farming, like the tractors, and work supplies, and stuff like that, but I have no idea how to use that to get my essay even started. Amy nodded, understanding his frustration. She reached over and caressed his arm, affectionately. "I understand your frustration, Sweetie." She said, softly. "But if you want to know more about what's it like to run a farm, the only thing you can do is work on one. Get some hands-on experience. And as you experience it, firsthand, you can write about it. Keep a daily journal of your experiences, good and bad, that way it'll be easier to remember when you go to complete your essay. Eric nodded his head. What Amy was suggesting made a lot of sense. Which is why he truly appreciated having her for a best friend. He smiled at her, as he brought his hand behind her head and kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you, Amy." Eric said, warmly. "I'm glad I can count on you." Amy smiled. "What are best friends for?" She asked him, then added. "That's my job." Eric laughed, showing off his cute smile and beautiful white teeth. "Yeah, well, unfortunately, you're not being paid for it." Eric joked, earning him a slap on the knee, from Amy, which made him laugh harder. "You know money can't buy friendship!"Amy exclaimed, feigning shock, but grinning widely. "Besides our friendship is priceless!" " I know, I know!" Eric said, leaning towards her, and hugging her. "I wouldn't have it any other way." "Thanks."Amy said, as she pulled back from their hug. "Neither would I." Eric knew how lucky he was to have a friend like Amy. He had known her ever since freshmen year of high school. Since then, they'd become fast friends. Amy had been the first person Eric had told that he was gay and she had hugged him and told him that it didn't matter to her and that she was still his friend. Eric then remembered something. "Amy? Why did you come by, other than to help me with my essay?" Eric asked her. "Oh, right!" Amy exclaimed, remembering. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to join me for an afternoon workout. Yoga and cardio?" Eric beamed. If there's one thing he loved, it was working out. Especially when he was with Amy. "I would love that, right now." Eric said. "That'll take my mind off of this essay for a while." "Cool!" Amy said, standing up. "I'm going back to my room to pack my gym bag. You wanna meet outside the campus in 30 minutes?" "Sounds like a plan! Eric said. "In the meantime, I'm going to run out and pick up a newspaper from one of the stores, near the campus. "Alright then." Amy said, giving him another hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I will meet you, at the gym." Amy then headed for the door and left Eric's room, closing the door behind her. Eric took that moment to shut down his laptop, and close it. Then he closed his notebook and put it in his desk drawer. He then proceeded to go to his closet to pick out his workout clothes, as well as a fresh change of clothes. As he looked through his closet, he decided on a Nike tank top and a pair of Nike athletic work out shorts. He took them off the clothes bar and set them down, on the bed. Next, he picked out a solid light blue v-neck T-shirt and a pair of Levi jeans, that fit his toned body very nicely. He returned to his bed and dropped his clothes on it. He turned back to the closet and got out his gym bag and checked it to see if he had his spare deodorant in it, which he did, so he brought the bag back to the bed, and proceeded to pack his things in the bag. He ran to the bathroom to grab a fresh towel to pack in the gym bag. After finishing up, he grabbed his car keys and exited his dorm room, locking the door, behind him. He walked through the busy college halls, observing the students, walking around, some heading to their classes. Others were standing by the walls, talking amongst each other. As he was nearing the door, Eric heard a voice shout out. "Yo, Eric!" Eric turned towards the owner of that voice and saw his friend, Will, running towards him, from behind him. "Hey, Will." Eric said, "Nice to see you, man! "You too." He said. "You want to hang out with me and my girl tonight? We're gonna have pizza and rent some movies to watch on DVD." Eric wouldn't have minded the idea, except that he'd already had plans to stay in his dorm tonight and work on his essay. "Sorry, Will, I can't tonight." Eric told him, politely. "I have to work on my essay for Professor Mastrian's class." How about a raincheck?* "Sure." Will said, understanding, but still looking slightly disappointed. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" "To the gym." Eric said. "I'm meeting Amy there for a workout, but first I have to go pick up a local newspaper to browse through later." "Oh, Ok." Will replied. "I've got to get to my psychology class now, anyway. Call me, later, alright? "Absolutely." Eric nodded. "See you later, man." Will left to head to his class, and Eric walked over to his red Nissan Altima and got into it. He started the car and headed down the street to the local supermarket to pick up the newspaper. He pulled into the parking lot and walked into his local Whole Foods Market, to get the newspaper. He grabbed the newspaper off of the news stand shelf and then decided that maybe he'd better pick up something for both he and Amy to snack on, after their workouts. He headed down towards the snacks aisle to see what they had there. Eric browsed the shelves and his face lit up when he saw some "Oats and Peanut Butter" squares and decided on those. As Eric turned to walk to the check out counter, he accidentally bumped into someone, who was also heading down the snacks aisle, for something, and his snacks and the newspaper fell of his hands, "Whoa!" Eric heard a man's voice say, as they collided. "Shit!" Eric cursed, as he bent down to pick up his things, not even looking at the man. "I'm such a klutz! I'm so sorry, sir!" "No, I'm sorry, man!" Eric heard the man, reply. "It was my fault, I shouldn't have been walking down the aisle as fast as I was." Eric was just about finished picking up all his stuff, just as the man finished saying that, but as he reached out to pick up the last box of snacks, his hand came in contact with the other man's, hand, since he had knelt down to help Eric pick everything up. It was then that Eric looked up at the man and found himself staring into the most beautiful ocean blue eyes he had ever seen! The man in front of him, was gorgeous! Not only did he have beautiful eyes, but he also had beautiful golden blond hair and a very chiseled face and jawline. "Are you ok, man?" Eric heard the man, ask. Eric snapped out of his trance and started to get up. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Eric stammered. "Thanks." As Eric stood up, so did the handsome gentleman. Eric's breath also caught in his throat when he noticed something else, about the man. Eric saw that the man was wearing a sleeveless red and black paid shirt with some light blue jeans. But what amazed Eric even more was how muscular the man was! Eric could see how big his pecs were, since the shirt was unbuttoned down to his sternum. Eric could see a slight hint of abs, and knew without a doubt, this man definitely had a ripped six pack under that shirt. And the man's legs, as Eric observed, were massive. Just one of the man's legs was as big as Eric's torso. Eric could see the handsome man's quads, filling out his Levis to form. "Wow." Eric said "You're a big guy!" The man laughed. "Yeah, I get told that, a lot." He said. "I can understand why." Eric said. "You're built like a bodybuilder." "Actually, I used to compete,but I don't anymore." The man said. "How come?" Eric asked, frowning, in confusion. "Too expensive." The man replied. "Having to go through all you have to, just to win a bodybuilding statuette, is just not worth it to me, anymore." "I understand." Eric said. Then he realized that he hadn't introduced himself to the guy. "By the way, I'm Eric." Eric said, extending his hand out to the man. I'm Seth." The handsome man said, as he grasped Eric's hand. "It's nice to meet you." Eric and Seth shook hands, and Eric felt like Seth's hand lingered on his, longer than usual. Or was that just him? "Well, I'd better be getting going." Eric said. "I have to get to the gym and get my workout in, before I head back to campus to work on my essay." "Ok." Seth replied. "It was nice meeting you, man." "You too." Eric said, feeling disappointed that he had to cut their conversation short. But he knew that Amy was waiting for him, at the gym. "Take care." Seth said, lightly slapping Eric's shoulder and strutted off towards the meat department. Eric couldn't help himself, at that moment. He turned around to look at Seth again as he was walking away and saw just how tight those jeans really were on him. His big muscular ass, hamstrings and calves filled them out nicely. "Damn." Eric said, to himself. "He is literally the hottest fucking stud I have ever seen!" He turned and started walking towards the checkout counter. "Too bad I'm never going to see him, again." Eric said, to himself, sadly. Little did Eric realize how wrong he would be. Well, that's all for this chapter. Let me know what you think. All feedback is welcome, including criticism. I will use all feedback, in order to try to improve, my writing, as the story progresses. Thanks for reading!
  2. tereshky

    m/m Jack the Giver

    “I can give you anything you wish for. Just don’t blame me if your wish comes true.” This is a series about a mystical man who shows up to people in despair to offer them what they’ve always wanted. But does he really help them? That’s for you to decide. So be careful what you wish for. You might get more than you wanted.
  3. I know it's been a long time and frankly, I haven't been inspired to write very much. However, I recently received a message from someone on this site with a idea for a new story. As we chatted, I started to get an idea. Once I started writing, I realized the potential these ideas had. All that being said, I think this might be my best story yet but I'll let you be the judge. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Introducing Jacob... High School Chapter 1 It was the first day of senior year and Jacob wasn’t looking forward to it. It would be his first day at a new school for the third time in five years. Thanks to his dad getting yet another new job, he was starting all over once again. Not that Jacob really minded. He didn’t have many friends from his old schools to miss and wasn’t really looking to make new ones either. He had only one real priority, becoming as big as humanly possible. Jacob was undeniably the biggest 18 year old on the planet and if he wasn’t, he was certainly well on his way to becoming the biggest. Ever since he was elementary school, Jacob was obsessed with building muscle. It immediately became an obsession and consumed most of his time. When he wasn’t lifting huge weights, he was devouring insane quantities of food. His parents happily supported his choice because it made their many moves easier, as long as they moved his weights, Jacob never complained. By the time he started junior high, Jacob could lift weights only veteran bodybuilders dreamed they could. In fact, to compare Jacob to a bodybuilder would be inaccurate, he desired to become something beyond what the most decorated professionals could ever dream of obtaining. He would scour the internet trying to find someone that had achieved the level of mass he was determined to obtain. Even freaks like Craig Goliath and Big Ramy were too small and weak to Jacob. He often turned to skillfully crafted morphs and artwork of fictional muscular giants just to get additional motivation. Jacob woke up at 5 a.m. this morning so he could workout for two hours before school. He was dreading having to be stuck in class instead of spending the entire day working out. In the month since they had moved in, Jacob had done little else but lift. Aside from the odd trip to the grocery store, he hadn’t spent any time exploring his new town. Stepping out of the shower, Jacob couldn’t help but admire his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He knew he would be the biggest kid at school but he didn’t care, to him, he was still too small. He dropped his towel and slowly raised his arms into a magnificent double bicep pose. He let out a low moan as he reached the full flex. He marvelled at his swollen biceps. He measured them after his gruelling workout at 22”. While he cursed himself about the number not being 24” earlier, he could not deny at this moment, his arms looked downright freaky attached to his 18 year old face. After a minute holding the pose, his arms were shaking but as more thick veins appear on his paper-thin skin, he couldn’t stop flexing. In his mind, he envisioned his arms surpassing his 28” waist. It was only moments later that he released the pose to grab hold of his raging cock. His intense muscle-lust coupled with his teenage sex drive resulted in this scene quite often. As Jacob stoked his cock, he caressed his bloated pecs. He kneaded the thick slabs of beef as the individual muscle fibres twitched and flexed. At 56”, his massive pecs cast a long shadow over his chiselled ads. With one final flex of his entire upper body, Jacob unleashed a thick stream of cum all over the mirror. “Fuck, this school won’t believe their eyes” he said as he cleaned off some stray cum from his pecs and abs. Jacob gabbed a clean tank top and audibly struggled to get it over his wide shoulders and lats. Even thought he tank was only a couple of weeks old, it already looked to be stretched to its limits. Next, he grabbed a very short pair of shorts that looked more like boxer briefs than outer wear. Jacob may not have cared wheat people thought of his body, but he certainly didn’t mind showing it off. After fixing his hair in the mirror, Jacob hit a mild most muscular pose. He heard a seam pop on his tank top and decided it was best to get going before he had to find something else to wear. During his 10 minute walk to school, Jacob consumed two huge protein shakes and ate five protein bars. Just before he reached the front door, he looked down at his exposed quads and calves. He was immediately transfixed by the incredible pump his calves had gotten from the walk. He stopped to flex his left calf and couldn’t help moan as it swelled to a mind-boggling 21”. Thick rope-like veins covered every inch. He couldn’t help but run is hand over his outrageously massive quad, stopping to squeeze the bloated tear-drop muscle that literally hung over his tiny kneecap. “Ok, enough of that. Time to prepare for the main event.” He said to himself as he opened the school main door and stepped inside. “Holy Shit!” “Oh my god!” “Look at that FREAK!” “Gross, that’s so DISGUSTING” Just a few of the comments Jacob heard before he was 10 feet into the building. One guy walked into an open locker door and hit his head pretty hard. With a confident smirk on his face, Jacob walked down the hall searching for his homeroom class. These reactions were nothing new to Jacob. In fact, he had learned to feed off them years ago. Next to using his insane strength and pumping his muscles well beyond their limits, seeing people freak out over his size was Jacob’s favourite thing. The first time he was called a freak really upset him. But as it continued to happen and with increased frequency the more he grew, Jacob realized that it meant he was starting to achieve his dream of becoming a true mass monster. The more disgusted people became the more motivated and quite frankly, aroused he became. Soon, Jacob wasn’t satisfied unless people became physically sick at the site of him. He loved cumming while replaying people’s over-the-top comments in his head. He also fantasied about getting those same reactions in the presence of the biggest professional bodybuilders. Imagining Big Ramy puking just at the sight of his unflexed body caused Jacob to cum the most. By the time he found his classroom, news of the freaky huge new kid had spread to all corners of the school. As he stepped through the door, all talking stopped. Jacob surveyed the room of his slack-jawed school mates as he slowing made his way to the back of the room. Everyone stared in awe but no one dared to make a sound. The teacher looked confused when he walked in to a full room of silent teenagers. It wasn’t until he looked to the back of the class that he figured out why. “Oh my! You must be Jacob!” He stammered. “They said you were big but I didn’t expect so much-“ “Huge, freaky muscle?” Jacob interrupted. The teacher’s mouth remained open, but words stopped coming out. A minute later, he had regained enough composure to instruct the class to find their seats. After the students were seated, the teacher looked to the back of the room to see Jacob still standing. “Um-please find a seat.” He said to Jacob. “Sorry Teach but I don’t think these desks are made for someone like me.” “Please sit.” The teacher said, trying to sound authoritative but it came out sounding scared and timid. Jacob shook his head and tried to sit at the nearest desk. The entire class turned their heads and watched as the massive boy struggled to get seated. Loud creaks filled the room as Jacob’s massive body wedged itself into the seat. The desks were the table-top seat combos that offered very little in the way of adjustment. Jacob could barely fit his meaty quads in the gap between the seat and the desk. He tried for close to 30 seconds before becoming frustrated. Suddenly his fist slammed down on the top of the desk, cracking it instantly. Jacob then gripped the wooden desk and plastic seat and started to pull. His already bloated body exploded in size. There were audible gasps from the class. Jacob adjusted his grip and let out a low roar and pulled harder. With seemly little effort, the plastic seat was torn off the metal frame of the desk. Jacob tossed the seat and repositioned his hand on the metal frame. There was a load groan of screeching metal and the frame started to bend. Jacob’s arms visibly inflated and each individual muscle fibre leap into action. Jacob’s ridiculously wide back appeared to double in size as he continued to bend the metal frame like it was wet pasta. With one final grunt and tug, Jacob stood straight up and the desk disintegrated around him. He stepped out of the pile of desk parts and placed his hands on his hips. “Told you the desk wasn’t made for this body.” He said and slowly flexed into a front lat spread. Slowly his lats expanded until they jutted three feet from his sides. They only stopped swelling when they made contact with his equally massive arms and forearms. Next, his pecs rose upward and outward. Deep striations and countless veins snaked across they surface. Even under the tight tank top fabric, veins could been seen pulsing. Finally, Jacob’s traps rose up either side of his neck as his quads and calves flexed so huge, there was barely any separation between them. At full flex, Jacob could hear loud screams and gags from the students in the room. Many had to look away in horror while others were clearly mortified at the sight they could not stop watching. Jacob turned to look a the teacher who was visible shaking and leaning against his desk to stop himself from collapsing on the floor. “Oh my god! Please stop!” the teacher muttered. “Sorry teach, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say come up the front of the class and show everyone just how insanely massive I am?” Jacob replied and slowly made his way towards the front of the class. It’s fair to say, Jacob always moved slowly, due mainly by the size of his quads. To even call how he moved walking was inaccurate; Jacob waddled. Arriving at the front of the class, Jacob turned to face the class. He pointed to a skinny kid sitting in the first row and motioned for him to approach. Jacob raised his arms and leaned forward. “Strip off this tank top. It’s pretty new and the only shirt I have. I want to try to make it last the whole day.” The poor kid was shaking like a leaf. “Come on dude. My lats are WAY too big for me to get this off myself. Don’t worry, I won’t bite; unless I get hungry.” Jacob said with a chuckle. Slowly the kid started to peel the skin tight tank top up Jacob’s back. When it was halfway up Jacob was growing impatient. “SOMEONE HELP HIM!” he yelled. Another petrified student joined the first kid and within seconds the tank top was pulled over Jacob’s head. Once free, he slowly stood back up and the class was confronted by his exposed upper body and a new wave to terrified screams filled the room. “This is what a 267lb 18 year old looks like. I’m only 5’8” but getting pretty close to being just as wide as that.” Jacob said and started to hit flawless poses each one accompanied by grunts, moans and exaggerated gasps. “No 18 year old has 22” arms, 18” forearms, 56” pecs and a tiny 28” waist. Not to mention some of the biggest quads on the planet. Check out these 32” quads and 21” calves.” “So Gross!” Someone yelled out. “Gross? You think all this muscle is gross. You know what I think it is? SMALL. I’m plan to doubling this size in a couple of years!” Jacob said. He was breathing hard from hitting the different poses but saved the best for last. He extended his pumped left leg and leaned closer to the class. He slowly bent his arms and started to hit a most muscular pose. His already blood-filled body exploded in every direction. Jacob showed incredible muscle control and he willed each muscle group to flex and expand. His arms slammed into his flexed pecs as his shoulders solidified into pumpkin-sized striated bolders. His vein-covered traps rose to graze his ears as his neck thickened to become wider than his head. He tightened his already rock-hard abs so each developed muscle resembled the density of bricks. His shorts could not contain the monstrous beef of his quads and rose up so high it looked like a posing suit. Even with his legs spread apart, Jacobs calves looked like they were about to touch each other. At full flex, Jacob’s entire body was shaking. His skin now covered in the light layer of sweat which made his outrageous vascular look even more extreme. He let out a glass-shaking roar and he somehow continued to flex. Through gritted teeth he screamed “I’m not stopping until someone either pukes or passes out.” Most of the kids were screaming and covering their eyes. A few looked like they were ready to faint and more than one of the boys held their hands over their obvious erections. Still not seeing what he desired most, Jacob let out another scream as his flexed muscles were starting to cause him pain. A pain that pushed him to flex even harder. He slowly turned to face the teacher, who was cowering behind his desk. With one laboured step Jacob moved closer. He could see the terror in the teacher’s face. “DO IT!” He commanded and within seconds, the teacher bent over and puked all over the top of his desk. He stood up and stumbled back, slamming into the chalkboard before collapsing on the floor. As Jacob relaxed his pose he smiled as he realized the teacher had a large wet stain on the front of his pants. His recently spent erection was clearly still rock-hard. Jacob tuned to face the class once more. He picked his tank top off a nearby desk and waddled towards the back of the class. “Is homeroom over yet?”
  4. Pardon the tags... what I've written so far is mostly set up at the moment. I'd like to get some constructive feedback before I continue. Please refrain from calling out my punctuation mistakes. Otherwise let me know if I should continue. I understand that so far this plot has been done like a million different times...but honestly nowadays what plot hasn't? Hopefully you can find something unique to my story. Please let me know what you think. Also apologies for the chapters being so short...it looks longer on Microsoft. Chapter 1 I pulled into my driveway and pushed the clicker on my garage opener. As the door slowly slid open I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Suddenly a rough day at work didn’t seem so terrible. My boyfriend of eight years was finally home after a two month work assignment back east. After shutting down the car and grabbing my gym bag I opened the door to my house… and the lights were off. Of course. I could hear the sounds of battle coming from upstairs. I don’t know why I expected him to be waiting for me by the door when I got home… he’s an avid player of this sword and magic computer game he plays with his friends, and the game released an expansion three days before he got home. Of course he didn’t have his gaming computer with him so he had to wait… which I know drove him nuts. I set my bag down by the washing machine and trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. I guided myself by the light blue light coming from my partner’s computer screen in the bedroom. I entered the room quietly. His back was to me and he had his headset on. He was frantically pushing buttons and shouting commands into his mic. “Stack! Stack! Over here…. Ok fast rez this pug over here… never mind we’ll get him later. Drop your A O E and push!” I still can’t translate all his gamer jargon. I waited a couple minutes while he finished his fight. Before he could find a new bad guy to go destroy I turned the lights on. Startled, he quickly turned to face me. His face lit up. Then he turned back to his screen. “Sorry guys, I have to go, Frizzle can you command? Thanks, see ya.” He shut down his game, tossed his headset down, and then proceeded to jump right into my arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much… my family is terrible!” he exclaimed between kisses. “I missed you too babe,” I replied. “Looks like you managed to find some shopping at least.” He pulled back from our embrace and gave me his goofy smile. God I loved him so much. I set him down so he could parade what he got. “Yeah… so you won’t believe this,” he said excitedly. “I went to this specialty big and tall store and found these!” He pointed to his feet. He was wearing an enormous pair of sneakers. They were at least a few sizes larger than my own size 15 shoes. “check ‘em out… size 20! I never thought I’d find a store that carried them!” I laughed. “You could always try Amazon you know.” Still smiling, he quickly shot me that not-amused look that I knew all too well. “You can’t see them in real life on Amazon before you buy them,” he said pointedly. “You know I like to shop for shoes.” Still laughing I shot back “yeah, well you have no problem special ordering other clothes online.” He reached up and lightly tapped me on the chest. “That’s different… Speaking of which, I got a package today that had this in it,” he said, pointing to the oversized muscle-tank he looked like he was practically drowning in. “Oh, and these.” He lifted up his shirt revealing a pair of workout shorts that looked like pants on him, and untied the waist. The large shorts fell to the floor revealing a jockstrap with a gigantic pouch. The straps hung loosely around his legs and the waist was tied to hold it on his body. He was excited, in more than one way, but of course his thin 5.5 inch cock didn’t fill the giant pouch he had literally tied around his waist. He looked back up at me grinning ear to ear. At that moment he reminded me of a puppy that knew he had done well and was waiting for a treat. “Damn dude!” I told him, playing to his fantasy. “You’re gonna be huge when you grow into those!” “Damn right!” he shot back, smiling. I knew full well there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever fit those clothes. I’ve heard of people gaining an extra inch or two of height in their early to mid-twenties… but at 30 years old, even if by some miracle he had a growth spurt, there was no way my 5’4”, 130 lb stud with a size 8 shoe would fill this outfit out. Still, I entertained his fantasy because I love him. As long as I’ve known him he’s been fascinated with everything big. Big height, big muscle, big cock. That’s his motto. That’s why he fell for me so quickly. At 6’5” I’m a tall drink of water, and I’m pretty proud of my bodybuilder physique (it’s so much tougher for us tall guys). With those two traits when he first saw me he went weak in the knees... but when I got him home and he got his eyes on my thick 8.5” piece of meat deal was done. He decided right then and there he was gonna keep me. I must have zoned out just thinking about how I met my man, and how much I loved him and all his quirks all these years later. Because next thing I knew he was waving at me: “Hey…hey… earth to Aaron. Are you going to stand there and stare at me all evening? I love you, but I haven’t had sex in two months. I need your ass.” As was typical when he was wearing his bigger clothes he was the top that night. Chapter 2 He really was a horny little bastard. He shot 4 loads before pulling out, and then still got a fifth off all over my face before collapsing next to me. He leaned over to the nightstand and handed me a rag. “That’s gonna feel so much better when I’m bigger,” he said nonchalantly--still coming down off his orgasm. “I’m gonna open you up like you do me…and it’s going to be awesome when I go to the gym. I’ll walk around the locker room naked with my dick swinging back and forth and everyone will want it. I’ll be buff with pecs like yours and people will ask to feel my arms too. It’ll be awesome to have you be the little spoon for once.” “I can be your little spoon now,” I reassured him. He laughed. “Haha…yeah…but no. I mean I like holding you… but I can’t sleep like that, you’re too wide I can’t reach all the way around you like I’d like to yet. I want to be able to hold you like you hold me.” “But when you’re big, how am I going to keep the other guys off you? Who’s to say that you won’t find a guy that likes your size as much as you like mine? You might not want to keep me then” I teased. He sat up and looked me in the eye: “Aaron, you’re like a shoe that fits me perfectly… I’ll never outgrow you.” He stated seriously. “A shoe? Seriously?” I scolded playfully. “Patrick… I love you but you’re a dork.” I rolled out of bed. “All right big guy, let’s shower and get to bed… you’ve got to be jetlagged.” Chapter 3 The next few weeks went by fairly routinely. That is until one Saturday morning while I was cooking breakfast Patrick shouted down from the bedroom, “Aaron, Aaron come quick!” I hurried up the stairs to see what was the matter. Patrick was absent mindedly stroking his cock with one hand while scrolling down a browser with the other. “What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve got to read this” was his reply. I began scanning the screen. It was the results of a two year research study investigating a compound that was supposed to interact with the endocrine system, inducing height and muscular changes. “This is it… I’m finally going to get big!” Patrick exclaimed. “Wait…what?” I stuttered, trying to run through the page before he got too far ahead of me. “I finally found what I need to get big like you! I told you! I told you I’m gonna get huge like you!” I finished reading the synopsis. “Hold on a sec, guy… this says the study was discontinued early because the compound didn’t have an effect on enough participants. It’s been 3 years. Even then the best case scenario is an “increase of 1-3 inches in height as well as increased musculature, penis size and rigidity”. I quoted. “Honey, you can’t get more rigid… and is 1-3 inches worth any risk?” “Like you said, it’s been 3 years, I’m sure they’ve done more research,” he countered quickly, “and yes…1-3” would be worth it.” He gazed into my eyes with such sincerity and need that I quickly gave in. “If you think it’s what you need to do I’m with you 110%... remember though its 4 injections over the course of a year, so it’s not like you can change your mind.” I said. “I’ll think about it… but I won’t change my mind. I promise.” Chapter 4 Over the next several days I became concerned. Each night when I got home from work Patrick would be upstairs on his computer. Though instead of the usual video game chatter. I’d arrive to silence. I’d wander upstairs, and Patrick would be sprawled out by his desk, head phones in, scrawling through page after page of research. He sit there in his size 20 sneakers and oversized jock, every once in a while moving enough to make a bookmark, and every few hours I’d make him stop and walk downstairs to either eat or get some water. Or anything really…just something to let me know he was still alive. One night I was sitting downstairs watching the latest episode of Gotham when he came downstairs and sat beside me. He snuggled up next to me and after a few minutes simply said “I’m ready.” Patrick managed to book an initial intake appointment a few weeks later. He was nervous, and asked that I go with him. We drove from the suburbs to the address provided, which turned out to be an historic tire warehouse building that had been converted into a laboratory. The outside didn’t look too impressive. Just faded signs painted on the walls probably 80 years ago, a Starbucks on the ground floor, and two purposefully rusty-looking doors with a buzzer and keypad to the right of them. I pressed the buzzer and a voice quickly answered, asking Patrick to confirm his appointment. He did and the door clicked allowing us entry. The interior of the building was markedly different from the outside. It was very brightly lit. Very sterile looking. At the center of the room was a large white circular desk. A young twinkish man who looked like he was maybe a freshman in college sat at the desk. As we approached the desk he checked us both out. Very obviously. He smirked at Patrick, then glanced me over and then fumbled with some paperwork on his desk as we got near. “Hello,” he said. “You must be Patrick. Thank you for coming. Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, and I don’t see another appointment at this time.” “Oh no, I’m just here with him,” I replied. The twink gave us a knowing look. “Oh ok, that’s cool. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few chairs and some reading material. Do you need anything to drink?” “Not at the moment. Thank you,” I responded. Patrick finished his questionnaire and we sat down. A few minutes later I saw a man with a clipboard walk down the stairs. He was about 6’2”, with a nice athletic build and short, jet black hair. He was wearing a blue button down shirt and black denim jeans. “Howdy… Patrick?” he asked. Patrick looked up from the fitness magazine he had started to read. Introductions were made and the doctor invited us upstairs. Chapter 5 Dr. Stevens’s office was fairly nondescript. It consisted of a large oak desk, a couple chairs, a computer, a lamp, and a large bookcase full of books and knickknacks. In the center of the bookcase was an urn, next to the urn sat a tiny little barbell and a photo of a child in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell you the kid’s age. His head too large for his body, which seemed to have little to no musculature at all. He was short, though his hands looked large. Despite all this I couldn’t help but be entertained by the kid’s beaming smile. Whoever was taking the photo obviously meant the world to this young man and you couldn’t look at this photo without seeing it in his expression. “mgm-hmm,” Dr. Stevens coughed. We all took a seat around the desk. “My secretary says you’re quite persistant, Mr.” “Patrick,” my boyfriend chimed in, “and this is my partner Aaron.” “Nice to meet you both, so what can I help you with.” Patrick looked at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod, and he began grinning ear to ear and scooted to the edge of his seat. This seemed to make the doctor uncomfortable for a moment as he shifted in his chair and shot a glance to the urn on his bookshelf. “Sir, three years ago you lead a study on the effects of a certain compound on the endocrine system,” Patrick started. “That study ended early,” the doctor interrupted. “The compound was deemed ineffective on human systems.” Patrick’s grin faded. “Yes, but it wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what?” The doctor was obviously agitated. “If you’d done your research you would have realized that the compound you speak of was only effective in less than 1% of the sample. Even then the effects were insufficient for continued funding. I’m a busy man, do you have a reason for hounding my assistant for days to get an appointment or did you just want me to read the conclusion of my paper for you?” Feeling intimidated, Patrick slouched back into his chair momentarily before standing up and walking towards the door. He was doing his best to fight back tears. I stood to join him, my heart felt heavy looking at my lover’s dejected demeanor. I could see his hope…his dream… falling to pieces in front of me. “It wasn’t a failure,” I said softly while looking straight at Patrick. “You had results. Sure, they weren’t as much as hoped for… but they were results. My partner…my boyfriend…has taken time off work, and has driven over 50 miles for an hour of your time. Sure, it’s a long shot. But from where he’s standing it’s his best shot of attaining the one thing he’s wanted for as long as he could breathe. The entire reason we’re here-- the reason he’s blown up your secretary’s phone and email. Is because he wants… he needs… to explore this opportunity.” Patrick wiped a tear from his cheek, his eyes lit up. He had his fire back. “Sir,” he stated. “Aaron’s right. The study wasn’t a failure. Please give me a chance. Even if it’s a small chance” He looked the doctor squarely in the eye. He spoke with sincerity. With need. “Someday I’m going to be big… like you and Aaron. I know it. I just need help getting there. Please help me.” Dr. Stevens didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared at Patrick as though he’d seen a ghost. Finally he began fiddling with a pen. Squeezing it until his knuckles turned white then releasing it, over and over. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Standing in front of the urn with his back to us he finally spoke: “You don’t just stop and start studies willy-nilly. That’s not how professional research works,” he began. “But?” Patrick said quietly. “But,” the doctor turned, “my research has never really stopped to be honest. No, I don’t have any current “subjects” or “trials”, but the scientist in me still looks for the answers I know are out there. I didn’t have enough subjects to truly test out the compound I developed, and funding dried up. My old company blamed faulty research, but it wasn’t. The formula is just very specific. It only affects a fraction of a fraction of the human population—and I have developed a hypothesis that that’s because it affects a specific hormonal genetic marker that only one in several million people have. I don’t have the resources I’d need to prove or disprove that any longer.” “What happens if you get the injection and you don’t have the marker,” I asked. “Nothing,” the doctor sighed. “If it doesn’t work, you may as well have been injected with saline.” “Do… do you still have access to your old formula?” Patrick asked carefully. The doctor looked at him skeptically. “I do.” “Then may I try it?” He continued quickly, “If it doesn’t work, we’ve lost nothing. If it does, we have everything to gain. I’ll sign whatever legal papers I need to absolve you of any liability. I’ll pay you. Please. What can I offer to get your help? I'll do anything.” The pleading look in his eyes spoke louder than words. The doctor sat back down and put his head between his hands. After a few moments he looked up. “I may very well lose my license over this, but I’ll do it. You remind me so much of my brother I’d be ashamed if I said no.” Patrick was so excited his legs gave out. As he sunk to his knees tears streamed down his face. I hurried over to hold him. I’d never seen him so excited. He was shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god,” he kept repeated. “It’s gonna happen! It’s finally gonna happen!” Dr. Stevens took some Kleenex out of his desk drawer. He then picked up the phone and told his assistant to clear his schedule for the evening. He took a couple and handed them to us. He gave us a few minutes for Patrick to collect himself before speaking again. “Ada…I mean Patrick. Now since I’ve agreed to assist you and provide you with the compound, we need to discuss terms. We are going to approach this scientifically. Before we administer the first injection, I need to have you sign some disclosure and consent forms. Also, I want to run a full blood work up on you. I’m certain you won’t be allergic to the formula, I’d just like to have a baseline for your hormone levels. Also, I’m going to need to run a complete physical—including height, weight, musculature, and sexual function. Once that’s complete I can administer the injection. If you react, you should begin to notice some changes within the next three to four days. I ask that you email me if you feel any changes. In the meantime, I will provide you with a diet and exercise plan that you must follow daily. We will schedule a follow up appointment one week from today. If you’re not reacting to the formula no need to come in. If you do have a reaction we will continue to the next phase. Keep in mind that once you receive the injection it’s irreversible.” Patrick looked at me once again for approval. I nodded. “I understand,” Patrick said. “How much do I owe you?” Dr. Stephens smiled. “We’re going to do this right. For this first visit there will be no payment. If you react to the formula, each week I will provide to you a stipend to cover the full cost of anything study related.” “I thought you didn’t have funding.” I said, stunned by his generous offer. “The one exception I’m making for this project is that this particular trial will be paid out of a very special trust fund, if it should be successful” the doctor replied, again glancing at the urn. “Thank you sir,” Patrick said. “Where do I sign?”
  5. Ok guys, here’s the new story I’ve been working on. It’s of a similar size and scale to my last story "AJ & Noah". It’s told from the point of view of Woody (real name Sebastian Wood), a handsome, sassy, self assured (some might cocky) bodybuilder with a cheeky Instagram persona. Woody attends Montgomery University of Bodybuilding & Fitness; the only school in the world dedicated to turning its students into pro bodybuilders, where lessons include Posing Practice 101, Anatomy & Aesthetics and A History of Bodybuilding. There are a few references/Easter eggs to AJ & Noah and some of my other stories in here for anyone who’s familiar with them! I’ve got my friend @reeddune working on some illustrations too which I’ll be sharing soon. MUSCLE UNIVERSITY One I open my eyes and this feeling of warmth washes over me. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I woke up this happy. I look over to my best friend Emily lying in the bed next to me and she gives me this happy knowing grin. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about last night. Just two friends getting a bit drunk and going to the local gay club. But everything about it was awesome. The atmosphere. The people. And I just want to do it all over again. “How’s the head?” she asks me. I smile and shrug under the duvet of her bed. “I feel fine!” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe how much attention you were getting last night!” I beam back at her. “I’m used to it!” I reply cheekily. Even though I’m actually not. At least not these days. Emily grins and playfully rolls her eyes. “I loved it when that guy asked to feel my biceps!” I say excitedly. Emily giggles. “And then his mate joined in!” she says. “They were so funny!” I turn away from her and look up to the ceiling. God I love this room. This house. This town. Everything here is so … normal. It’s the complete opposite to my life at my own university. And now I feel a sudden pang of sadness at the realisation that none of this is mine. It’s Emily's. This is her room. In her student house. In her university town. And I’ll be going back to my (exceptionally not normal) student life in a few hours time. “I’m just surprised you didn’t meet someone and abandon me like you normally do!” Emily quips, with one eyebrow raised. I look over at her and smirk. “I probably should have done! It’s pretty much my only chance to pull these days!” “Seb, there must be other gay guys at your uni?” I pull a face. “You would think!” It might sound a little crazy, but I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if I was the only gay guy at my university. We stay silent for a while. “Is that club open again tonight?” I ask. She looks at me suspiciously. “Yeah?” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down. “What if I didn’t go back today and we go out again tonight?” What If I don’t go back at all, I think. “Erm … don’t you have an exam tomorrow morning?” I pull a face. “Meh!” Emily grins at me. I know she’d love me to stay another night, but we both know that I’m going to be sitting on that train back to Scotland in a few hours time. I sigh, pull the duvet down and look at the thick, perfectly pumped pecs bulging off my chest. “What do you think, boys? Do you wanna go back to Scotland today? Bounce once for yes, twice for no!” Then I bounce my pecs twice. Emily giggles in response. “The pecs have spoken!” I exclaim. She giddily beams back at me and everything suddenly feels good again. I love who I am when I’m with Emily. I love who I am when I’m here. It’s different to how I am at my own university. I don’t feel like I have to put on a front. I’m not competing with anyone. I can let my guard down. I can relax. I guess (like everything else here) I can be normal. Well, as normal as a sixteen stone bodybuilder with arms twice the size as most lads’ my age can be. A few hours later and we’re at the train station, my holdall thrown over one of my ridiculously broad shoulders. My train leaves in fifteen minutes and I want to get a good seat. As much as I love visiting Emily, the seven hour train journey to get there and back is never exactly fun. “Are you still coming down for your birthday next month?” she asks. “Yeah! Of course!” I can’t imagine spending my birthday at my own university. Jesus. How fucking depressing would that be? A couple walk past us; a boy and a girl. They both stare at me as they do and the girl pulls a funny face and looks at the boy wide eyed. Emily looks at me and we both grin. “Jeez! It’s like no one has ever seen a bodybuilder before!” I say. Emily laughs. “You’re definitely a novelty down here!” Something pulls in my stomach. A desire. This is what I want to be. What I should be. A novelty. A rare thing. Something out of the ordinary. This is what I want all the time. I suddenly feel a heavy sadness that I have to leave. “Do your think your uni would let me transfer down here?” I ask Emily. She gives me a sad smile. I know the answer to that one. “I’m not really sure if they’d be able to match your course!” I roll my eyes and manage to smile. Of course they fucking wouldn’t. No other university in the world would be able to match my course. I’m stuck there for another two and a half years. And then … well then there’s a very good chance that I’ll get to live my dream. It’s one small mercy I guess. The light at the end of the tunnel. The one thing I cling to during my shittiest days. Luckily the train isn’t that busy so I manage to have two seats to myself for the entire journey. On the journey down here two days ago some unfortunate fucker had to sit next to me. Because I’m basically built like a brick shithouse, I was spilling over onto his seat. The poor bastard was squashed up with half of his body hanging out into the aisle. Of course, there are some guys out there who would probably enjoy sitting next to me. Some who’d probably walk over hot fucking coals for a chance to be squashed up against my huge, muscular body in fact. The randy buggers. I divide my journey time up by revising for tomorrow's exam, listening to Spotify, staring at how huge and devastatingly sexy I am in the reflection of the train window (did I mention I’m a bit of a handsome fucker as well as being a two hundred and thirty pounds bodybuilder?) and thinking about how I’m going to spend the evening when I get back to my dorm room. By the way, you heard that right. I live in a shared fucking dorm room. Ugh. Just like the ones you see in all those films set in American colleges. Two beds. Two people. Two complete strangers chosen at random by a computer being forced to share a room. I mean … fucking seriously? My university is probably the only one in the UK that has them. They say it helps the students to bond. Really it’s just a cheaper way of housing us. It’s not like I can live off campus either. Trust me, I would if I could. But it's impossible. Because my university is in the middle of sodding nowhere. I’m complaining, but in actual fact, I’m one of the extremely lucky few first years who doesn't actually share his dorm room. Woo-hoo! My old roommate Craig (who was noisy, messy and had about as much banter as a brick) dropped out a few months ago so I have the whole room to myself. It’s mostly great, though there are times when I find myself getting a bit bored. There’s even been a few times where I’ve suddenly realised that I’m talking to myself. I have no idea what that’s about. Half way through the train journey I go to use the toilet. There’s a big mirror on the wall. Christ, I look huge. I’m always a little taken aback when I see my reflection in a foreign mirror. And this is no exception. My shoulders look ridiculous, my famously thick pecs (at least in the world of online muscle fans) are bulging underneath my plain white t-shirt (you should see them in a vest!) and my arms look straight up fucking monstrous. I guess I’m kinda known for my arms. I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging, but you should see the size of my biceps. They just fucking explode off my arms when flexed. My triceps are pretty crazy too. I mean, at this point I’m basically just an all round freak. Strangers in the street would probably run away from me screaming if I wasn’t so bloody good looking with it. Which people feel the need to remind me about quite a lot on Instagram. I’m always getting told how handsome I am by random users. And it’s not just on Instagram. I read a crazy comment on a muscle blog once where someone said I wouldn’t look too out of place in one of those American high school films where the hot jock guys always look way too old to be playing teenagers. I kinda loved reading that. Then I started imagining what kind of character I could play. I was thinking an unusually buff, British exchange student all the girls go crazy over but who’s actually secretly gay. Then some big Hollywood producer could snap me up and put me in a Marvel film as a superhero. Or as some mutant freak in the latest X-Men film (no CGI needed). I mess with my brown hair a little, which is getting a bit too long at the top, to restyle it. I turn my head to the side and look at my jawline in the reflection of the mirror. People are always mentioning my jawline on the Internet. Then I wiggle my eyebrows up and down and flash a big, cheesy grin at my reflection. And then I laugh at myself. Because I’m such a fucking knob sometimes. I lift my t-shirt up and HOLY ABS. God, I love my stomach muscles. They really fucking POP. It’s like I’ve got six big cobblestones trapped under my skin and they’re trying to burst out. They’re definitely amongst the best developed and most aesthetic abs of all the lads in my year. An idea pops into my head which I can’t resist following through with. I whip out my phone and take a picture of myself, flexing the bicep muscles in my right arm in the mirror while pulling a funny face. Then I load up Instagram and type a cheeky caption. Me and this bad boy bulging off my arm are on a train back to MU. Everyone keeps staring at me. It’s like they’ve never seen a muscle monster before. Weird! #huge #biceps #watchmegrow #freak4life #hellyeah #sexymonster And BOOM … the post is up and my sexy face and bulging biceps are out there for all the world to see. Or all twelve thousand of my Instagram followers anyway. My chest flutters with excitement at the thought of all the likes and comments that will, without question, soon come flooding in. As I walk (well, more like strut) through the carriage to return to my seat, practically every passenger looks up at me. I clock one guy I’m fast approaching who has his head buried in a book. I cough loudly as I walk towards him and he casually glances up. This comical, shocked expression takes over his face and his eyes look like they’re about pop out of their sockets when he looks at me. Ha! I give my new admirer a mischievous smirk as I strut past his seat. And no doubt half the carriage are now checking out my obscenely huge, round arse which is stuffed into my painted on skinny jeans. When I settle back into my seat I load up Instagram again on my phone. I feel a surge of excitement because (as predicted) the reaction to my latest post is crazy. The likes are going mad and new comments keep popping up. Someone calls me a “super freak” (love it). Another person says I’m “so so handsome”. I get called huge, unbelievable and some dude tells me he wants to get his hands on my biceps. The filthy bugger! I like every comment, and even reply to some. Thanking them, or saying “hell yeah” or “I need to get even BIGGER”. For some comments I just leave an emoji. One gets a winky face, another gets the emoji with the one eye closed and the tongue sticking out (I LOVE that one) and, fuck it, the guy who wants to feel my biceps gets the face blowing a kiss emoji. It’s flirty. It’s cheeky. It’s outrageous. And it’s so fucking ME. I love getting all that attention. I love making people go crazy. And I love turning people on. Knowing that they’re aroused by my huge muscles. God. It’s such a bonkers and powerful thought. I jump in the Uber I’ve booked when I get to my final station. The poor driver looks fucking terrified. As we drive to my campus this unsettling feeling churns in my stomach. This is the worst part about going to visit Emily at her university, or going back to my parents for long weekends or holidays; the horrible feeling I get whenever I have to return. If I were in a better mood, I might give my Uber driver a cheeky flex of my biceps before getting out of the car. Instead I say thanks and reluctantly get out. I pause as I look at the assortment of big brick buildings before me and the surrounding greenery. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about my university campus from the outside. It looks like any middle tier university in the UK. I breathe a deep sigh as I look at the only clue that this is anything but an ordinary university campus - a graphic image of an arm with big, flexed bicep muscles on the side of the Prince House building sitting next to the following words: “MONTGOMERY UNIVERSITY OF BODYBUILDING & FITNESS. MAKING TOMORROW'S TOP BODYBUILDERS.”
  6. “Nah. Still no. I don’t get it.” Harry stood with his brow furrowed in front of Jacob, clearly perplexed. Jacob sighed. He’d been ready for this, it was very complex stuff, and Harry wasn’t exactly known for his outstanding intelligence. “Ok, so first off, time isn’t a straight line. We can’t really look at time, but it’s really convoluted…” he began. Harry nodded but already seemed to be lost. “It’s complicated and it crosses over itself and collides at different points.” He drew a big squiggle on the whiteboard to illustrate his point. He gestured to where two parts of the line crossed. “Here, where time collides, is what we call a ‘junction.’” Harry continued to nod. Jacob pointed at the machine. It was essentially a computer hooked up to a helmet, covered in strange electrodes and wires. “This machine sends a signal at a frequency that should be able to pass THROUGH those junctions.” “What, so to a different time?” Harry asked. “Exactly!” Jacob said, excited that his friend was getting it. “This helmet scans your brain waves, and using a sample of your DNA, encodes the signal in a way that would only affect you, but at different points in time.” “Wait, so what, I can get messages from the future?” Harry said, seeming interested suddenly. Jacob rolled his eyes knowing he was thinking about the lottery or something. “Not exactly. Think of it like a really strong hypnosis tape. We put a prompt into the computer, and that message is sent out as a signal. It would be like having an idea soaked into your brain all through your life.” “What do you mean.” Harry said. “Well, it would just be an idea that would be reinforced, like training a dog, but… retroactively. Imagine being able to break a drug addiction by stopping it before it happened, or just changing the way you think just a little bit so you never chose to stop going to the gym or something…” he trailed off, almost revealing too much of his own desires. “Or, for instance, rewriting a lab rat’s mentality so it lost the ability to feel full.” With that he gestured to a glass enclosure which housed a morbidly obese rat, it’s little feet wiggling just enough to reach the floor and roll itself over to the food bowl. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting.” Said Harry, repulsed. “Well, it was a perfectly healthy rat last night. In fact it was a little underweight.” “Jesus. Wait, hang on, so you’re basically telling me that this machine can rewrite history?” he asked, snapping back to attention. “To a degree. It only works on the person wearing the helmet, and it can only change their thought patterns so much. If you try something too radical, the person would consciously reject the idea, and when it kept coming back they’d probably get doped up by a psychologist.” “Ok, so why are you telling me this?” “I need you to be my first human test subject.” Jacob said sheepishly. “Wait, what? And end up like Chubs over there?” Harry said, standing up quickly and pointing at the obese rat which had now rolled onto its side, struggling to get right-side up again. “No, I mean, well, yes, but we don’t need to make the prompt make you FAT, it could be anything!” Jacob said desperately trying to regain Harry’s calmness. “This is for my doctorate, and I need to be able to prove that the machine works.” “Well why don’t you do it yourself?” “I will, but I need to be sure first. I hard-coded it so that whenever my own DNA is used, a secondary prompt will always be used to implant the idea of the machine into me. That way it shouldn’t be able to cause a change that would destroy the machine and prevent me fixing anything that gets fucked up.” “Like me for instance?” said Harry, raising an eyebrow. “Well, yeah.” Jacob said. “Point is, I think it’s completely functional, and it worked on the rat. I just need a human test to make sure the prompt works with the human brain and doesn’t get muddled up somehow.” Harry thought for a while. “And I get to pick the prompt?” he asked, coyly. “Sure. That is, as long as it’s something we can clearly observe.” Harry continued to think. “Fine. But no judgement alright?” “Great! Of course not! So what do you want the prompt to be?” Jacob said, rushing to the computer’s keyboard. “Well, I’ve always been… decently fit I guess.” Started Harry, blushing. It was true, Jacob had always thought Harry had a beautiful body. He was tall and lithe. He wasn’t muscular, per se, but he had a tight swimmer’s build that looked good in everything. “Yeah, and?” “Well I only started really hitting the gym hard recently, and I feel like I sort of missed my prime for it.” “Harry, you’re 24.” “Yeah, I know, but like, if I had’ve worked out seriously through puberty, I could be pretty… hot.” “Ok, so basically you want the prompt to be something like ‘I love working out in the gym.’” Jacob said. “Yeah, that’d make a nice start.” “A start?” said Jacob, half laughing. “Well, if I can rewrite my life, you think I’m stopping after just one go?” “Ok, ok, let’s get to that when we get to it.” Jacob hammered on the keyboard, inputting parameters and the prompt; “I love working out in the gym.” “Alright, we are ready to go, and… done.” He pushed the enter key with a decisive motion. The loud clack of the key was followed by a high-pitched whirring from the computer as fans buzzed to life. Harry felt a tingling sensation in his scalp as automatic sensors wormed their way across his head. After a few minutes, the machine’s activity died down and Harry looked around expectantly. “Is that it?” he asked, sounding a bit let down. Jacob looked at the computer monitor. A blinking, green phrase on the screen read “Transmission successful.” “Yeah, it looks like it worked.” Said Jacob smiling widely. “Really?” asked Harry, looking down at himself. “I don’t feel any different. Don’t tell me this is the improved me and I just don’t remember cos my past changed.” Jacob smirked. “Well the rat took about 10 minutes to see any difference. I noticed the changes so I don’t imagine we wouldn’t notice it happen with you.” He began to finger through a small pile of notes on the machine. “The machine sends messages through junctions in the timeline, which in turn affects the present, and the future, but because we’re making a change that never happened before we basically cause a paradox.” “Can you explain that a bit, I’m not a nerd.” Said Harry, rolling his eyes for effect. “Ok, so there’s a timeline where everything happened normally, which brought you to this point where you made the decision to change your past. Since you changed your past, when you got to this point in your life there’d never be a reason to make that change since it already happened, meaning your past WOULDN’T be changed, and would happen normally.” Harry just looked confused again. “Ok, so in order for you to both make the decision, and not make the decision, you basically have two distinct pasts now. Both have to exist for the other to make any sense.” He drew on the white board again, drawing a line that split in two, and then rejoined, like a river splitting and then coming together again. “As far as I can tell, there’s no reason it shouldn’t work out just fine, in the grand scheme of things.” Jacob looked back at Harry, only to see he was barely paying attention. Harry’s hand was scratching at his chest. As Jacob watched he saw that it was less the way you would scratch an itch, and more the way you would rub a sore muscle, almost massage-like. “Something feels weird.” Said Harry. He took the helmet with all its sensors off his head and got up from the chair. “It’s like, lik- AH!” he said jerking his head back. “Like something’s moving under my skin.” Jacob got up to get a closer look. “Take your shirt off, let me see what’s happening, something could be wrong.” Harry started to pull his t-shirt upward. As it got up to his chest the material grew tight and was fighting being pulled from his skin. “Ow, Jesus, it’s so tight!” Harry protested. “I can’t get it off. As he let go of the hem, Jacob saw the problem. The material was stretched impossibly tight over Harry’s chest, because his chest was getting larger. He watched as what was once a thin, tight chest ballooned into dense, meaty pecs. Two wide, rounded lumps grew in front of Jacob’s eyes as Harry’s nipples grew from almost 2D into thick, swollen tits, and then started to push downwards as the expanding flesh above them continued to grow. There was a harsh crack, and Jacob looked up to see the collar of Harry’s t-shirt had given way. The red material was moving steadily to the sides, accompanied by a loud ripping noise as the split spread downwards. In seconds, Harry’s chest was bare. His pale chest was immense, somehow seeming even bigger now that it was uncovered. A deep crevasse ran between the two huge slabs of muscle, each with a half inch-long tit neatly sitting under it. As the rip continued downwards, Jacob’s eyes followed, and to his amazement he watches as Harry’s stomach contorted and flexed, bringing forth two, then four, then six, then eight spectacular abs. Each was big enough that Jacob could’ve fit his hand around one just barely, and they sat perfectly symmetrically down Harry’s front. The bottom of the shirt gave way, and as it fell to the sides, shredded obliques were revealed below ribs, revealed by the complete lack of body fat. Harry, still somewhat dazed, grabbed at the two sides of the shirt hanging off him and tugged. In one swift motion the sleeves of the tattered garment were obliterated, revealing still swelling delts. Each looked to be in competition with his head for size, but had deep striations that looked to go almost to the bone. Harry roared in approval, raising his arms in a double bicep pose which started unimpressively, but pure muscle rocketed down his arms, twisting into colossal football-sized biceps, and equally impressive triceps. Veins twisted and wrapped around the surface looking like a spider’s web, but as thick as a normal person’s fingers. His forearms broadened until they could be confused for a whole ham. Jacob, both enthralled by the success of the experiment, and enamoured by the changed he was seeing in front of him, reached forwards to fumble with Harry’s belt. A huge meaty paw pushed aside his smaller, fragile hand and grasped at the buckle with seemed to shatter in his grip. As his belt pulled away, his jeans started to drop to the floor, but were caught quickly as, even undone, the waistband was significantly narrower than the legs it was trying to slide past. “Oh shit!” Harry let loose, as the denim filled quickly and began to strain. Jacob had never heard a sound like the resounding splintering noise the jeans made as solid, alabaster steel burst out both sides. Harry’s legs looked freakish, they grew enormous, and the contrast with his narrow waist would have been almost laughable if it weren’t so hot. As the legs of his boxer briefs were forced upwards, deep cuts in the muscle were revealed. Each of the quads was thicker than Jacob’s whole torso, and the cuts were so intense he felt drawn to wrap his fingers around the long, thick muscle heads. As far as he could tell Harry wasn’t even flexing, he was just so immense and so shredded that every single fiber was visible through his paper-thin skin. Beneath the quads, teardrop calves clung onto sturdy lower legs, though at this point they were resembling a capital “P” more so than a teardrop. Jacob almost had to step back as the last remains of clothing on the behemoth twitched before him. The bulge in Harry’s too-small boxer briefs began to swell until it looked like an overgrown banana was being restrained by them; every pulsing inch clearly discernible through the stretched fabric as it sat atop two orange-sized balls. He could even see several inches of thick, vascular cock where the waistband was being pulled away from Harry’s abs, by both the new narrowness of his waist, and the weight of the monster restrained there. Jacob looked up at Harry, his mouth open in awe. Harry looked down, but nervously had to take a step back as he couldn’t see Jacob past his new pec shelf. Just moving his head felt strange, as he could feel the vast muscles of his traps reaching up almost as high as his ears twitching against his thick neck to move. He reached an arm up to feel his neck, and was surprised to meet resistance as his biceps collided with his pecs, limiting movement. Touching his neck he found that it was as thick as his own head, maybe even an inch or two thicker. “Holy fuck.” He said, to Jacob, his voice multiple octaves deeper than it had been, minutes ago. “I mean… holy fuck.” Jacob could barely think, and only managed a few astonished words. “All that from ‘I love working out in the gym?’”
  7. Well... here you go. A new story... first part of... maybe three of four. Not really sure. Hope you enjoy it!! Oh... Ive seen so many incredible illustrators out there... if anyone is every interested in illustrating one of my stories... I would love it!!! -Q ThInk It: A Writer's Tool (Based on a True Story) Chapter One: The First Chapter Quinn O’Rourke had never been much of a writer until he began penning erotic muscle growth stories to help further feed his obsession. Finding both mental and physical release through his writing, he lived for sharing his monomania for serious muscle growth and transformation of both mind and body to all of the unknown readers on a website. It made him grateful when he read constructive criticism, and over the moon when people wrote or DM’d him on how much they enjoyed his stories, got off on them, and just like himself, wanted more. His own mania with all things muscle and growth had begun when he was 12 and read a Dungeons and Dragons Choose Your Own Adventure-type book. In it, the hero was a young ninja trying to save his land from a dark magician. As he read, Quinn had become spell-bound when the hero, finding a liquid in a bottle, drank it, and began to grow into a massive and muscular giant. Unfortunately for Quinn, that adventure had ended there as the hero grew and took down the castle, burying him beneath him. Quinn lay there after reading that page… and could feel his blood boiling. He didn’t know why… and he didn’t have the language to comprehend how reading this had turned him on… and how it would mark his future. He did disagree with the ending, and imagined one where the hero rose through the rubble like a God, growing as massive as a mountain, and becoming more and more muscular. When Quinn eventually hit puberty… late… at 16… he hit it with a bang. Up he shot to 6’6, his shoulders became naturally broad, and his body had the musculature of an active teenager. His mother, being somewhat over protective, never let him play after-school sports, but he did excel in gym class, and did go for a swim and run every morning before school. In his bedroom, he jerked off to daydreams of men with muscle beyond imagining, massive penises, and growing to enormous size… his mind always going back to that first story. In college, Quinn worked out for the first time… and took to it like the metaphorical fish to water. Watching his body change, sculpt, and grow became an obsession… one could say… an addiction. By senior year he had really bulked up, adding over 46 lbs of pure muscle, and discovered that his own body turned him on more than anything else… well that was not entirely true… As he stood in front of the mirror, flexing various muscle groups, admiring his own symmetry and size, running his hands over his meaty pecs, and loving how thick his quads were…. he would also fantasise about getting even bigger… more masculine… more muscular, taller… thicker… a beast of a man. Grabbing onto his 7” cock, he would stroke it slowly as he took in his body… imagining growth shooting through him making him bigger and more mighty… more mountain then man. Faster and faster he would stroke, not wanting it to end but needing to feel that orgasmic rush flood through him. Minutes later, sweat dripping from his head and his pits, beads flowing down through the valley between his pecs and over his cobblestoned abs, he would shoot a massive load all over the mirror. Exhausted and panting... he would lean his head against the mirror, frustrated that he would never reach his full potential. Time passed… Quinn graduated… got an internship with a bank… did well… they kept him on… and he began to climb the corporate ladder. He still worked out and took care of his body… but time never allowed him to do it with the same intensity… he was just maintaining. He dated guys… loved how it felt when they worshipped his body and screamed out when he fucked them, but he never could reach the high he was always searching for. Usually when the left or slept, he would go into his bathroom, stand in front of his mirror, flex, lick, and worship himself, imagining his shoulders growing broader, his pecs thicker and larger, his biceps ballooning to sizes larger than his head, and his quads bursting into redwood proportions. Ejaculating to this often satisfied him more than a mouth, ass, or hand could. He once met with a guy who simply wanted to worship his body and muscle, and ‘bask in his masculinity.’ Quinn thought that this might be exactly what he was looking for… but unfortunately it just did very little for him. Perhaps it was that he wasn’t physically attracted to the guy. He did do his best when it came to massaging, licking, cleaning, and all over worshiping Quinn, and even though he was an expert ass-eater and cock sucker… when it was over… it didn’t give Quinn the same high his own overactive imagination could give. Quinn was now 32… he had a high powered job, an office with a kick ass view, a body most 25 year olds would kill for, and a lot of money in the bank. When he was offered the transfer to London to oversee the international sector, with a raise and a bonus of £500,000, he packed his bags and moved. London was an incredible city… always on the move and always alive. There was something to do every second of the day, and when he wasn’t working or working out, he was going to clubs, the theatre, museums, and festivals in the park. It was at Hampstead Heath in July where Quinn’s future took a turn. The Heath, a popular gay cruising site, was a large park with three swimming areas: one for men, one for women, and one for families. With some friends, Quinn went one Bank Holiday to the pond, and there, while swimming, he met Russel. Lying in the sun, they talked, drank, and it was obvious that they both wanted the same thing. As Quinn fucked him at his flat, Russell screamed out words that rang through his head: ‘You’re huge… fuck your muscles... such power… you’re a beast… fuck me harder… use all the strength your body has… use me… show me how Alpha you are!!!’ Using Russell’s words for inspiration, he fucked the life out of him… and when it was finally over and Russell was leaving… he kissed Quinn and said: ‘Fuck!!! If I didn’t have work tomorrow I’d let you do me all night. Never met an Alpha like you! The only thing better would be two of you… or two of you rolled into one! Fuck yeah… muscles going on for days! Fuck… you’d be a mountain of a man! My ultimate fantasy come to life!!! Welcome to London, mate! They exchanged numbers with the knowledge they would never get in touch, and as Quinn lay in bed that night, his cock hard and leaking, he heard the words echo in his head: ‘Alpha… you’re huge… mountain of a man… such power… you’re a beast… use all the strength you have… your muscles… two rolled into one… muscles for days…my fantasy come to life.’ Yes, Quinn thought as he shot all over himself and the bed… that is my fantasy as well… ’ The next day, Quinn made a decision that changed his life. He worked hard but worked out even harder. As his muscles grew larger… he let the hair on his head and body grow out. No more shaving his chest for him… he was a beast... No one at work said anything… but everyone noticed the transformation occurring. You couldn’t miss it!! Within a year and a half he weighed 266 pounds of hard, swollen muscle. He had let his dirty blonde hair grow down to his shoulders, grew a beard, and had several tribal tattoos designed and inked to decorate his body. His exterior matched the Alpha he had always been inside… but as he venerated himself in front of the mirror… as he flexed and licked and touched and stroked… he wanted more… he needed more...he would have more. That was 8 months ago. With months of hard work, some hgh and test, Quinn weighed in at a stacked 293 pounds of ripped muscle. He still did extraordinarily well at work, and even if his boss didn’t like the new look… he couldn’t argue with a man who was bringing in millions each day. Quinn could care less, though. His heart just wasn’t in his job anymore. All he cared about was muscle… fucking… and being the biggest and best in the room. The true Alpha. Through a Google search, he found his way to a muscle growth story web site, and had spent days reading, and wanking. He loved most of what he read, and really respected a good handful of writers… especially the ones who could get him leaking and on the edge of cumming without ever touching himself. Now, those were outstanding stories… but he also felt that many didn’t go far enough. The desire for muscle was one thing… but the need… the obsession… the hunger and the yearning for supremacy wasn’t always there. That erotic mixture of bodily pain and pleasure… that was what Quinn needed. One night, when his fantasies and throbbing cock wouldn’t let him sleep, he decided to try his hand at writing a story of his own. The first couple were horribly cliche, and he wouldn’t dare show anybody. For a while he tried to write at night after work, but found that his imagination was completely fuelled right after working out. \in a new ritual, he would leave the gym swole and horny, his balls churning for relief, take a shower at work, get into a suit that barely fit him anymore, and sit down at his desk to write. Finally, after weeks of hard work, and afraid but willing to give it a shot… he decided to post the first chapter of one of the stories he had been working on… and people actually liked it!!! Soon his days were filled with working out and writing with some work thrown in. The good thing about being upper management of a bank is that everyone below you does the actual work for you. He was just there to manage a team, get the information needed to make the bank even more money, tie it together and deliver with a pretty bow. This gave him plenty of time to write. As he became more captivated by his own words… turned on by his own writing… he wouldn’t let himself cum until what he was working on was perfect! Everything was flawless until the bank put up a new firewall on all of the computers. No attachments could be sent to unauthorised outside computers. If he asked to have his home computer authorised, that would put up several red flags… what could he want to send to himself? If he brought a laptop to work… that would look odd, and if he used a Zip drive in the computer, that was logged automatically onto the system. The only thing he had left to write on was his phone, and his hands were just too large to comfortably hit the right keys on the touch screen. Opening the App Store, he searched for writing apps where he could use his voice to type. Several popped up, but one that caught his eye was called: ThInk It Writing Tool. Reading the app description, it had everything he could want: it was easy to set up, it would detect only one voice if he was outside or somewhere public, it could be programmed to only respond to his voice, it would sink to his cloud, and as an added bonus, it hosted a community of writers and readers if he was ever interested in putting his stories out there to a wider public. The one thing that solidified the deal was the logo: a muscular arm holding a globe with an illustrated brain in it. Waiting till he got home to try the App, he was grateful to see that his friend Jacob, from the States, wasn’t around. He’s probably either at rehearsal, out sightseeing...or whoring around, Quinn thought with a grin as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Any one of those options was a possibility. Quinn and Jacob has been frat brothers in college, and used to play volleyball, and sometimes workout together. After graduation, Jacob followed his dream of staring in musicals on Broadway, and now he was actually doing it. He was in London for the next 8 months playing the role he had originated on Broadway in a West End musical. The production company had rented him a flat, but while it was being recarpeted and painted, Jacob was staying with Quinn. Their friendship was purely platonic, thought being the only two out gay guys in their frat house, they had fooled around together until they realised they were both tops, and just kept the friendship. Jacob fit the quintessential leading man stereotype. His was talented, his voice was amazing, he was an incredible dancer, he was tall, dark, and handsome with a tight hairless muscular body, square jaw, and a smile that could battle the brightness of Piccadilly Circus. The one thing he didn’t have going for him was that he had a small cock. Now, it wasn’t freakish small… it was about 4.5 when hard, and perhaps it was a little thin, but it worked perfectly fine. No one had ever told him that they had a problem with it… but for Jacob, with his height and looks, he was always subconscious. Quinn has never thought this was an issue to Jacob until the other night, when after a few drinks, he began to confess how inadequate he felt. Apparently he had gone home with this cute blonde twink, and found him to be packing a huge piece of meat. Jacob had felt so belittled that he couldn’t even perform and had to leave. He was the top!! The bottom couldn’t have a bigger cock than him!! Totally understanding how Jacob felt regarding his own body dissatisfaction, Quinn tried to talk to him, but Jacob blew him off with a laugh, exclaiming that he had to be joking: Quinn was a muscle master, he said, and he knew it! After that, Quinn never brought it up. Sitting in his favorite chair in the empty flat, a story began to pop into Quinn’s head. He couldn’t help Jacob, but he could write about it. He got out his phone and opened ThInk It! A blank white screen popped up. Character/Characters Name: We recommend using the name of people you know to create realistic characters. Using just his voice, Quinn said loudly: Jacob Effortlessly the name popped up on the screen. Yes, he thought. This is going to work out great. Wonderful. If you have additional characters, please return to this prompt. What is Jacob’s goal? To have a massive cock. Wonderful. How will Jacob achieve this? He buys an experimental drug from a sex shop in SoHo. Wonderful. What is Jacob’s location? My flat. Wonderful. Now dictate the first paragraph and we’ll bring your words to life. Jacob sat on the bus a few moments away from his stop. He was sweating and his heart was beating fast as he thought about what was in his backpack. If he got only half of what that guy had, he thought, he’d be a happy man. Pressing the button, Jacob waited for the bus to come to a stop, and got off. Quickly he walked down the street until he came to the door of the street entrance flat he was staying in for a week with his friend Quinn. Jacob unlocked the door hoping that no one was home, and as he ran from room to room, he was positive he was alone. Quinn must still be at work, he said to himself out loud… Quinn was startled as the door to his flat flew open and Jacob rushed into the living room. - Hey man!! How’s it… - Quinn?! You home? Quinn?? - I’m sitting right… Jacob walked right past him and began looking in each room, calling his name. Finally he returned to the living room. - Quinn must still be at work. As soon as he said those very words, Jacob stopped moving and stood frozen in place. - You okay, man? Quinn got up from his chair and walked toward his friend. Jacob appeared before him as if Quinn had paused him on TV. Even with all of his strength, Quinn couldn’t move him. - What the fuck?? A bell tone came from his phone. As he tried to move Jacob again, the bell tone occurred more often and proceeded to continuously get louder. Frustrated, Quinn grabbed it from where he had laid it down. Wonderful start! Jacob is waiting. What happens next? Quinn looked back at Jacob, looked at his phone, and spoke aloud: Secure that Quinn wasn’t home, Jacob grabbed his backpack, sat on the couch, and opened it. From within he pulled a black plastic bag. Quinn had just finished his last word when Jacob started moving again, doing exactly as Quinn had described. As soon as he pulled out the black bag, he froze again. The bell tone rang again and Quinn looked at the screen. Wonderful! Jacob is waiting. What happens next? When you feel that your authorship of Jacob’s story is complete… you will be faced with the options of saving, deleting, or editing.. How, Quinn thought, how can this be happening? He didn’t want to believe it, but it was true: Through the app, Quinn was controlling Jacob’s reality!! Lets see how far we can go with this! From the black bag, Jacob removed a long box. With serious intention, he opened the box, and sitting within with was a large syringe filled with an orange/brown fluid. Quinn laughed out loud as he watched his words come to life. Looking at the frozen Jacob, Quinns cock started to get hard as he thought about all of the possibilities. Soon his cock began to leak as his imagination went wild. Jacob pulled the large syringe out and looked at it, admiring the orange shine. With a steady hand, he placed it on the table. From the box, he removed a typed slip of paper and read aloud: In the chamber are 6 cc’s of compound 8GN. Although human trials have been conducted, we have discovered that the effectiveness varies per individual. As this compound is not diluted, feel free to dilute with saline solution 1:1 to soften results. As the adage says: a little goes a long way. Remember that all effects are permanent. To use, inject into quad. Results are nearly instantaneous. Jacob put the sheet on the couch next to him, stood up, removed his shoes, and pulled off his jeans and underwear at the same time. Taking a quick glance at his own quad, Jacob leaned over and grabbed the syringe. He had never been a fan of needles, but there was no stopping him now. On the count of three, he impaled his right quad with the syringe. Once the needle was all the way in, Jacob stood there questioning what to do next. With a shaking hand, his thumb pressed down on the syringe and watched as 1cc of liquid plunged moved into his muscle. Stopping for a moment, Jacob proceeded again, this time adding two more. Satisfied, he was going to pull it out, but he stopped himself. If this works… I know myself… I’m gonna use it all. That guy who sold it had a solid 12 incher, and that’s exactly what I want. I want some guys to turn me down cause it’s too big! I want a bulge that shows the world I have a serious piece of meat in my pants. I want to be known by everyone for my twelve inches!! I’ll be a fuckin legend!! Filled with new determination, he injected the rest of the compound, and swiftly removed the empty syringe. Returning the syringe to the box, Jacob sat back down on the couch and waited. One minute passed, then two, when suddenly Jacob felt a flush of heat go over him. A third minute passed, and Jacob began to giggle… he didn’t know why… he just couldn’t help himself. By the fifth minute, Jacob was leaning his head back on the sofa and breathing deeply. Rapidly, his cock went from flaccid to hard in less than three seconds. It’s working!!! I can feel it!! It’s fucking working!!! Jacob lifted his heavy head and looked down at his cock with a grin. It had never been this hard or this swollen ever in his life!! Every vein was plumped up as if he was wearing a cock ring, or had some sort of invisible vice around the base of his shaft. His head kept falling back as wave after wave of elation and rapture shot through him. With each heartbeat Jacob could feel his cock filling more and more with blood, but it seemed as if none of it was exiting back into the rest of his body.. Looking down again with a laugh, his cock looked purple and swollen, the head tighter than it ever had been before. His cock was pulsing to his heartbeat now as more blood was forced in. Jacob was beginning to feel serious pain in his cock, and through his euphoria, worried that perhaps he had made a big mistake. With each heartbeat, as more and more veins popped up and fed his shaft, he worried that the skin from his cock was just going to split open and rip his cock in two. Need to call 911 or watEVER… Jacob fell back onto the couch as he felt himself get kicked in the balls over and over again by an invisible foot. The pain was agonising as his body convulsed. Just when he was positive that he was nearing death, the convulsions tapered down until all he felt was a swelling and a dull burning ache in his testicles. Leaning his head on the back of the sofa, beads of sweat dripping down his face, he moved his shaking hands to his balls and could feel that both were much larger than before, and like his heartbeat, were pulsating. Every few minutes the pain would intensify, and Jacob watched as his balls swelled larger. Within four minutes his testicles had grown to two large eggs fighting for space in his sack. Quinn was certainly hard right now watching Jacob in a fit of pleasure and pain. How far was he going to take this? A rush of power went through Quinn as he suddenly realised he held Jacob’s future in his hand… everyone’s future. He simply had to speak it and it came true. An idea came to him that he wanted to try out. In his fog of testicular growth, Jacob was startled when Quinn came home from work. The chime on his phone went off again, stopping Quinn from proceeding. Wonderful! Are you adding an additional character? Yes Wonderful. What is their name? Quinn. Quinn’s name appeared on the screen. Wonderful. What does Quinn want? This remains to be seen. Wonderful! If you need any character goals, please simply say: Goals. Would you like to return to your story? Yes. Wonderful! Quinn took a deep breath and began again. - Fuuuuck!!! Man… I… Yes… Quinn thought. He can finally see me! I’m part of the story now. What the fuck’s going on?? Jacob tried to answer him, but was slipping into an abyss of carnal lust. My cock… growing… soon… gonna have… twelve inches… of…meat… UUURRRGGGHHH!! Jacob’s head was thrown back as he panted and moaned. He knew Quinn was there… but he didn’t care! He could feel it in his crotch… as his balls continued to swell larger… he knew the birth of his new cock was just around the corner. Lifting his head, he could see his balls were as big as large kiwis now and swelling faster. The pressure in his cock was rising, and either it was going to explode with growth, or burst apart. Here…. it… FFFUUCCKKKKK YYEEAAHH!!! Jacob’s cock began to swell thicker. Breathing heavily as if he were in labour, laughing as well… in minutes it was Coke can thick and he finally felt like he had a real piece of meat in his hands. Growing… a… real… ass… ripper... Throbbing pulsing, and growing with his heartbeat, Jacob realised with glee that his thumb and fingers didn’t meet anymore. Almost as… thick as… my… wrist… now… Quinn. I can fucking see that!! Feel… it… feel how hot… and thick… it is… Feel… it… grow… Quinn kneeled down and placed his large hand on the shaft. Fuck, man!! It’s nearly as thick as a Foster’s can!! Only… the… beginning… Jacob spread his legs wider to accommodate his orange sized testicles that were now laying on the sofa. His sack had begun to grow along with his balls now, and Quinn was shocked when he could actually hear them churning, becoming super driven cum factories. In no time at all, Jacob’s cock head flared wider, the slit grew longer, and pre began to shoot from his cock as if he were cumming. Quinn’s fingers were no longer meeting as Jacob’s cock continued to thicken. The room began to smell of bleach and musk as pre was continuously flowing. A couple of heart beats and a couple of throbs, and there was more than an inch between Quinn’s thumb and middle finger. Gonna… have to… train boys… to take… it… FUICCKK!! Jacob’s cock swelled even wider until finally with the pressure, it began to lengthen. Really… growing… Elated, Jacob and Quinn both watched as Jacob’s cock crept up over 5 inches. Once it had started, it seemed to Jacob that his cock made up for lost time. Passing 5 inches… it soon reached six… and then seven. Let me… feel it… growing. Quinn took his hand away from Jacob’s cock, and in the time it took Jacob to place his own hand there, it was 8 inches. Jacob grinned wildly at Quinn, and throwing his head back, began to stroke himself. Quinn could only stare in awe as his best friend stroked his growing python, Jacob’s moans getting louder and more primal as it grew. Jacob’s balls were larger than baseballs, and shooting out more precum in greater volumes. His cock was now most certainly thicker than Quinn’s own wrist, and showed no sign of stopping. Is it… ten inches… yet??? Oh yeah. Should… be… stopping… soon… But, his cock, enjoying its new power, lengthened to eleven inches and then twelve. Quinn noticed that the veins of Jacob’s cock had grown much larger to force more and more blood in, nourishment needed for the newborn monster. When it hit 13”, Jacob’s cock-head began to join in the growth as it swelled thicker, flaring up and outward. Wanting to be larger than the shaft, it began to lengthen as well as becoming meatie,r until Jacob’s cock head was longer than half of his old cock!! With a loud rip, the slit lengthened even more, till it rivaled the length of Quinn’s thumb. As it hit 14”, Jacob moaned loudly as his cock and balls proceeded to swell even larger. Won’t… be able… to fuck… anyone with… this… now…. too… thick.., I know… I… don’t… care!! I… want… a… monster… Make me… a… freak… Quinn.., It’s as if he knows what’s happening here…. Meeting his best friends eyes… as another wave of growth hit him and it stretched longer than 15” Is this what you want? YES!!!! Are you sure? Do… it!!!! Make me… a fuckin… freak!!! Jacob smiled at Quinn. Within moments of speaking those words, his cock proceeded to grow even faster. FUCK YEAH!!!! At over 17”, his cock head much longer than his old erect cock, and his shaft thicker than Quinn’s 22” bicep, Jacob’s cock began to dip down as the weight of his beast began to overtake it. His balls were bigger than grapefruits now, and were constantly producing enough cum and testosterone for ten men. Using two hands, Jacob was frantically trying to jerk himself off. When it hit 18”, Jacob looked at Quinn and spoke in a suddenly surprising deeper voice I… need more… hands!!! Jerk it… with me! Quinn placed his hands on the immense column, and felt waves of superiority coming from it. The musk Jacob was emitting along with the smell of pre was intoxicating… Quinn looked at his friend, and realised that where once he had been clean shaven, a thick five o’clock shadow had taken up residence on his face. My body… is becoming... a tool for... pure… sex…. Quinn stroked the immense stanchion as it continued to get longer and thicker. More and more veins erupted to the surface, thick as hosing, feeding the emerging beast. Jacob’s stroking along with Quinn’s became more vigorous as his cock grew to a whopping 19”. Quinn stood to get a better grip on the upper shaft and head. My God, he thought… Jacob’s head is bigger than two of my hands! Jacob gave up using his hands and started to simply thrust his cock through Quinn’s hands as if he were fucking them. Jacob’s moans got deeper and louder as his cock hit 20” and showed no sign of stopping its incredible growth. My balls… can you hear them… so loud… producing more cum... and testosterone... than an army of men!!! Quinn looked down at the laughing Jacob. Staring at Jacob, Quinn could see that a change was overtaking his friend. The testosterone flooding through his veins had indeed done a number on him, and he was looking more primal… more masculine than he ever been before. Even his face was changing as his brow began to extend a little further and his eyes became deepset. He had a full beard now, and hair all over his body had sprouted and thickened. The smell coming off of him in waves was overpowering… it made Quinn’s head swim and had him thinking that he wanted to submit himself to Jacob and be used as his sex toy. As the essence passed through both of them, it became apparent that nothing on earth mattered except Jacob and the colossus that was wildy emerging from his crotch. Moaning and thrusting himself faster and harder into Quinn’s hands, lost in his world of sexual stimuli, Jacob began barking orders at Quinn. Fucking… lick my.... Cock head… boy!!! His voice, Quinn thought… his voice is so powerful… so loud, so deep, and… and so commanding. What is all of that testosterone doing to him? Trying to keep in his head that he was the only true Alpha in the room, Quinn found himself obeying Jacob and starting to feverishly lick his cockhead. That’s it… boy… worship this cock!!!! I am. How big… am I… boy? At least 25” inches long… thicker than my quads… Am I… a sex… god… now? Quinn struggled to answer… but he knew he had to tell Jacob the truth. YES!!!! All of the world will worship your cock! Never has there been one so huge, so magnificent, so impressive, so potent, and dominant. In a few minutes... I will cum… I can… feel it… Tell me… what will happen? Your cock will shoot up even longer and thicker. Your balls will swell larger, flooding you with more and more testosterone… You live for one thing and one thing only now… SEX!!! Jacob threw his head back and in a voice that sounded amplified, echoing throughout the flat… a deep deep bass… oozing with sex and power. - YES!!!! Jacob thrust twenty to thirty more times as Quinn tried as best as he could to worship this mighty cock. Suddenly, without warning. Jacob stopped moving, stated at him wide-eyed… and Quinn realised in the silence he could hear the torrent of cum rising up from Jacob’s balls. FFFFFUUUUKKKK!!! Jacob tried his best to grab onto his cock, but as the largest orgasm known to man overtook him, all he could do was close his eyes, pant, moan, and shout. A minute later, a geyser errupted from Jacob’s cock, and cum shot all over the room, hitting Quinn and throwing him backward on impact. It was impossible to control the massive hose as it began to spray the walls, the ceiling, several windows, and shattered the screen of his plasma TV. With each pulse that sent more and more cum skyward, Jacob’s cock and balls proceeded to gain more and more size and mass, shooting up past 31” and getting so thick that it was hard to believe this was a penis and not some redwood or stone pillar. After 5 minutes of continual orgasm, Jacob’s cum production began to slow down until he was only leaking from the massive slit. Just when Quinn thought it was all over,Jacob let out a thunderous, FUCK His cock shot up several more inches, and then he collapsed onto the couch, barely able to hold his head up. Quinn looked around at his flat, completely covered in cum. His friend was frozen once again on the couch, a drop of cum leaking from his cock frozen in mid-air. Fuck, Quinn thought… it's really easy to let your imagination run away with you on this app. Needing to clear his head, Quinn opened up a window. I can’t believe I allowed his musk to become so strong that I couldn’t even control myself. A few minutes longer and I might have let him fuck me. Great to go huge my first time!!! Quinn was taking in another deep breath of clean air from the window when he heard the chime from his phone. Wonderful!! Is your story is finished. Would you like to: a) publish it so it lives on forever, b) delete it and no one will ever know it existed except you, or c) take a moment and edit your story with clearer eyes. What will be your choice? Quinn looked at Jacob and wondered what he would want. Is this how he would want to live… a sex dominated stud with an unimaginably massive cock, a musk that held guys in his power, guys falling to their knees to be fucked by him, cumming gallons every time…. is this how he would want to live? Is this how I would want to live? Looking deeply at Jacob, Quinn knew what he had to do. Jacob tried to catch his breath as he came down from his mind altering orgasm. As he looked around the room at the chaos surrounding him… as he took in his slowly deflating titanic cock and balls, and as he began to feel the beginnings of his balls starting to churn again, he moved his eyes up to meet his friend, grinned, and said in the deepest and most sensual voice Quinn had ever heard: Fuck me!! That’s a pretty powerful weapon you got there now! Tell me about it!! You going to keep it? Don’t think I have an option! Well… while you were firing cumshots around the room, I looked online to see if there was an antidote, and it seems that if you...um… rub olive oil and salt on it… … couldn’t think of anything better on the fly, Quinn??? … within the first three hours of injection, it sucks the formula out and everything goes back to normal. Yeah… I don’t think so. Well, you got your answer. This monstrosity is the best thing to ever happen to me. You have no idea how it feels!! For the first time I feel alive!!! Really alive!! I don’t even exist anymore! It’s my master and I need to serve it. My life now is devoted to sexual pleasure only. I need to find more and more people to worship it, lick it, suck it, let me fuck them with it, and cum over and over and over again. I’ve been called for a greater purpose, boy, and I need to minister to it. You understand? Yeah. I think I do. Good. Jacob stood up the best he could and walked on shaky legs to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. It’s insane, Quinn. My balls are already starting to churn, and it feels even more potent than before, and I think this is how it’s always going to be… getting stronger and stronger… cumming longer and longer, until one day I just orgasm for eternity. How can you carry such weight so easily. The muscles in my groin… I think they evolved to enable me to. It’s heavy… but in a good way!! Love feeling the tug and pull!! Looks like I’m a grower and not much of a shower now! Quinn could see that fully soft, Jacobs cock was only twelve inches long and as thick as a Pringles can. Even his balls had shrunk to something a little more manageable. Take a good look because you’re not going to see it soft like this very often!! I bet! Join me!! Go buy a syringe and join me! I’d love to, man… but I have my own journey coming up… and I think it’s going to rival yours!! Good to hear! I can’t wait. Well, wish I could stay and clean up, but I have followers to initiate into the world of hedonism. Jacob took off the T-shirt he had been wearing and stood in front of Quinn in all of his glory. The testosterone of hundreds of men had perfected his body giving him a larger, muscular frame, and a hairy chest that made his muscles look even sexier. No more clothes for me anymore. Won’t need them. How will you survive? Didn’t I tell you? The day I left America, I bought a lottery ticket… and I won! 50 million dollars!! Good thinking, Quinn!! Give him an even happier ending... a massive cock and 50 million!!! That should be enough to build a temple great enough for this cock. Jacob walked toward the door, opened it, and was about to step out, when he turned back to his friend. Thanks for everything, boy. I might just go to that shop in Soho and buy another syringe or two… see what another dose will do! I bet it will be amazing. I think so too! See you soon, Quinn… and take a hold of that journey you’re about to go on by the balls, and demand the world sees you. Oh… if everything goes to how I imagine it… the world won’t have any option but to see me. Good boy!! It’s our time now. Quinn could hear Jacobs balls loudly beginning to churn and saw a flow of precum begining to leak from his cock head. The aroma hit Quinn right away, and he felt as if he needed to kneel down and worship that God-Cock. Before he submitted, Quinn moved toward the window to clear his head. Bye, Quinn. Don’t worry… we’ll meet again! With that, Jacob left Quinn’s flat. What did the future hold for him? Quinn wasn’t sure, but he knew whatever it was… it was going to be a life satisfying every carnal whim. Exhausted, Quinn leaned against the wall, his own balls aching for relief. Fuck!!! That was amazing, he thought! He was just about to whip his own cock out and jerk off when the bell tone came from his phone. Wonderful! I see your story is complete. Would you like to: a) publish it so it lives on forever, b) delete it and no one will ever know it existed except you, or c) take a moment and edit your story with clearer eyes. What will be your choice? A. Wonderful!!! Your story is now published and out in the world to see. Having completed one story, you have unlocked several new options. We look forward to working with you on your next story. Me too, he thought as he leaned against the wall stroking his hard cock. I can’t wait to see what my next one is!! ... to be continued
  8. Hi all, this is my first bash at putting up a story. Part 1 is a little on the short side, but serves as the introduction. I write primarily for fun, but enjoy the process (when writer's block doesn't strike, that is) - so any and all feedback is very much appreciated. Part 1: The Hunger He can't stop growing. Not that he wanted to, of course. He was addicted. It always ends up that way. The hunger is dormant at first, biding its time. Like many appetites (or should I say addictions?), it requires a trigger - a first taste. That first taste of muscle is like nothing else after; it stays with him forever. Often it’s a cartoon, featuring some character growing more muscular. Depending on the when he first imbibes, it may not even arouse him...merely intrigue - fascinate - him, for reasons he can’t yet grasp. But the hunger is awakened, and over time it starts to make itself known. Almost subconsciously, he will begin to seek out more. The hunger is insidious, and insatiable. Inevitably, it enslaves them. With each indulgence, it only grows more voracious. Stories of growth are joined by videos of bodybuilders; but the hunger soon demands more. He then joins a gym, and starts to grow, clothes tightening and giving way. Yet still the hunger is not satisfied. Each fall, deeper and deeper into the addiction, is easier to stomach than the last. It starts becoming easier to embrace the hunger. At first he resists the allure of steroids, but that resistance falters when the growth slows. As it happens, the ones who resist tend to perform the best; those who give in early often self-destruct, which just cuts short the pleasure. Inevitably, he succumbs to the promise of more, and faster, growth. Another fall. It will be followed by more - stacking numerous drugs, again and again. By this point, the hunger is all that’s left. Day and night revolve around feeding it. Such an innocent beginning. Such a glorious end. *** He is wanking furiously, pleasuring himself with dreams of enormity. His pecs - heaving as he grunts and groans - are so bloated he can’t reach his arm around to properly grasp his cock, forcing him to violently buck his hips. The chair is smothered by his mass, and creaks ominously with each thrust. His grotesquely swollen body glistens with sweat from the exertion (it’s hard work moving that much mass), filling the screen through which I watched him. He is monstrous. He is beautiful. His face - which looks comically small and awkwardly placed atop his body - is the sole remaining physical hint of what he once was. Boyishly handsome, dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Even contorted in pleasure - as much mental as physical - he remains handsome. That face is all that’s left of the days when he was a mere 120lbs at 5’7”. Today, he tipped the scales at 287lbs. I gave him a smile, to show I was happy with how far he’d come. “You’ve grown into quite the big boy!” I comment. He thrusts and groans as he hears my compliment. Something in the chair breaks. His shoulders are too broad to fully fit in the screen, and with each stroke of his hand striations ripples across the deltoid heads. His arms are swollen with power, each the size of his head, with the intersections of the deltoids and biceps etched in stone. My mouth salivates at the sight of them. Below the pec shelf, so heavy it sags, comes his rock-hard abdomen, with eight thick abdominal blocks carved in splendid relief, as if my a master sculptor. Framing his engorged manhood are splayed quads thicker than my waist (by several inches), the hugely overdeveloped heads of muscle flexing slightly with each buck of his hips. Between his moans - and dreams of being so much bigger - he manages to whisper: “More...please, more…” I cock my head teasingly, pretending not to have heard him. In truth, though, his question has deeply affected me. Tears almost come to my eyes. I can’t help but admire the hundreds of pounds of perfect, beautifully overgrown muscle desperately fighting for space on his tortured body. He has pushed it hard, punishingly so...but it did the only thing it could do: balloon, and balloon, and balloon, with muscle. He can easily go further. How much further? I don’t know. But we both want to find out. Poor boy. So desperate, and oh so so hungry. He’s gone so far. “Please!” he pleads, he begs, between frantic thrusts. His eyes crying out to me. “Make me bigger!” It’s curious. He knows he’s a freak, a monster. And yet, he doesn’t. He sees the great mountains of muscle he has grown, but doesn’t quite comprehend them. He never thought he could come so far, but he cannot imagine stopping now. It’s a vicious - or perhaps virtuous, depending on your viewpoint - cycle. Growth simply spurs the desire - the need - for more. A feedback loop of transitory pleasure. Each fix sets the stage for the next. It does not end. But that is what makes it oh so glorious. I smile again, a tear flowing this time. Such a beautiful, eager boy. He is a wonder to behold. “I think that can be arranged,” I reply. He explodes.
  9. Chapter One "The Oregon Trail was laid by fur traders and trappers from about 1811 to 1840, and was only passable on foot or by horseback. By 1836, when the first migrant wagon train was organized in Independence, Missouri, a wagon trail had been cleared to Fort Hall, Idaho" As the legendary guide Kit Carson looked up at the folks gathered around him, he added "This is the second stage of what I believe can be truly called "The Great Wagon Train" but you saw what we had to deal with just then, that is why we must carry on" and with that nodded his head to his trusted lieutenant Jim who nodded his understanding and reported back to his wife at the back of the train with the news that she had been dreading to hear. “But Jim” protested his wife as she nursed her infant son, “he needs a rest from the jolting. He needs some soup!” Jim solemnly shook his head. “Sorry, Alice” he replied, “but Kit says no. Look, he’s asleep now. You can have a sleep yourself. When you wake up we’ll be nearer to California and he’ll be still by your side!” and with that he leaned over on his horse and kissed his wife. Reassured, she settled down and her husband re-joined the front of the train. As the train rolled on, a violent jolt woke up the child and as he yawned he caught sight of his still sleeping mother. Rolling over and crawling to the back of the wagon, he sat down and smiled. “Daddy, bang, bang, nice!” he gurgled He had seen his father use the rifle latched onto the end of the wagon on a number of occasions and had always wanted to touch it, but his father always said “Daddy’s bang bang”, however with his father nowhere to be seen and his mother asleep he leant over to touch it. Just then, the wagon hit a rock and caused the son to overbalance and he fell out of the wagon and landed with a heavy bump that caused him to start crying. Whether the mother heard those cries it was impossible to tell, as soon the child became lost in the high grass. About an hour later, the small child appeared out of the brush that marked the start of the Midwestern Plains and was spied upon by Chief Grey Cloud, the most powerful of all the Native American chiefs. The little child had been taught to fear the native Americans, however as he looked at the chief whispering "Mommy and Daddy lost", the chief dismounted from his horse and looked at the child then spoke to his braves in the language of the Apache people. “Comanche smoke signals, wagon train attacked not far from here!” “Then papoose orphan!”. Grey Cloud felt a great sympathy with this orphaned child. It had been two months since his own son had been killed in a hunting accident whilst out hunting buffalo and it had shaken his confidence greatly. As he looked at the child who smiled for the first time since they had met, he raised an arm to the sky and announced “I thank the Great Spirit for sending me this child, I promise to raise him as my own!” “Grey Cloud has spoken” answered the other braves and with that Grey Cloud placed the child next to him and geed his horse to return to his tribe. The chief’s arrival with the new member of the tribe was greeted with a great deal of interest and after an inspection by the medicine man who determined that the child was indeed an orphan, he was formally adopted by Grey Cloud and given the Indian name “Blue Eyes” on account of his piercing blue eyes.
  10. MadDog

    m/m Spice

    Hey everyone, on the old forums I had begun posting a series I had written with my writing partner Mr. X (another forum member who preferred to be left anonymous) about a mysterious and fantastic spice that had the power to dramatically grow a person's muscles as well as their endowment. We had written considerably more than what had originally been posted, but it wasn't in publishable shape and I had lost motivation to continue editing it after losing contact with Mr. X. I've recently been motivated to continue posting "new" additions to the story and so I'm creating this topic to serve as a place for me to post all of them. There's wayyyy too many chapters for me to attempt to post all of them here again one by one, so I'll link to the collection of them at Metabods here. I'll be posting new chapters both here and at Metabods in the future. I hope that people enjoy what's to come and that maybe a new set of eyes will discover this delightful modern fantasy!
  11. TonnyGiant

    m/m Magic cookie

    After an agonizing day at work, Joshua was finally home. As soon as he walked through the door of his apartment in the city, he found his boyfriend taking up all the space in the room and his now huge feet obliterated the kitchen walls. The apartment was getting tiny in the face of the massive muscle mass of her boyfriend Tomy. Hesitantly, Joshua approached her boyfriend's huge, massive thigh. With shaking hands, he touched the hot skin and felt the firmness of the massive flesh. "Jesus Christ, what happened to you Tomy?" The giant tilted his head, which was already tilted so as not to smash the ceiling, and looked at his little boyfriend. "I think I grew a little, Baby" He showed it to little Joshua and a packet containing two white cream-filled cookies. “WHEN I EAT A COOKIE I BEGAN TO INCREASE MY MUSCLES, AND THEN I EAT THE SECOND AND NOW I'M HIGHER ... LET'S GO, BABY. EAT ONE OF THESE AND GROW TOGETHER WITH ME! ”He thundered and the apartment walls vibrated, knocking the shelves to the floor. Without thinking twice, because he loved his boyfriend deeply, Joshua ate the first cookie and soon his muscles were so large that his clothes turned to lint in a matter of seconds. Joshua roared, let out a thunderous belch, and then ate the second magic cookie. Minutes later, Joshua and Tomy became muscular gods who had no intention of stopping growth. They were now extra, mega, titanic. The city was at the mercy of the two muscular giants, one with hairy chest and one smooth, and both beautiful. “I NEED A KISS, MY GREAT BABY” Joshua thundered pulling Tomy's head “FUCK, MY WELL! SO ALL THE SHIT HUMANS SMALL WITNESSED OUR LOVE STORY ”Tomy replied with an evil smile on his face and kissed his gigantic boyfriend. “WE CAN FUCK THE WHOLE CITY, WE CAN DO ANYTHING, BABY” they laughed and the city structures shook, trembled. Some buildings crumbled like wet toilet paper only with the impact of the sole of the titans' giant feet. The skyscrapers didn't reach the toes of the giants in love. It was a matter of seconds until that city disappeared from the map altogether. And then, what would be the fate of the world?
  12. hello, I start a new story, you incarnate me who meets the celebrities (star, actor film, wrestler etc), he may have violence, your opinion allows me to know if the story pleases you main character me: quantin 30 years you were a fan of muscular man with fetish but too shy to approach, you managed to be hired as a celebrity helper so your role and help celebrities like to bring them to drink and ate my too to help them to get dressed (so you can see them all naked) and to perform all the tasks that he asks. you have just received the power to change the size and musculature to celebrities, but it has a side effect is that celebrities become tyrants mostly on you and become uncontrollable so that their change may change as you did not want and he has not written how long this change lasts. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________ chapter 1: the meeting of the first star this was your first day of work and you're already meeting a star that you love because it was tom welling, you'll meet him after shooting smallville he just finished a fight so he was sweaty and your first spot was to help him removed all those dirty clothes. You follow all the shows where Tom appears, because you love him so that he is the first person you have to help was great and you can even touch him and even as he looks not sniff these clothes, you arrive in a huge room then you come face to face with your idol tom said "hello, what can I do for you, I think you want an autograph" a little red you say "Hello, I'm your new celebrity help, have my request to come help you take off your outfit to bring them to the cleaning my also to help you before bringing them "tom looks at you from top to bottom then says" okay go in between, in the more you fall well my clothes feel too bad since I sweat too much and bother me "and you start to help him undress, you could feel his warmth as a man, tom turns around for you to help him get off her pants and you could see her boxers who molds a nice ass tonic my after you were existed because he asks you to remove his underpants too and you see his beautiful tonic ass naked then he turns around and you were in shock you could not remove your eyes from his beautiful body and you see a moment what wakes you up his penis that was huge then tom said "you can wait for me there I'm going to take a shower" while he was showering you could not wait and you take his underpants and starts sniffing you do the same with the other clothes and you sniff even where he had those muscles you were so ecstatic that you do not notice that you activated your power, you hear a big boom and tom shout what makes you see what happens, tom was sitting on the floor he just fell, because he was not even going back in the shower but in front of you you see huge and very big tom, then tom looks at you with a demonic look because tom see that he can not enter the shower.
  13. OK so, for the first continuous story on this brand new forum, and as I'm cripplingly ill right now, I figured why not use that to my advantage and give myself something to bone up about when I'm busy struggling through this terrible bout of pneumonia right? SO the setup? Just like it sounds, a flu that starts out with basic cold symptoms and goes on in men to produce intense growth spurts, the exact nature and speed of which depends totally on the victim! The astute observer will note this is drawing some inspiration from the fantastic Ingrewenza story on CF, however, I figured this would truly be the best place to start a story like this, because as this is a breathing growing living community we could get different growth stories from across the fucking GLOBE to enjoy all thanks to this terrible pandemic! No growth limits whatsoever, any male character can grow, and grow IMMENSE. You can add new characters whenever you want, you can even divert the story however you'd like, honestly see this as your own means of exploring this alternate universe and enjoying some GROWTH. So without further adieu I'll start us off to get this thing started! I kinda picture this as like a documentary movie, almost by Michael Bay! Northern Ontario Canada 04/20/14 Will sat, his muscles aching and fevered as he tried to lay back on his couch, the phone going off as he sat up with an annoyed sigh. He sat up, wincing as his core muscles flexed and tensed "Yes, yeah, this is Will, no, no I can't come in today, I already called, too sick." "Yeah, I'd heard there was something going around, ok, it's best you stay home then, I'm not sure what we're going to do but I guess I can try and call someone in" his supervisor chided and scolded him like an errant child, always his least favourite part of calling in sick, which is why he did it so infrequently but right now he could barely MOVE nevermind pull an entire 10hour shift. Struggling to make it to the shower, still coughing and tensing, at 6ft tall and 220lbs, moving around felt like it took a monumental effort just to get his feet lifting off the ground for so much as a few seconds. Disrobing he stared at his hairy self in the mirror, flexing for himself but immediately regretting the decision as he started the shower up. His muscles feeling on FIRE with the slightest move, but the drowning rushing rain of hot water helped to sooth that ache. Out of earshot of the TV the news bulletin flashed with a worried female reporter behind her desk and a flushed faced male anchor struggling to maintain his composure. The woman talking quickly, and worriedly "The virus has reached pandemic levels at this point, with new cases being reported in Africa, Australia and the UK, as well as the originating cities of Toronto, and New York. Scientists remain baffled as to why it's so virulent, why it only affects men and why it seems to cause such an immediate response in muscular hypertrophy" She smiled worriedly to her co worker. "Symptoms start off very similar to the standard flu symptoms *COUGH* with high fever, and sweating, as well as *COUGH Uhhnn* coughs and muscle fatigue however UHhnnn" The male anchor paused, gripping the tabletop with his hands, the veins coursing up and down his thickening fingers as his wrist started to swell and snapping the expensive rolex as his sleeves started to slide up his lengthening arm There was chaos in the news room as people started to scramble to get out of the viruses harmful yet, clearly pleasurable reach! "Oh God! Robert!" she cried, not fearing the virus's ill effects as the camera tilted downward, no longer able to view his face as his pecs started to balloon out of his shirt, bulging, swelling and tearing with each panting breath! the fabric splitting as the flimsy metal table top was being bowed UP by repeated impacts, a meaty THACK THACK THUD as his grunts got more and more guttural! "Ohhh GOD soo GOOD! The Ache! it...it's GONE!" he moaned "Ohh GOD Stacey it feels so GOOD" he moaned as table was finally ripped open, a big meaty something that the censors just barely managed to blur in time throbbing up the length of his now bare abs as his sleeves on his expensive suit shredded open! his pecs out of the frame now as he continued to grunt, his deepening voice growing more and more agitated as every muscle seemed to bulge and swell out of control! His hands were still rooted to the table, the hairy thick biceps, now bigger around than his coworkers head was a moment ago covered in such thick pulsing veins that seemed to stretch up and down his entire body as he let out a deep bellowing grunt! That massive censored bar ERUPTING with what looked like gallons of an equally pixelated substance blasting the camera off its track and allowing for a full view of the standing grunting beast! Clearly looking well past 8ft tall this muscle man was immense, every muscle flexing and throbbing with each heavy spurt out of his monumental cock! His pecs pressed up against his chin as his lats spread his arms up giving him a terrifying V shape! The censor bar covering most of his abs, but you could see from the sides, they were thick, swollen and covered in as much hair as his two immense pecs, each one about as big as a car door! His orgasmic shouts echoing those of every single man who had come down with the virus "Oh GOD I'm just so BIG! so FUCKING BIG!" The censors having given up on doing anything else, let that one slide, before cutting the feed entirely. Will walked back in, the feel of clothing on his body almost painful as he sat on his couch the shower not having done anything! just seeing a "Technical Difficulties" Logo up on the screen he let out another sigh and changed channels, feeling that same ache pulsing through his body even more violently than before the temporary relief of his shower!
  14. Synergy Sometimes you just know. It feels so deep and integral that is seems to come from the deepest part of you. You can feel it in your bones, radiating out to the skin. It is a truth that cannot be explained away. I felt this the first time I saw Ian. I was too young to know what it was at the time, but I knew he was special to me. I knew that he held in his equally small hands the key to happiness—or what I believed happiness to be at the time. Everyone loved Ian. He was handsome and athletic and social. He was friendly and kind. One night, when we were in fifth grade, I spend the night at Ian’s house. He hadn’t asked me to spend the night before, but we had become better friends. I remember walking downstairs to the basement and getting sleeping bags out, lying next to him, feeling his warmth just inches away. I don’t know why I did it, but I looked over to him in the dark. “Hey Ian…We should pretend that I am Sarah. You like Sarah, right?” “What do you mean, ‘pretend you are Sarah?’ That’s silly, Brad.” “I mean, I can lay on top of you and we can kiss. You can practice on me. You want to kiss her. You said so earlier.” “OK, but we can’t tell anyone about it.” That was the first time I knew that something was “wrong” about the way I felt. I crawled on top of Ian’s body, opened my mouth, and kissed him deeply, albeit clumsily. He was my first kiss. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I felt so attached to him. We never spoke of that moment the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. We continued to become closer and closer. He was everything to me, even at that age. I felt something deep and powerful inside my young mind and body. Ian did something for me that no one else had ever done…He made me feel beautiful and handsome. He made me feel popular. I was still the new kid but when Ian and I started hanging out, everyone accepted me. He made me feel wanted. He was amazing, even at that age. Weeks later, my parents sat us down for a family meeting. We moved around a lot when I was young. From what I had heard during closed-door phone calls, my dad was getting a job, hours away from Spokane where we lived at the time. I wasn’t sure at that moment, but when my parent’s called a family meeting, I knew it was time to move again. I was heartbroken. Not only because I now had some great friends, but because I couldn’t imagine leaving Ian. We played soccer together. We rode our bikes around the neighborhood together. We went swimming together. He was all I thought about and everything I wanted. I couldn’t bear to think about moving away from him. He was my first kiss. He was also my first heartbreak, although looking back, I don’t think that he knew it. He didn’t have the awareness that I did at that age. He didn’t know how I felt, not really. The day we moved, I remember grey skies and a light rain. The U-Haul truck waited in the driveway. Ian had promised me he would come and say goodbye but we were ready to leave and he hadn’t come to the house yet. I felt like my heart would break right there in the driveway. I would never see him again. Something inside of me cried out for him. I felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind—God, if I could only just say goodbye. The grass was still brown from a cold winter with plenty of snow. Spring’s warmth had not touched down yet and from the grey sky, it would remain that way for a while. I remember looking at the silent, sleeping, brown-matted grass and thinking that it looked like how I felt—sickly, on the brink of life, hungry for a better day, desiring of warmth, cognizant of a great change—afraid. I tried to postpone our departure. I said I had to use the restroom. I said I needed to spend a minute in my room. I wanted to walk around the backyard again—the backyard where Ian and I had spent so many hours talking and playing—and so many nights sleeping under the stars in our sleeping bags. I loved him and I couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t see him again. As my mom locked the front door to the split-entry house and we walked outside toward my waiting father and the truck full of our belongings, I saw a quick flash of shadow coming around the corner of the street. It was Ian. His legs were pumping on the peddles of his BMX bike and he was sweating and breathless—I could tell—and that was saying something. He was such a great athlete, even at that age. He must have been riding as fast as he could for the several blocks that separated our houses. I breathed a sigh of relief—and then sorrow crashed into me. Suddenly, I didn’t know if it was the best thing for him to have come. It would only make things harder. “Brad, here comes Ian! I know you wanted to say goodbye to him. I need to go talk to your dad but I’ll be in the car in a minute. We need to leave in a couple of minutes, so say goodbye. Do you want to ride with your father or do you want to come behind in the car with me?” I couldn’t even think about what my mom was saying. Did I want to ride in the truck or the car? I didn’t care. Only Ian mattered. When I saw him lay his bike down on the grass and walk quickly toward me, I could only think of him. My mom went to talk to my dad. Ian grabbed my hand and led me around to the back of the truck. “Sorry. I was grocery shopping with my mom and we were late. I tried to make her get home faster.” He was still out of breath. He wore the scent of his home. I could smell it. It smelled like Ian. I can still remember that smell—like summery detergent, fabric softener, and something spicy…like cloves and baked apples. His smell was warm and clean. Writing this down, I can still smell it years later. He leaned over to me quickly and gave me a kiss on the lips. I knew he was taking a risk…he had told me months ago that we were never supposed to talk about that night…so in that moment, I knew he felt something for me as well. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t respond for a moment. “I’ll miss you, Ian.” A tear edged its way out of the corner of my eye and slowly fell down my cheek. “Don’t cry. I’ll always be with you. I promise.” Somehow, I knew he was telling the truth. I felt something inside of me leap out for him, but the emotion that the empty space was replaced by was loneliness and sadness. He was right in front of me, but I still felt destroyed because I understood that we were going to be apart forever. “Goodbye, Brad. We should write to each other.” His voice cracked. We were so young and innocent. Pure. We loved each other and it was that simple. We weren’t old enough to be jaded by life. We weren’t old enough to be filled with trepidation or caution because of poor decisions. We were just friends—friends who loved each other deeply. “Brad! We need to go. Its already an hour after when we wanted to leave. Come and get in the car,” I heard my mom bellow. “See you, Ian.” “Write to me when you get to your new house.” I jumped in the car and looked out the window. It was slightly fogged from the weather. It began to rain harder. The last thing I remember about that day was Ian standing on our lawn, his BMX bicycle tipped over next to him, waving as we drove away. ================================================================================== The rest of my elementary school life was a nightmare. I was thin, short, and out of shape. I had thick glasses and was “smart” so the cool kids didn’t want to really get to know me. I thought of Ian often when no one would play with me. Eventually, the most popular kid on our sixth-grade class befriended me. He was tall and blonde. His father was a doctor and they lived in a beautiful house on the crest of a hill overlooking the town. I was glad he became my friend. Everyone seemed to like me after he started talking to me. I didn’t feel the same way about him as I did about Ian, but he was nice and I made some friends because of him. Ian and I wrote to each other a few times. Eventually, we stopped. I don’t know who sent the last letter, or who didn’t respond, but I do remember feeling some blunted and distant sorrow about that loss. But one thing I knew—that beautiful handsome boy would ALWAYS be my first kiss. And I would ALWAYS be his. That gave me some satisfaction. ================================================================================== Junior high started the next year. It was a huge transition. The elementary schools combined and so there were hundreds of new kids. Social life was turned on its head. I went to sit with my friends from elementary school at lunch. The popular kids had somehow found each other automatically. The cool kids I had become friends with in my last year of elementary school had gravitated toward a group of other good-looking kids. I approached John, the coolest guy in my class last year who had befriended me. I had never seen the girl sitting next to him, nor can I remember what she looked like or who she was. Sometimes it is easiest to block things out that are painful. “Hey John. Is this where we are sitting?” I asked when I walked up to the long cafeteria table. John didn’t look at me, not really. He just kept talking to the people around him. The little shrew-faced girl sitting next to him looked up at me standing next to them as they were seated. With a smug look she gave me a once over, looking at my unremarkable face, my thick glasses, beginnings of acne, and unremarkable body. I was short, even for that age. I wasn’t dressed like most of the cool kids. My parents didn’t have much money although we never lacked anything we really needed. We just couldn’t afford the name brands and current styles that the cool kids could. After inspecting me carefully, the girl looked me straight in the eye and proclaimed me unworthy. “This table is for the popular kids. Go somewhere else.” In that instant, something inside of me changed, and not for the better. I felt alone. I felt like I had lost something of great value – I had lost my friends from last year. From that moment on, when the lunch bell rang, I either sat in the hallway waiting for the lunch period to be over and not eating anything, or if I was especially hungry that day, I would take my brown bag lunch, walk into the boys’ restroom, close the door to a stall, sit on a lidded toilet, and eat my lunch there. It was disgusting, I know, but I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I knew everyone and they knew me, but I didn’t belong to any group or have any real friends. It was terrible. My parents didn’t know of my isolation. No one really knew. I faked it well. But, it was destroying my self-confidence and self worth. One morning, I woke up and felt sore from head to toe. It wasn’t the soreness that comes from a solid run or a little overexertion. It was the kind of soreness that made me feel like my body was growing into the mattress. I could barely move. I had never felt like that before. It was painful but it also felt supremely…good. It was a foreign feeling. I only wanted to lay in bed. I wracked my mind trying to think about what could have made me feel that way. I didn’t play sports and I hadn’t had gym class the day before. Every muscle in my body felt like it had been put through some sort of top-level military exercise. I couldn’t explain it, so I didn’t try. When I got to school, I moved slowly through the hall. Picking up my legs was a struggle. God, so much pain was wracking my body. The thought of sitting in a chair for first period was the only thing that kept me going. I shuffled through the hall. I heard some laughter, most likely because there was wincing on my face. I tried to blend in to the surroundings. It is how I learned to survive; however, the dull pain radiating from my muscles forced a certain scowl to be permanently etched onto my face. Fuck. I was almost to my first course of the day. I turned around the corner in the wide hallway hugging the wall and leaning a bit on it for support. Just then, John, my previous friend from elementary school ran into me, head-on. “Sorry, Brad.” He looked at me with some degree of pity. I think he knew he had been an ass hole and was feeling sorry about the social pariah that I had become. He was partially responsible for that and I know he knew it to some degree. At that moment though, all I could think about was the sharp pain that I felt as his body collided with mine. The rest of junior high was spent cowering away from people. The days of soreness came and went for years. I couldn’t really explain them, nor could I escape them. I would often feel the same way a day or two after my gym class, but that was only once a week and my bouts of full-body soreness occurred much more frequently than that. One thing that I did excel at was music. I joined the high school jazz band when I moved up to 10th grade. I was good. I played the piano and could make the most jaded person feel alive when I sat down at the keyboard. It was a gift. Our school was known for the music program and a lot of the cool kids were in band actually. The teacher was amazing, energetic, and fun. We traveled around the state putting on concerts for communities and other schools. It was the highlight of my high school career up to that point. When I was a senior, we were invited to perform at a Washington state high school leadership camp at Central Washington University in Ellensburg. It was scheduled on the day of my 18th birthday. CWU wasn’t too far away, but it was a reason to be gone from high school and my tormented existence there for a day so I was very excited. I woke up on the morning before we left, more sore and exhausted than I ever had been. I was in so much pain; I almost started crying when attempting to get out of bed. I didn’t want to eat as was typical when I felt this way. I just wanted to lay in bed, motionless, without apology. My parents had been becoming increasingly worried. Something that they thought was probably just growing pains had now been occurring for the better part of 6 years…and I hadn’t been growing much. I was around 5’4” and thin. Most of the latter part of that equation was because of my lack of desire to eat when I felt the soreness. It was becoming more and more frequent that I would have these bad days. The doctors didn’t know what was causing it and that was not for a lack of trying to figure it out. They did all sorts of tests. I was supposedly healthy outside if a bit of malnutrition. Anyway, Jazz Band was planning on going to this leadership conference the next day. I wasn’t going to miss it. It would be the best birthday present I could have--I enjoyed getting out and exploring other places. It reminded me that there was a life outside of the walls of my high school. I knew that if I could make it to graduation, things would be OK. I was thinking of going to CWU anyway, so I could check it out while I was there. I forced myself out of bed, showered, got dressed, and made it to school just on time- without eating of course. I knew I should really start eating more. The day went well for the most part. I ate in the bathroom stall again, which was becoming more and more common for me to do. I avoided talking to people and therefore, avoided being made fun of or pushed around. Fuck, I was short AND skinny. That is a troublesome combination for an 18-year-old band geek. I walked home alone. It was only a couple of blocks so there was not use in driving. I was in a good mood however. Tomorrow was another band trip and my birthday. I ate a few bites at dinner, crawled into bed, and wished for a quick sleep. The next morning, we left for Ellensburg. The air was clear and crisp as often happens in the late spring. This would be our last trip of the school year and the last trip of my high school career. We arrived at the university and started setting up in a huge ornate auditorium. Red velvet curtains crossed the stage with long braded golden ropes hanging from the corners. Huge soaring columns lined the sides of the auditorium and hundreds of soft seats curve out in dozens of rows facing the stage. It was a beautiful building. We got things prepared and just in time. The participants from other high schools around the state started filtering just as we completed our sound check. The concert began. I was brilliant as usual. But I didn’t consider myself to be anything special, regardless of the talent I obviously had. The concert ended and I was a bit sad. The one thing in my life that I cared about, the one thing I was good at, was almost over. I loved the applause of the audience. It was one good thing in my life. I made my way out of the auditorium after we were finished. I was helping the others pack up their instruments in the back alley behind the building. I felt a shock of surprise for some reason. I didn’t know why, but the air seemed to change somehow. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I got goose bumps all over my arms. “Hey. Is your name Brad?” I heard a deep powerful rumbling voice ask from a few feet behind me. It sounded like silk and thunder. I turned around and one of the most stunning men I have ever seen was staring at me with a quizzical look. He smiled and my heart exploded. He was about my age but phenomenally more muscular. He looked to be about 6’ tall, had smooth tan skin unadulterated by acne. His hair was short and with a slight curl. Damn. He was beautiful. “Ya. I’m Brad.” I didn’t know what else to say. Who the fuck was this Adonis? His tight t-shirt hugged his body and was a size too small. The fabric stretched begrudgingly over his bloated pecs, pulling tight especially across his cleavage. Two gumdrop sized nipples stuck out against a shirt that had no recourse from the power contained underneath it. The sleeves were a bit to short but that only served to accentuate the planets of delts perched above the god’s arms. Biceps dangled happily from the shoulders and were hugged on each side by a very prominent vein. His forearms looked like Popeye-come-to-life but were decorated with an intricate web of vasculature. I never thought veins to be especially attractive, but his were somehow…graceful. I couldn’t take my eyes away from his steely grey eyes. They knew something I did not. I could tell he was now smiling mischievously. I broke my gaze and looked away for a moment. I pushed the bridge of my glasses up my nose. Some of the girls were staring, slack-jawed, at the perfect specimen that was staring at me. Some of the other guys were similarly in awe. Others looked disgusted, but only out of jealousy. This was a god, and everyone knew it. “Brad! I can’t believe it is you!” The god looked like he was getting excited and was happy about something. I couldn’t think of what it could be. It made me a bit nervous—and aroused. His muscles expanded and contracted. He didn’t take his eyes off of me but had this galactic grin across his face. He took a step toward me and I just looked up, wondering who this was and what he could possibly want with me. He took another step, bent down slightly and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s Ian! From elementary school. I heard your name when they were introducing you all in there and I thought it must be you.” It was Ian. The best friend I ever had. My first kiss. His first kiss. “IAN!” I gasped. He lifted me up easily, his hands under my arms, until I was eye to eye with him. It should have felt demeaning to have someone pick me up like a small child, but it didn’t. It felt safe. “Brad, I can’t believe it man. I just can’t believe it. What are the odds of us meeting here after all this time?” I couldn’t speak. My mind was racing and my cock was beginning to respond to this beautiful man’s voice. This was my best friend. This was my best friend! Instantly, I didn’t feel alone anymore. I heard a couple of gasps from my fellow band-mates. I could tell they were stunned that I knew who this muscle stud was and that he was giving me a hug. Ian set me down on my feet again. My eyes traveled up from his pecs to his eyes. I couldn’t help but noticed, however, that his too-small shirt left an inch gap between the top of his tight jeans and the bottom hem of his t-shirt. I could make out the silky skin underneath and a very pronounced happy trail of hair running from what must be his abs down to his manhood. I was about to explode. My cock twitched in my pants. His eyes were glowing and his smile could knock satellites out of orbit if he grinned in the right direction. Fuck. He was perfect. “Ian, we have to go!” I heard a middle-aged voice call out in the distance. “We have to leave now!” “Hey Brad. We need to catch up. I should give you my number. I graduate high school next week and will have a few weeks off before I come here for football training camp this summer. I can come visit you if you want. I just can’t believe that I finally reconnected with you!” “That…That would be…great, Ian.” The god looked around for a pen or something so he could write his number down. A stunned girl (a homely overweight saxophonist) meekly handed him a pen, smiling, blushing. “Thank you,” he rumbled and smiled looking her directly in the eye. He was kind. “You are coming here next year? I am as well.” I stuttered out the information. “Ya, I am! This will be so great! Brad, you have to call me. I’ll come visit in the next few weeks. I can drive over from Spokane. It’s only a few hours. I am so happy to see you! I miss you.” There was a look of caution and care in his eyes. He almost looked sad. It looked like pity. I couldn’t speak but just nodded in agreement. He flashed a smile and winked with his left eye. “Call me, Brad… Please. We have a lot to catch up on.” Another smile flashed across his face and he turned around to walk toward his teacher. The wind had been knocked out of my sails. I could barely breath as I watched him walk away. His back would make his chest jealous. Thick pillars of muscle ran along his spine. A topographical map lay under his tight shirt. And his round tight ass… that is what my eyes focused on. Powerful, tight, hard, sexy-as-fuck. I wanted to bury my face in between those muscle cakes and feed on his undoubtedly perfect hole. I couldn’t stop staring. Just before he turned around the corner with his school group, he looked back at me, flashed that smile, and winked again. It was silent for a moment. Everyone around me was stunned. They looked at me like I was an alien, like they had just barely noticed a new life form in their midst. “You know that guy?” I heard spoken to me a dozen times in the next few minutes. I didn’t respond for a few moments. I found that collecting my thoughts in that moment was almost impossible. John, my elementary school friend who hadn’t given me the time of day for years, and the drummer of our jazz band, approached me quickly. “Who was that?” he demanded. He sounded almost—jealous. There is little I remember about what happened after that, but I stood up straighter in that moment and looked around at the faces torn between trying to catch another glimpse of Ian or watching me like some strange insect. “He is my best friend.” I said it simply. Everyone went back to work, packing up for our trip home. Every once in a while, I would see someone glance at me and just shake their head. I didn’t know if it was jealousy or incredulity…maybe it was a bit of both. Which ever it was, that moment was the best of any birthday I had ever had. The next day I woke up and was sore again. I was in pain more than I wasn’t these days. I could barely get out of bed but I had to try. Something about what happened with Ian the previous day echoed in my mind. He was the handsomest, most masculine, gorgeous man that I had ever seen…and he wanted to come visit for a few days and “catch up” on life. I pinched myself repeatedly. Holy shit. School wrapped up for the year largely without incident. I called Ian a couple of times over the course of a few weeks and we set up for him to come and visit for several days before he headed to his summer football program. I couldn’t believe that that muscle stud would be under my roof, sleeping in my room, for 3 or 4 days. I don’t know if I could control myself. Every time I thought about it, I got hard…like raging hard. My cock was becoming quite talented at producing sweet honey-like precum at even the most passing of thoughts about Ian. How would my humble cock and balls handle having that meat monster around for days on end? The day finally came. It was perfectly sunny outside and warm. Ian pulled into our driveway in a late model Jeep Wrangler. It fit his ruggedness and personality perfectly. I watched out the window as he grabbed a t-shirt from the back seat and pulled it over his bare chest. He had been shirtless and now was trying to be presentable for meeting my parents again. I wish he would have just left that god-damned shirt off and walked up to the front door in all of his magnificence. Even just looking out the window at him pulling his shirt over his head, I was ready to pump out a huge load. This could be trouble. I heard the doorbell downstairs and a shuffling from the kitchen. “Brad!!! That must be Ian!” I head my mother yell. She was going to answer the door, thankfully. I was still a bit hard from watching Ian’s bare chest pull into the drive. I wanted to suck on his nipples, chewing them, grabbing his huge hard ass, tongue his tight pink love hole. These images flashed through my mind in the course of one second. Fuck. My. Life. I heard the low rumble of Ian’s voice in the entry way and then I heard my mom start laughing. He was a charmer that is for sure. I made my way downstairs slowly…I didn’t want to cum spontaneously in my pants before I even got downstairs. “IAN! You made it.” I could hardly contain my excitement. I still couldn’t believe that this perfectly handsome muscle beast would be within arms reach of me for days on end. I was suddenly apprehensive. Would he find me watching him, lusting after him, tenting my shorts every time he looked at me. He seemed so nice, but maybe he would beat my ass if he found out. “Let’s get you settled in my room. Then we can decide what we are going to do the rest of the day, OK?” “Sure, Brad. I do need to go find a gym today so I can get a good workout in, but I saw a few coming into town. Other than that, I am completely free. I just want to be sure I stay in top shape for football camp this weekend.” I nodded in agreement. Some inner part of me wanted to be sure that Ian invited me to go workout with him, even though I hadn’t lifted a weight in my life. He grabbed his duffle bag in one arm and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “Lead the way, Brad,” he shot another smile at me with one of those devious winks. He would be trouble, I could feel it. “Straight up the stairs,” I said. He started climbing the stairs, his round hard ass-globes propelling his rippling beefy body up to my room. I was following him only a step behind. My face was only an inch away from his muscular ass globes and that tight, warm hole and I could smell his exquisite man scent reaching out to me like a mythological siren. I wanted to bury my tongue in the crevasse of his perky powerful caboose. I wanted to probe his fuck hole with my tongue until I made him scream. I couldn’t believe I was having these thoughts, but I was. It was as if he was sending me the message through his pheromones. I could smell him. I could smell his need. We reached my room, he threw his duffle bag on the ground, smiled at me, and got a dirty look on his face. Once again, he knew something I didn’t. “You mind if I change? I want to get my gym clothes on before I go find a place to workout.” “I don’t mind at all. I’ll just give you a few minutes to get ready.” I stared up at Ian, his pulsating muscles writhing under his tight clothes. “Brad, I’d prefer if you stayed.” He leveled me with another sly smile. “We can start catching up as I get ready.” He offered that last bit as insurance in case I didn’t accept the direction of his comments. How could I not. He was 6 foot and over 200 pounds of solid marble strength. I was just pushing 5’ 4” and struggled to break 110 pounds on a good day. I was pathetic comparatively. “Sure. Let’s catch up, Ian.” I sat on the edge of the bed as Ian rifled through his clothes looking for something he could wear to the gym. “Do you have any protein powder, Brad? I should probably make a shake before heading to the gym. I have some in the Jeep I can give you later in exchange.” I couldn’t stifle my laughter. “Seriously Ian. Do I look like I use protein powder? I am about as big as one of those thick thighs of yours.” Ian stopped changing and just looked at me—like he shouldn’t have asked the question. I wanted to look him in the eye, but I could only look at the beautifully tanned skin of the man before me. He had taken off all of his clothes except his briefs. I could see his bulge threatening to stretch the limits of its cage…and he wasn’t even hard. His body was so beautiful and thick. I could spend hours trying to describe it, but it would do no good. My eyes tracked down from his shoulders to his pecs. They traced his arms and switched over to his insane abs. Were abs supposed to have a netting of veins? I hadn’t ever seen that. My eyes came to rest on his waistline. His Apollo’s belt (or what I liked to call, the cum gutters) focused my eyes on the trail of hair extending from just above his navel downward where they plunged into his intensely white and tight briefs. I let out a soft moan and then… I spontaneously ejaculated. Fear coursed across my face and I felt like I was going to pass out, my body trembling from the orgasm as well as the embarrassment. My eyes started to flutter as I felt the world around me getting dark. I could tell I was going to pass out, my legs giving out underneath me. I faintly remember Ian’s beautiful muscled powerful body stepping toward me quickly with arms out. I felt them wrap around me. Then I felt myself faint. I was lying down on the bed naked. I looked over and saw Ian rifling through my dresser…shit. I had my muscle magazines in there. I mean, online pics and videos were OK, but sometimes having those pictures right in front – a magazine in one and my cock in the other – that was perfect. He grabbed a couple of items and turned around just in time to see me looking over at him. “You OK, Brad? I got you undressed and cleaned up. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to worry your parents about you passing out since I think I know why you did.” He could see the terror in my eyes, I am sure of it. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. It happens sometimes.” “People spontaneously dumping cum in their pants when they look at you? That happens ‘sometimes’? Fuck that man!” For some reason, it came out in an angry voice. I felt my cheeks turn red. Was I jealous that others had seen Ian, my best friend, and had instant orgasms? Fuck yes. I was a little jealous. I was jealous that others had that reaction and I was even more jealous that he was so goddamn perfect. My life had sucked beyond words since I moved away from him…I ate my lunch almost every day in the school bathroom for fuck’s sake just to survive! And here he was, a god among men, smiling and friendly, and… and fuck him! “Ya. It happens sometimes.” He looked embarrassed now and slightly ashamed, like he had done something wrong. I felt like shit. He couldn’t help how fucking gorgeous he was with his thick cords and bulges, his perfect skin that any cosmetics company would want to know the secret too, his piercing steely eyes, his perfect body hair…it wasn’t his fault and I had just blamed him and made him feel ashamed of himself. I looked away. It was my turn to feel ashamed. He walked across the room toward me with some clean shorts and a tank top in his hand. He held them out to me with a look of concern on his face. He was worried about me and he was worried that I was angry with him. “Are you OK, Brad? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have undressed you and cleaned you up. I was just trying to help.” “Please don’t apologize Ian. It’s me, not you. I guess I am just a little overwhelmed by how different our lives seem to have gotten since I moved here all those years ago.” “How so? You know you can tell me anything, Brad. Anything. You are still the best friend I have ever had.” I reached out and grabbed the clothes from his outstretched huge arm, pulled the shorts on and put on the tank top. My thinness was on display. I sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to me in a gesture to invite him to sit down next to me. He took his spot on the bed and looked at me with so much compassion and concern in his eyes. I could barely speak. I started mumbling a few times, but couldn’t get out more than a few words without stopping. I wasn’t crying, I just didn’t know where to start. No one made me feel as comfortable as Ian and I had told no one about my horrible school experiences. He put is massive ripped arm around my small narrow shoulders. “Take your time, Brad. Just take your time.” I began telling him about elementary school, about my friends there and how they abandoned me in junior high. I told him about the meanness that I encountered because of my small size. I told him about being gay. He just left his arm around my shoulders and looked at my face. I couldn’t even make eye contact with him, but I knew he was paying attention to every word I was saying. About halfway through my story, he pulled me in tighter, right into the space between his bicep and his overdeveloped chest. I felt safe, finally. Eventually, I told him about how I thought I must be sick with some weird disease. I would have almost debilitating muscle soreness and no one knew why. He just listened and didn’t say a word for over an hour, all the while holding me in the muscled pocket of his hard armpit. At the end of the story, he gave me a squeeze. “So you see, our lives couldn’t be more different. If you want to leave after hearing about all of that, you can. It would be harder if you stayed and were weird about it.” “Nothing you have said makes me feel ‘weird’, Brad. Some things in our lives are maybe more similar than you would think.” That’s all he said at the moment so I left it at that. If he wanted to share some of his secrets with me, he would do so in his own time. I respected that. It just felt so good to have my best friend back. “You want to come to the gym with me? We could start you on a program to put some size on you, if you want.” “Ummmmm…maybe. I’ll go with you and see how I feel. It’s a bit intimidating--the gym.” We walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out to the Jeep. What a mismatched pair we were. But it didn’t matter. Arriving at one of the local muscle gyms, we walked in and were greeted at the front desk by fucking John. I didn’t know he worked there. Shit. “Hey, man. Could we get two visitor’s passes for the day? My buddy and I would like to get a workout in this afternoon.” John looked me directly in the eye. I couldn’t figure out what the look on his face meant, but it wasn’t friendly. “Sure. Just sign in here. It’s $5 for a visitor’s pass, but I’ll waive it for you,” John said looking at Ian. Ian signed his name and moved out of the way so I could sign in as well. I wrote down my name on the ledger. “That’ll be $5 for a visitor’s pass.” He looked at me with a smugness I was surprised at. I took out my wallet, embarrassed that Ian was getting a free pass and I had to pay. My face flushed red and I went into my billfold to grab the cash. Ian had been looking into the weight room and hadn’t seen the interaction between John and myself. He glanced back just as I was about to hand John my money. “Hey! Why are you making him pay?” There was a certain tone in Ian’s voice that made me believe that he was more than a little annoyed. “You didn’t make me pay. Why are you making him?” “Its OK, Ian,” I said quietly. “No, it isn’t. Fuck that. Why are you making him pay?” He reached into his own wallet and handed John a $10 bill. “That’s for both of us, asshole.” He put the money on the counter, his eyes boring into John’s. I was shell-shocked. Ian had just burned the most popular guy in our high school class. All I could think was, “We aren’t in high school anymore, John. You’re in a bigger pond with much bigger fish.” I kept that comment to myself. Ian looked down at me and simply said, “Let’s go, Brad.” We walked through the weight room into the locker room. The next hour of my life was insanely intense. Ian didn’t even workout much himself. He spent the entire time helping me learn different basic lifts. He coached me on form, on beginning routines, and we talked about nutrition. His workout time had turned into my personal training session. I was terrified that the next day I wouldn’t be able to move. I voiced my concern to Ian, since I had terrible muscle pain frequently. “Maybe you will, Brad. Maybe. But maybe not. I never have been sore after I lift.” “Not once?” “Never. And it’s not for lack of trying. I have tried to workout so hard that I couldn’t feel my legs or arms when I left the gym. But the next day, nothing. Not even a little ache. So, I guess it depends on how your body will deal with the lifting.” We left the gym after downing a couple of protein shakes that Ian had brought in his gym bag. Walking past the counter, John shot me a sharp look and then went on to stare at Ian’s massive frame walking along side of me. I couldn’t blame him. The rest of the evening, we just hung out at the house catching up on life, ate dinner with my parents, and settled in for a relaxing evening. My parent’s went to bed early so Ian and I stayed in the family room watching TV. It was so nice to feel that at ease with someone. I hadn’t had that feeling since the 5th grade. Ian kept looking at me though. I could tell he wanted to say something. A certain feeling of uncomfortability began to creep into the room. I could just feel it. The TV show ended and we just sat there in the room on the couch. “Ready for bed, Ian?” “Sure. Let’s go up to your room.” He smiled at me and led the way. He knew how much I liked staring at his ass. I am sure of it. I crawled into my big bed. He started blowing up the air mattress. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He had stripped down to a pair of red tight boxer briefs that showed the separation of his beautiful ass cheeks and left little to the imagination with regard to his apparently huge cock. I felt myself getting aroused again watching him inhale deeply, shoulders rising, pecs jutting out…and then exhaling into the mouth valve on the air mattress. It was the sexiest thing I had seen—ever. So much power in that thick hard body. And it was almost naked three feet away from me. “Whoa…I think I’m going to give it a rest for a minute. I’m getting light headed.” I just smiled. He smiled back. “You know, you could just sleep in my bed. It is a king size. I don’t take up much room, obviously.” He looked at me with a certain seriousness on his face. “Not if you feel uncomfortable though,” I quickly added. I didn’t want my gigantic friend to think I was hitting on him…not yet anyway. “Um…OK. But I have to sleep in the nude. I can’t sleep if I have clothes on.” My cock shot to attention again but I don’t think Ian noticed. “That’s fine…just don’t attack me in my sleep. I know you want to!” I jested with him, trying to diffuse the sexually tense situation happening in my mind. Ian stood up straight, put his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear and eased them down. I could see the elastic stretching thin as the band worked its way over his globular glutes. Fuck, they were big and round and hard. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He just stared at me. He worked his tight briefs off and down the huge quads of his and stood there in all of his 8”-soft glory. My breath caught in my throat. He just chuckled softly, reached down and grabbed the top sheet on the bed and worked his way under the covers. I could feel his heat radiating over to my much smaller, quivering body. I turned the light switch off next to the bed and the room fell into darkness. I was so tired—exhausted really. But at the same time, I didn’t want to miss out on the feeling of having this god of muscle only inches away from me…naked. NAKED. I could smell the clean scent of man rising from him. I could smell testosterone oozing from his pores. I could smell the singular scent of his clean hole calling to me. I wanted to bury my face in his ass crack and make him squeal as I rimmed him into ecstasy. I could taste him… My erection stiffened even more. I didn’t know it was possible. I let out a muffled moan and I saw his face turn toward me, only a few inches away. I reached onto the nightstand next to me and grabbed a wad of tissue paper and tried to sneak it under the covers. I was going to cum again. I felt my balls churning my seed. I thought I could cum and be quiet about it. I had the tissue paper ready to soak up my creamy emissions. Ian wasn’t asleep. I could tell by his breathing. But, I was being so careful. Maybe he didn’t know what I was doing. I could only hope. I couldn’t hold on much longer. I felt that trip switch that happens before the cum cannon begins to shoot: the point of no return. I could feel my inner parts start to pump their sticky juices in preparation for an epic explosion. I let out another stifled groan- trying to be as quiet as I could. I wrapped my hard throbbing cock in Kleenex and let myself cave into my more beastly nature. I felt my man juices rise through the canals inside of me, racing their way to freedom and into the receptiveness of my right hand. At the moment of climax, I heard a deep guttural breath come from Ian. The first volley of cum had shot out of my throbbing hot cock and I could feel the other ready for launch. Then I heard words that increased the power coursing through my body by one-hundred… “I’m gay too.” Ian had whispered the words at the moment of my orgasm. My body bucked and gyrated. I let out a growl that I was shocked could come from such a weak and thin body. Ian just chuckled and let me finish. “I just wanted you to know, and this seemed like the perfect time.” I was still reeling from the most powerful orgasm I had ever had as well as the knowledge that my fucking monster of a friend was naked, next to me, and gay himself. My head couldn’t handle it, but my body tried. My cock was drained, but it kept trying to spew more cum out. It was like dry heaves but for my cock…and it felt good. “Good night, Brad.” Ian rolled over on his side and fell into a deep sleep. His light snoring told me so. I lay there, sticky, hot, sweating…thunderstruck. I drifted off as well. I woke up early the next morning. Ian was still lying next to me, his skin touching mine lightly—our legs were touching. It felt amazing. I stretched, expecting to feel horrible pain and soreness from the intense workout the day before. I felt so energized and couldn’t even feel a slight ache. I was sure that I would be in a world of hurt. Ian stirred next to me and let out a low grumble. He sounded like a lion in pain. “Fuck, Brad. I can barely move. My whole body hurts. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” I sat up in bed and looked over at him, concerned. He looked at me as his eyes popped out of his head. “Holy shit, Brad. Look at your abs.” Go to page 5 for Part II.
  15. English version in here. UNO Mis padres siempre me educaron en la cultura del esfuerzo, por lo que a ninguno de mis amigos les sorprendió que a los veinticinco años me comprara mi departamento. Había trabajado mucho para conseguir la plata suficiente, haciendo horas extras, trabajando freelance los fines de semana y ahorrando todo lo que podía y gastando lo menos posible. Pedí un préstamo a un banco y eso fue todo. Me mudé apenas me dieron la llave y durante seis meses disfruté de la soledad y me relajé. Pasado ese tiempo decidí que lo mismo que había hecho para conseguir la mitad del departamento lo podía hacer para conseguir la otra mitad y para eso no iba a escatimar en nada. Si volvía a tomar trabajos freelance, un poco de horas extras y alquilaba una de las habitaciones que me quedaba libre, entonces no tardaría en juntar todo el dinero que necesitaba. Así fue como le comenté a mis amigos que tenía una habitación disponible para alquilar. A varios amigos les interesó pero ninguno tenía suficiente dinero para pagar el lugar, no era que yo cobrase demasiado, lo que pasaba era que ninguno tenía un trabajo que todavía les permitiera vivir solos. Los días pasaron y una mañana me llegó un mensaje de Fran: -¡Hey, me enteré que estas alquilando un cuarto y yo necesito irme de la casa de mis viejos! ¿Quien era Fran? Habíamos sido compañeros en mi trabajo anterior donde yo era desarrollador y él tester. Era un pibe jodón con quien siempre nos hacíamos bromas. No podría decir que fuese lindo, quizás si agarrabas tan solo su cara no dirías eso, pero había algo en la manera de ser que resultaba seductor, sumado a que tenía un cuerpo… ¿que digo? Un pecho enorme. No era lo que se dice musculoso, tan solo tenía las proporciones perfectas, hacía mucho deporte y le gustaba cuidarse. Practicaba lucha libre y eso debía mantenerlo bastante entrenado. Él siempre supo que a mi me gustaban los hombres, pero nunca le importó. Tenía bastante claro que le gustaban las mujeres por lo que siempre le pellizcaba el culo a alguno para molestarlo, ¡incluso a mí!. En él era tan normal como darte una palmada. Sin embargo todo lo confiado que era con los hombres, con las mujeres se desvanecía. Simplemente cuando una chica le gustaba demasiado apenas podía hablarle. Recuerdo también que muchas de las chicas “que no le gustaban” estaban tan calientes por él como yo y más de una le chupó la pija en el baño de alguna fiesta. La idea de vivir con Fran me excitó desde el primer momento. Me lo imaginaba desnudo en el baño de mi casa y la sola idea ya me servía para acabar. A la semana siguiente dejó caer su bolso en el cuarto vacío y se instaló en casa. Al principio las cosas fueron bastante normales. Ambos desayunábamos juntos y después cada uno se iba al trabajo. Yo volvía por la tarde y disfrutaba de unas horas solo para trabajar hasta que caía la noche y él llegaba. Los mejores momentos era cuando andaba por la casa solo en calzoncillos. Tenía un pecho enorme, tal cual yo recordaba, marcado y ancho. Fran me sacaba una cabeza por lo que si nos cruzábamos en el baño yo tenía la imagen perfecta de sus músculos. —¡Cuidado, enanin! —me decía cuando nos cruzábamos de esa forma y lo decía para molestarme pero a mi me excitaba. Fran necesitaba ahorrar plata pero a diferencia mía no tenía voluntad para trabajar y no gastar. Salía con amigos y se gastaba demasiada plata en cada salida. No me sorprendía que no lograse ahorrar dinero. Según me enteré por un amigo en común solía pagar para tener sexo y al parecer necesitaba tener demasiado sexo por semana. Otra cosa que hacía con ese hermoso cuerpo que tenía era lucha libre por lo que tenía esos trajes ridiculos de spandex que le quedaban de maravilla. Resaltaban sus anchos hombros, su pecho y su pija. Me lo imaginaba luchando con esa ropa con algún otro hombre vestido igual y la idea me alcanzaba para toda la noche. Las cosas comenzaron a cambiar una tarde que vino enojado de entrenar. El entrenador le había dicho que necesitaba ganar peso para competir en el torneo. —¿Cuanto tenés que ganar? —le pregunté. —Tengo que pesar 80 kilos —me respondió. No me parecía tanto y se lo dije. —¡Diez kilos de músculo! —me dijo como si fuera algo obvio— ¡Vos porque nunca ganaste ni un kilo en tu vida! ¡Apuesto que no levantás ni cinco kilos en el gimnasio! Para ganar tanto músculo tendría que comer muchisima carne, ¡con lo caro que sale!, tomar suplementos que son carísimos y además ir a un nutricionista. ¡No puedo pagar todo eso!. Más allá de que la idea de que se volviera más musculoso me excitaba y no tardé ni diez segundos en imaginarme una versión de Fran más fuerte y musculosa… con el pecho enorme y los brazos abultados… también era verdad que lo quería ayudar, al menos a que aprendiera a ser riguroso para conseguir lo que quería. Entonces le ofrecí que si durante un mes el podía enfocar todos sus esfuerzos en este desafío y usar la plata solo para sus objetivos entonces yo lo ayudaría. ¿Como? Durante un mes no le cobraría alquiler. —¿En serio? —me preguntó. —Pero solo si veo que te lo tomas en serio. —¡Obvio! ¡Ya vas a ver! ¡Me voy a volver una bestia! No sé si fueron mis palabras o las ganas que tenía de entrar al torneo pero algo en su actitud cambió de la noche a la mañana. Dejó de salir con amigos y se anotó todos los días en el gimnasio. Nuestra cocina se llenó de suplementos y la heladera de carne, pollo, verduras y otras cosas de las que ni siquiera sabía el nombre. Todos los días después del trabajo se iba a entrenar y llegaba para comer. Ahora él cocinaba para ambos y comía unas cantidades impresionantes de carne y carbohidratos. Tomaba sus suplementos de forma rigurosa y se iba a dormir para descansar lo suficiente. En pocos días noté la diferencia. Cuando salía de bañarse podía ver los cambios. Músculos sobre músculos se le marcaban en la espalda que de pronto había crecido unos cuantos centímetros. Sus hombros se volvieron más redondos y su pecho se marcó como si de pronto quisiera salirse de su cuerpo. Sus brazos se volvieron más grandes y sus piernas comenzaron a convertirse en jamones. Lo que también comenzó a suceder es que se tomaba duchas mas largas, después de las cuales siempre decía con una sonrisa y guiñándome un ojo: —Hay que atender a la bestia —y se rascaba la pija debajo de la toalla. Y así como él se masturbaba todos los días yo hacía lo mismo después… imaginando su cuerpo, sus músculos duros y fuertes y sobre todo su enorme pecho mientras crecía. El mes pasó pronto y una mañana me dijo: —Gané 5 kilos. ¿5 kilos? ¡Parecía como si hubiera ganado 20! Todos sus músculos se habían vuelto más grandes. —Lo que pasa es que perdí algo de grasa y gané más masa muscular. Y para remarcar su punto flexionó su brazo. Era enorme. —¡Felicitaciones! ¡Yo sabía que podrías hacerlo! Pero en lugar de sonreír se puso serio y me dijo: —¿Doble o nada? —¿Eh? —Doble o nada. Hacemos otro mes igual a este y si no llego a ganar otros cinco kilos te devuelvo toda la plata… —¿… y si lo lográs? Se quedó pensando durante unos segundos. —No te pago el alquiler por dos meses más… Más allá de que la diferencia de recibir o no el alquiler era importante, la idea de verlo crecer más aún me estaba calentando. —¡Trato hecho!—dije y le estreché la mano que me ofrecía. Fran apretó con fuerza. El mes siguiente fue una locura. Por alguna razón que desconozco Fran dejó de usar remeras de un día para otro. Todos los días veía sus enormes músculos pasearse por toda mi casa. Sus piernas todas marcadas, sus abdominales y su enorme pecho (cada día más grande). Cada día cocinaba cantidades más grandes de comida que comía frente a mi solo en calzones. Cuando terminaba se golpeaba la panza y sonreía. Era como verlo inflarse delante mío. Sus duchas eran interminables, era demasiado obvio que se estaba masturbando como loco. Y yo después de él, pensando en él y en lo enorme que se estaba volviendo. La noche anterior a que terminara el mes trajo una balanza. —Mañana es el gran día —dijo y se fue a dormir. A la mañana siguiente cuando me levanté ya había hecho el desayuno. Se estaba levantando incluso más temprano que yo. Solo llevaba puesto unos calzones calvin klein que le marcaban la pija… —¿Lees? —me dijo parado sobre la balanza. —92 kilos —¡Ja! —dijo y se bajó de la balanza flexionando ambos brazos— ¡Soy una bestia! Dicho eso se puso a comer. Yo todavía no entendía que había pasado, estaba demasiado dormido. Tardé unos segundos en hacer las cuentas, había ganado más de 5 kilo, ¿no? Los dos meses siguientes que había ganado para vivir gratis fueron más de lo mismo. E incluso llegué a creer que se había vuelto loco, era una persona totalmente diferente. Estaba obsesionado con las cantidad de la comida, con las horas de sueño, con las cantidades de pesos de cada ejercicio. Pero todo eso parecía estar dando resultado ya que crecía cada día más y no solo sus músculos eran mas grandes, estaba creciendo en altura. Una noche que salió de la ducha vi como su pelo rozaba el marco de la puerta. Pero no solo eso, sus hombros también. Se tuvo que comprar ropa nueva porque la anterior ya no le entraba. Sus brazos eran demasiado gruesos y su pecho parecía ser el doble que antes. Cuando los dos meses que había ganado gratis se terminaron algo cambió de repente. La semana siguiente usó remera todos los días. Yo me había acostumbrado a ver su impresionante cuerpo lleno de músculos pasearse por casa… ese enorme pecho al que imaginaba todo el tiempo creciendo cada vez más… Al quinto día le dije: —¿Che, Fran, pasa algo? —¿Por? —me preguntó él levantando la cara del plato de comida. —No sé… digo… estás como raro… —¿Yo? ¿Por? —No sé… digo… —jamás podría decir lo que pensaba… ni siquiera sabía lo que estaba pensando… Ahi Fran sonrió. —¿Me estás preguntando porque no ando más sin remera? —¡¿Que?! ¡No, obvio que no! —¿Entonces? —No nada… dejá… Esa noche se sentó frente a mi con su enorme plato de comida y me dijo serio. —Okey, necesito plata… Lo miré sin entender. —Con lo que gano no me alcanza y necesito plata. —¿Y que vas a hacer? Me miró serio, corrió el plato de comida y me dijo: —Quiero hacer un… trato… —¿Un trato? —Si… —¿Que clase de trato? —Bueno… ¿viste… viste como yo…? Lo miré esperando su respuesta. —¿Alguna vez pagaste por ver a alguien? —¿Eh? ¿De qué estás hablando? —¡Dale, chabon! ¡Ya sabés de lo que te estoy hablando! ¡Un stripclub! —Fran, no te sigo… pero no, nunca fui a uno de esos lugares. —Bueno, es un lugar donde uno paga por ver a minas… o tipos… bailar desnudas… desnudos… Lo miré sin poder creer lo que me estaba diciendo. Debajo de la mesa la pija se me puso dura en un segundo. —¿Me estás diciendo que te pague por verte desnudo? —Algo asi… —dijo sonriendo. —¡¿QUE?! —por dentro mi corazón estaba saltando de alegría pero al mismo tiempo no entendía que estaba pasando. —¡No pienses cualquier cosa! ¡Pensalo como un… win win…! Yo necesito plata… y vos… y a vos te gustan los tipos… digo… dado que a mi me gustan las minas con tetas bien grandes me imaginé que a vos quizás te gustaban los tipos… musculosos y fuertes… como yo… —¿Estás loco? —¡NO! Pensalo así…es como que me auspiciarías… me darías una mano… y yo a cambio te dejo ver mi cuerpo… mis músculos… ¡daaaale! ¡No me vas a decir que te dan ganas de ver el lomo que tengo! —… —Imaginate esto… vuelvo de entrenar a casa… y estoy todo duro… tengo todos los músculos enormes… tan duros que apenas puedo bajar los brazos…. ¿no te ganas ganas de ver lo fuerte que me estoy poniendo? —Estás loco… —dije y me levanté y me fui a dormir. Esa noche apenas pude dormir y me masturbé 5 veces antes de que sonara el despertador. Me levanté destruido. Fran comía el desayuno. Me senté frente a él intentando despertarme. —No dormiste nada, ¿no? —No… —¿Cuantas veces te pajeaste? —Cinco… —¡¿Cinco?! ¡Ja! ¡Zarpado! ¿Tanto te excita mi cuerpo? Dije si con la cabeza. —¡Que chabon! Y pregunté pensar dije: —¿Por cuanto tiempo? Fran me miró y sonrió. —Lo que vos digas. —Okey… vamos a probar con un mes y vemos. Se levantó y se acercó a mi silla. Me levantó como si no pesara nada y me abrazó apretándome contra su pecho. Después me soltó y sin esperar un minuto se sacó la remera con el movimiento más impresionante que vi en mi vida. Con ambos brazos agarró la parte de abajo y como si levantara una bandera se sacó la remera. Sus abdominales perfectos aparecieron uno encima de otro y después su pecho enorme… fuerte… —¡Vas a ver! —me dijo mientras flexionaba ambos brazos—¡Vas a disfrutar cada día de ver el lomo que tengo! ¡Me voy a poner enorme! Me voy a volver el hombre más musculoso que viste en tu puta vida y me voy a pasear delante tuyo para que lo veas. Me despeinó con una mano y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese mes fue una locura. Fran crecía como una bestia. Todos los días lo veía más y más grande y ya no solo se paseaba sin remera, sino que cada tanto flexionaba ambos brazos y me decía: —¿Y? ¿Que tal mis músculos? ¿Te gusta lo que estás viendo? ¡Me estoy poniendo enorme! Yo me quedaba mudo, viendo el tamaño imposible de su pecho. ¡Así tenía que ser el pecho de un hombre! A fin de mes no solo pesaba casi 100 kilos sino que además me sacaba dos cabezas. Cuando nos cruzábamos en el baño me decía cosas como: —¿Que tal la vista desde ahí abajo, putito? ¿Estoy demasiado grande? ¿Cuantas veces vas a pajearte hoy después de verme en bolas? —y flexionaba su pecho enorme y fuerte— Apuesto que tengo el pecho más grandes que viste en tu puta vida. En el gimnasio no hay nadie que tenga unas tetas como yo —dijo y mientras se masajeaba el pecho con una mano— No te das una idea la fuerza que tengo en mis pectorales, te apuesto a que puedo levantar más de diez veces tu peso. Cuando termino de entrenar tengo el pecho tan duro que apenas me puedo poner la remera. ¿Te acordas el traje de lucha que usaba cuando me vine a vivir acá? ¿Te imaginás como me quedaría ahora con estos músculos? ¿Te gustaría que me lo pusiera? Sin pensarlo dije que si… —¡jaja! Que puto que sos… Esa noche me masturbé sin parar hasta que me dolió la pija. Cuando llegó el mes siguiente le dije: —¿Como seguimos? Yo solo quería verlo sin remera… cada día más grande y musculoso… lo imaginaba teniendo que agacharse para pasar por la puerta. —Hagamos esto… ¿Que te parece si hacemos un arreglo por peso? —¿Por peso? —¡Claro! En lugar de que yo no te pague el alquiler… vos me pagas por kilo… —¿Por kilo? —Es así, ya hice las cuentas… vos ahora me estás “dando” esta plata que es igual al total del alquiler… ¿no? Si dividimos este numero por mi peso… da esto... ¿me seguís? Entonces pensé que quizás podemos bajar un poco el precio por kilo… de ese modo yo tendría que ganar aproximadamente… mmm… veinte kilos más para seguir sin pagar… ¿se entiende? Agarré la hoja donde había hecho todos los cálculos y la miré mientras pensaba: ¿20 kilos más de músculo? Fran ya era enorme, o sea podía aparecer en cualquier portada de cualquier revista de deporte. ¿Podía ganar más músculo? —De esa manera me estimulo a crecer y vos… podes verlo… ¿que te parece? —dijo y me guiñó el ojo— ¿Te imaginás lo que va a ser mi cuerpo con 20 kilos mas? Lo que pasó ese mes cambió todo. Yo había imaginado que Fran seguiría creciendo como venía haciendo hasta entonces… quizás un poco más lento, pero que todo sería mas o menos igual. Estaba muy equivocado. Ahi fui cuando vi lo que podían hacer los anabólicos. Al términar la primer semana fue como si de repente hubiera inflado todos sus músculos y los mantuviera todo el tiempo en tensión. Fue como si sus músculos adquirieran otra calidad, otra fuerza. Al principio no me imaginé lo que estaba pasando, pero algunas cosas me empezaron a llamar la atención. Poco a poco estaba más agresivo… —Mirá puto, mirá el tamaño de mis brazo —me decía y flexionaba sus brazos para después mirarme sobre su pecho como si mirara una basura— Así tiene que ser el cuerpo de un hombre…no esa mierdita enana que sos vos A veces se me acercaba demasiado y “sin querer” me empujaba: —Uh, disculpá putito, no te ví ahi abajo. A veces no me doy cuenta lo enorme que estoy. O a veces tan solo me decía: —¿Y? ¿Te está gustando lo que ves? ¿Que sentís al verme sin remera? ¿Te calienta mi pecho musculoso? No te das una idea lo fuerte que estoy. En el gimnasio estoy levantando como un toro. Después de cada una de esas frases yo solo podía encerrarme en mi cuarto a masturbarme. Una mañana de sábado recuerdo que me levanté temprano, fui a la cocina y me preparé el desayuno. Primero escuché la puerta de su cuarto abrirse y después los pasos de oso que daba Fran al caminar. Yo estaba preparándome el café cuando sentí su sombra enorme pasar por encima mío. Sin decir nada abrió la heladera y la volvió a cerrar. Cuando lo miré estaba tomando leche directamente del cartón. Solo tenía puestos unos calzoncillos que dejaban a la vista la enorme pija que todavía estaba un poco parada. Su cuerpo era una montaña de músculos. Sus piernas apretaban contra la tela del calzón pero su cintura era del tamaño justo, solo si seguías subiendo su cuerpo se ensanchaba hasta ser casi del tamaño de una puerta doble. Un pecho impresionante todo musculoso coronaba los abdominales marcados y a ambos lados unos hombros gigantescos con unos brazos abultados llenos de venas. Un poco de leche le cayó sobre el pecho y dibujó un río entre los pectorales gigantescos. Entonces me di cuenta que Fran me miraba. Me guiñó un ojo y tuve que irme despacio al baño y masturbarme con la imagen de su cuerpo desnudo y duro tomando leche. El último día del mes, después de desayunar, dijo: —Veni, putito. Vamos a pesarme. Se paró sobre la balanza pero ni siquiera se asomó sobre su pecho para mirar. —¿Que dice? Me agaché para ver. —125 kilos… —jaja… te dije… Yo no lo podía creer. O sea, se notaba la diferencia. Fran estaba enorme, una montaña de músculos todos marcados, uno sobre otros. —Me debes esto —me dijo mostrándome un papel con una cuenta. —¡¿Que?! —Es lo que habíamos arreglado… el arreglo era por kilo y ¿ves como acá dice que si pesaba 120 me pagabas exactamente lo mismo que el alquiler? Bueno, ahora peso 5 kilos mas que eso. Por lo que me debes esta plata. No es mucho… Yo no lo podía creer y me lo quedé mirando con la boca abierta. —¿Que pasa? ¿No me querés pagar? Su cara cambió de repente. Dio un paso hacia adelante y yo uno hacia atrás. Estaba contra la pared. —Te das cuenta que no es muy buena idea no querer pagarle a un hombre de 125 kilos, ¿no? Mirá el lomo que tengo… ¿Sabés lo que puedo hacerte con estos músculos? Eso bastó para que saliera corriendo a buscar mi billetera. Traje la plata y la puse sobre la mesa. Él la miró todavía enojado y en un segundo cambió la expresión. Con una sonrisa dijo: —Te estaba boludeando, enano. Quedátela, estos cinco kilos de músculo van por mi cuenta. Disfrutalos —dijo e hizo su pecho subir y bajar— Seguimos entonces con el mismo arreglo… ¿te parece? Solo que esta vez aclaramos que sin importar cuanto peso gane no me tenés que dar plata vos. ¿Te parece? Yo todavía estaba temblando. Dije si. —Pero si te parece podemos agregar esta otra hoja. Y me pasó una hoja con precios. Me miró con una sonrisa. La miré sin entender nada. —Te lo explico… esto que vez acá es el precio por tocar… y esto que vez acá es el grupo muscular. Por ejemplo si me querés tocar el pecho durante un minuto sale tanto… ¿se entiende? Mi cabeza de pronto se había detenido. —¿Que pasa? ¿Te lo tengo que explicar? ¡Es fácil, enano! La idea es que me pagues por tocarme. ¿O me decís que no te dan ganas de tocar estos músculos? Mírame el pecho… bueno, sale esto. Se paró y se fue a cambiar para ir al trabajo. Ese día llamé a la oficina diciendo que estaba enfermo. Me masturbé hasta que pensé que me moría. Después dormí y cuando faltaba poco para que Fran volviera a casa me fui a caminar. Mi cabeza no paraba de dar vueltas, nunca me había pasado algo como eso. Simplemente estaba perdido…. era una locura… O sea, era mucha guita. La verdad… ¿que estaba pensando? ¡No iba a pagar por tocarlo! ¡Era ridículo! Cuando volví a casa él estaba terminando de comer. Puse la plata en la mesa y respiré hondo. Fran sonrió, se limpió la boca con la mano, corrió la silla, abrió las piernas y mirándose el pecho con una sonrisa perversa dijo: —Todo tuyo. Incluso sentado me sacaba una cabeza. Yo era un enanito frente a un gigante musculoso. Me acerqué temblando y apoyé ambas manos sobre su enorme pecho. Era mucho más duro y suave de lo que había imaginado. Era impresionante, casi tan grande como mis dos almohadas. Era pesado y cada vez que lo levantaba caía de nuevo. De pronto lo puso duro y fue como si se volviera una roca. Comencé a masajearlo… —¿Te gusta enano? ¿Te gusta tocar mi pecho? ¡Así es un pecho de hombre! Salí corriendo y me encerré en el baño un segundo antes de acabar. No había llegado ni a tocarlo durante un minuto. Se imaginan como siguió todo. Bueno, yo no… nunca pensé que me podría pasar algo como esto. Cada día que llegaba a casa me decía a mi mismo que no iba a pagar más… que esperaría hasta la próxima semana… o bueno, hasta dentro de tres días… aguantaría hasta mañana… Cada día pagaba por tocarlo. Y cada día pasaba lo mismo. —¿Te gustan mis brazos? —decía y los flexionaba mientras yo lo tocaba— Apretá fuerte, dale. ¡Apretá como hombre! Ja, imagínate la fuerza que tengo que ni siquiera podes apretar un centímetro… ¡Dale apretá con fuerza, putito! ¡Mirá las manos de enano que tenés sobre mis enormes músculos! Lo toqué todo y cuando lo toqué todo varias veces trajo una nueva hoja con “promos”. “Cuerpo completo” o “después de entrenar” o “en pose”. Las probé todas… y al final del mes me di cuenta que había gastado todo mi sueldo. No podía creerlo, pero al mismo tiempo no podía parar… Al día siguiente fue Fran el que dijo: —Ahora no puedo, mañana. Se puso una remera sobre sus enormes músculos y salió. Esa noche no pude dormir y tuve que masturbarme de nuevo hasta que me doliera todo. A la madrugada lo escuché volver, pero no estaba solo. —Shhhh, no hagas ruido que mi amigo está durmiendo… —dijo en voz baja. A los cinco minutos la mina empezó a gritar mientras él se la cogía en su cuarto. Intenté masturbarme de nuevo pero solo logré que me salieran lágrimas de los ojos. Fran empezó a traer mujeres casi todas las noches. Algunas tuve que conocerlas ya que me las cruzaba en la cena y otras tan solo las escuché gritar… una… dos…. tres… cuatro… cinco veces… Fran estaba cogiendo por todo lo que antes no había cogido. De seguro estaba aprovechando toda la plata que yo le había dado por tocarlo para pagar por esas mujeres… porque no había duda de que eran putas… o sea… eran mujeres demasiado impresionantes como para no serlo… Una mañana después de que desayunásemos Fran, yo y una de ellas y de que ella se fuera sin siquiera saludarme le pregunté: —¿Cuanto te cobra? Fran me miró sonriendo. Su cuerpo estaba inmenso. Hacía varias semanas que no tocaba esos músculos y solo podía imaginar lo duros que estaban ahora. Estiró los brazos dejándome ver el tamaño de sus músculos. Estaba inmenso, nunca había visto un hombre tan grande. Dejó escapar una risa. —Ya no pago… —No entiendo… –Yo no soy el que paga… Lo miré sin entender. Se puso de pie para ir a su cuarto… su espalda era una montaña de músculos haciendo un trabajo perfecto. Cuando volvió traía un cajón. Adentro estaba lleno de fajos de billetes. —Son ellas las que pagan. —¡¿Que….?! ¿Me estás jodiendo? ¿Cuanto…? —¡ja! ¿Que pasa? ¿Querés saber cuanto cuesta que te coja esta montaña de músculos? —dijo y su pecho subió y bajó para después flexionar sus brazos… ¡Dios mío, eran enormes! Me quedé mudo. —Jaja, que puto que sos… Acá está el precio. Era imposible que alguien pagara… que una mina pagara… era mucho… ¿aceptaría tarjeta? ¿También era para tipos? —Vení que te muestro —me dijo y casi se me paró el corazón. Pero no fue lo que yo imaginaba. Se sentó en el sillón y prendió la notebook. Me senté a lado. Apoyó la notebook en la mesita y le dio play al video. Se dejó caer contra el respaldo y pasó la mano por arriba mío, me apretó contra su cuerpo —mi cachete apretado por su pecho— y dijo: —Vas a ver todo el show. La mina estaba en cuatro sobre la cama moviéndose hacia atrás y hacia adelante. Estaba filmado con el celular. Fran lo levantó y filmó el cuerpo de ella desde arriba y después se filmó a él. Todos sus músculos enormes y transpirados brillaban por la poca luz del cuarto. Era un compilado en el que se cogía a una mina tras otra. Algunas de parado. Otras contra la pared, otras las aplastaba bajo sus músculos. Era una locura…. pero lo que era una locura era el tamaño de su pija. Era imposiblemente grande. Fue entonces que puso su enorme mano sobre mi pantalón y empezó a acariciarme. —Mejor sin esto —dijo y me sacó el pantalón en un segundo. Mi pija estaba parada debajo de calzóncillo…. parada es una forma de decir… nunca tuve una pija grande… bueno, okey… la tengo bastante chica… Fran ahogó una risa y me empezó a masturbar con dos dedos. Cada dedo suyo era mas grande que mi pija. —Es como un pescadito —me dijo con tono de burla— ¿No se te pone dura? La verdad era que no se me ponía nunca muy dura… Estaba por decir algo cuando vi lo que estaba pasando en su pantalón. Era como si hubiera metido dos bananas… tres bananas en su bolsillo. —¿Querés ver una pija en serio? —dijo y con su otra mano llevó la mía hasta tocar su pija. Acabé en un segundo. —¡Uhhgg! ¡Boludo! —dijo y se limpió el semen en mi remera—. ¡Que chabon! Vení… encárgate vos de esta… Y se sacó el pantalón. La pija más grande que vi en mi vida se paró delante de mis ojos. —Tan grande como el resto de mis músculos… —dijo bromeando mientras me miraba y miraba su pija gigantesca—¿Y? ¿No vas a hacer nada? Con la mano temblando le agarré la pija. Era tan grande y estaba tan dura que no podía cerrar la mano. —Con las dos —me dijo. Y lo agarré rápido con la otra. Apoyó la cabeza contra el respaldo y se echó para atrás. —Mas fuerte. Su pija era mas grande que mi brazo extendido, era simplemente enorme y no pude imaginar quien podría aguantar… que mina podría soportar que se le cogieran con una pija tan grande. —Mas fuerte, enano. Todo su cuerpo estaba cubierto de músculos enormes, duros y brillantes. Incluso desnudo era como si tuviera una armadura puesta y su pija era una espada… un cañón. —Más fuerte… ¡dale! Estaba apretando con todas mis fuerzas, pero él apenas lo sentía. Se puso de pie y me levantó con una mano. Me cargó hasta el baño, prendió la luz y se paró frente al espejo. Todo su cuerpo musculoso brillando bajo la luz del baño. Me sentó en su pija y me dijo: —Hace como si fuera tu pija… ¡Dale! Me agarré para no caerme. —Imaginate que te creció una pija enorme de repente… ¡Dale! Imagínate que te podes a coger a todas las minas… que todas se mueren por chuparte la pija… por tocarte los músculos —y mientras decía eso flexionaba ambos brazos— que sos el hombre más musculoso del mundo, más fuerte que un toro y más duro que un tanque. Imagínate que empezás a ganar guita porque todos quieren tocarte los músculos y vos solo creces y creces y tenés una fuerza de la puta madre y estás todo duro y podes garchar por horas y horas y acabar una y otra vez. Ahhh… soy enorme. Mirá el lomo que tengo, putito. Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos. Soy una bestia… ¿sabes lo que hacen las bestias como yo? Cogen… Me bajó de su pija y me dejó en el piso frente a él con su pija apuntando a mi cara. Era el gigante musculoso más grande que había visto en mi puta vida. —Mirá putito… mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… imaginate lo que te haría si te garchara con esta pija… te rompería el culo… no podrías volver a sentarte en tu puta vida… ¿querés probarla? Apuesto a que me querés chupar toda la pija… —Si… —Jajaja, que puto que sos… está bien, esta corre por mi cuenta. Y con una mano en mi cabeza me sostuvo mientras me acercaba la pija. Era enorme, era demasiado grande, imposible que me entrara en la boca. —Abrí grande… jaja, te voy a romper la boca, boludo… soy enorme… Yo respiraba por la nariz intentando no ahogarme… —¿Que pasa, enano? ¿La tengo muy grande? Eso te pasa por querer chuparle la pija a un gigante como yo. ahhhh… Te rompería la boca solo porque sos un puto de mierda… Mirá el tamaño de mis músculos… Esto es un hombre… No esa mierda enana que sos vos… Mirá mis brazos… Mirá lo fuerte que estoy… Esto es un hombre… ¿Me escuchaste, putito? ¡Abrí la boca o te la rompo con mi poronga! Apuesto a que te morís de ganas de tocarme los músculos… No podes pagarlo enano. Estoy demasiado grande, demasiado duro, soy demasiado fuerte. Y ni bien acabó me atraganté y todo se volvió blanco y después negro… A la semana siguiente Fran había renunciado a su trabajo. Cuando yo regresaba de la oficina (lo más rápido que podía) encontraba el tacho de basura lleno de preservativos gigantes y ropa rota de mujer. Fran se había convertido en un prostituto… Con la guita que ganaba empezó a comprarse ropa de marca, perfumes, computadoras, celulares, todas cosas carísimas y para coronarlo se compró una camioneta tan enorme como él. Estaba cobrando tanta plata que me regalaba guita: —Comprate algo, putito. Pero yo solo quería pagarle… Quería tocar su enorme lomo… Ahora que yo apenas le llegaba a la cintura Fran se había convertido en un dios inmenso, fuerte y musculoso… y en mi bolsillo yo apretaba la plata que había sacado del banco. Un día encontré en el piso la hoja con los nuevos precios… Ni siquiera el sueldo de un mes me alcanzaría para tocarlo durante un minuto… Fran se había vuelto un prostituto VIP… Las mujeres que se acostaban con él eran millonarias. Mujeres que solo existían en las revistas y en la televisión. Y Fran se las cogía a todas. Tenía sus clientas regulares que lo amaban, que le tocaban el pecho y se volvían locas con su fuerza, con la enorme pija que tenía. Cuando desayunábamos juntos muchas veces alguna de ella dejaba caer un fajo de billetes sobre la mesa solo para tocarlo mientras él desayunaba. —¿Te gusta mi cuerpo, putita? —le decía él. Una noche llegó con tres mujeres. Con solo verlas se notaba que eran más grandes, quizás tendrían cuarenta años. Todas operadas, con las tetas enormes y llenas de guita, de oro por todos lados. Las llevó a su cuarto y se las empezó a coger… me di cuenta porque empezaron a gritar como locas. Pero de un segundo a otro se quedaron callados y entonces Fran entró en mi cuarto… desnudo. Era como si una montaña de músculos pasara de pronto por la puerta. Tenía todo el cuerpo brillante, cubierto de un aceite que lo hacía verse todavía más grande…. y su pija… gigantesca… parada… dura como un tronco… un mástil frente a mi que estaba acostado en mi cama… —Che, necesito que me hagas un favor… —me dijo desde arriba de sus increíbles músculos… era una bestia toda inflada— Necesito que me filmes cogiéndome a estas viejas… —¿Que? —Son clientas mias y quieren tener un video mío cogiéndomelas… Dijo eso y salió (agachándose para no destrozar la pared). Lo seguí. En su cuarto la ropa estaba tirada por todo el piso y en su cama estaban acostadas las tres mujeres, desnudas, con sus tetas inmensas, sus culos operados y con la cara y el cuerpo cubiertos de semen. —Awww que tierno tu amiguito… —dijo una. —¡Que precioso! ¿Nos vas hacer el favor? ¡Que ternura! —Queremos que lo filmes a él… y ese cuerpo musculoso que tiene cogiéndonos… Sos hermoso, Fran… Un semental… —Filmale el pecho, mirá el pecho enorme que tiene… ¡que macho! —Filmale la pija, mirá esa pija. —¡A mi primero! —gritó una y Fran se la cogió contra la pared, apretándola con sus músculos mientras ella le chupaba el pecho que la aplastaba. —Filmale la espalda, mirá esa espalda llena de músculos… mirá lo fuerte que es… —Mirá esas piernas… Dios mio… es una bestia… Y Fran se las cogió a todas dos veces y yo filmando todo. Cuando terminó se acercó a mi y yo retrocedí hasta quedar pegado contra la pared. Me sacó el celular y se puso a ver el video. Su pija parada todavía goteaba sobre mi cabeza, sus piernas musculosas y enormes me impedían cualquier movimiento. Olía a mucho sexo. Y todo el cuerpo le brillaba. —Bien filmado, putito… estoy enorme —me dijo y con una mano me despeinó me apretó contra sus piernas para luego acostarse en la cama con las tres minas. Los cuatro se pusieron a ver el video mientras ellas lo tocaban y lo besaban y mordían. —¡Gracias, precioso! –dijo una y me tiró un beso. —¡Que buen ojo! ¡Mirá como se ve todo tu cuerpo, Fran! ¡Estas enorme! ¡Mirá estos brazos! Pero una de ellas no decía nada y me miraba. Tenía los ojos grandes y una mirada que entendía las cosas. Se lamió los labios y dijo: —¿Como podemos agradecerte? —mientras le tocaba el pecho a Fran. Pasó su mano sobre esos enormes pectorales y después le agarró la pija todavía dura. —Fran, ¿como podemos pagarle a tu amigo? —¿A él? —me miró y me guiñó un ojo— Creo que ya está contento con verme coger… —¡Aw, en serio? ¿Es de “esos”? —Precioso, ¿así que te gustan los músculos de tu amigo Fran? ¿Viste lo enorme que es? ¡Mirá este pecho! ¡No hay ningún hombre con un pecho tan grande! ¡Que duro! ¡Aw, Fran, sos inmenso! —¿Fran, cuanto te debemos? —Ahi está la lista de precios —dijo él señalando la pared sin dejar de ver el video. La mujer de los ojos grandes se paró y se acercó a la pared. Leyó la lista de precios y después me miró. –Chicas… —dijo y regresó a la cama— ¿Que tal si le hacemos un regalo a nuestro amiguito? —¿Un regalo? —preguntó otra y cuando la primera le susurró al oido sonrió. —¡Un regalo bien grande y musculoso! —Aw, sí, ¿te da ganas, chiquito? ¿Querés saber lo que se siente que te coja el hombre más musculoso del mundo? Mirá el tamaño de esta pija, mirá los hombros que tiene. Mirá este pecho y estos brazos. Es un macho inmenso y coge como los dioses. —Tomá, Fran. Esto es por lo nuestro y esto es por tu amiguito… queremos un servicio completo… así disfruta de todos tus enormes músculos… Fran se puso de pie y se acercó hasta aplastarme con sus piernas. —Parece que es tu día de suerte, putito —dijo mientras se masturbaba la pija llena de semen— Vas a poder disfrutar de todo mi cuerpo… —dijo y me levantó y me sentó en la punta de su pija, pero antes me arrancó la ropa de un tirón. Sentí su pija gigantesca contra mi culo y como se mojaba todo. Su pecho me apretaba contra la pared, intenté empujarlo con mis manos pero era como empujar una pared, una montaña llena de músculos. Fran estaba todo duro y caliente. —¿Que pasa, chiquito? —dijo una de las minas. Ambas se acercaron a Fran y empezaron a tocarle las enormes piernas. —¿No querías esto? ¿No querías tocar los enormes músculos de tu amigo? Mirá lo grande que es. Aprovecha y sácate las ganas de tocarlo. Mirá el pecho que tiene. Mirá estos brazos enormes, mirá lo grandes que son sus músculos. Uh, estás re duro, Fran. Tocale el pecho, dale. —¡Que flacucho de mierda que sos! —me dijo Fran. —¿Que se siente estar sentado en la pija más grande que vas a ver en tu vida? —preguntó una de ellas. —¿Te das cuenta que te va a romper el orto? —preguntó otra. —Intentá defenderte —dijo Fran apretándome contra la pared— Dale, empujá, empujá en serio, dale putito. ¿Que pasa? ¿Estoy muy grande? ¿Soy muy fuerte? —Abrile ese culito que tiene, Fran. —Te voy a mostrar como coge un verdadero hombre. Uh como te va a gustar esto —dijo Fran flexionándo ambos brazos. —Fran, queremos que pongas toda tu fuerza en romperle bien ese culito que tiene. —Ja! —se río Fran— Lo voy a matar solo con abrirsle el culo con mi pija. La tengo demasiado grande para un culo tan chiquito —y después mirándome a mi con una mueca dijo— Dale, enano, tocame todo, sácate las ganas, toca todos mis enormes músculos. Uf, estoy enorme. —Espero que estés preparado, chiquitín —dijo una de ellas—Te va a violar un semental de 200 kilos. Y eso fue lo último que escuché, antes de que Fran me rompiera el culo con su enorme poronga.
  16. Hey guys, So I finished a story that's been sitting incomplete on my hard drive for the last couple years. A brief warning: it is dark and a little twisted but as it's meant to have a Halloween theme, it's not unexpected. This story evolved from a series of therapy writings I was doing while in treatment for severe depression and trauma. This story may not be for most so while I will appreciate any feedback, pleas make it constructive. Again, you've been warned this is not a "Happily Ever After" sort of tale... or maybe it could be depending on your point of view. I hope you enjoy and have a Happy Halloween! ***** Chapter 1 Halloween. The one day a year where magic seems much more tangible and attainable. Where anything can happen (and often does) in ways that should be unexplainable and yet are accepted as easily as dream logic. I was never a fan of Halloween, even as a kid. Sure, the free candy was nice, but it ranked just slightly above Valentine’s Day in terms of my enthusiasm because I just didn’t get it. This year, that changed. This year I realized the full scope of Halloween. The ancient power it held and how easy it was to tap into that power. This year, Halloween became my favorite holiday. Let me back things up just a bit for you. Proper introductions are important after all. My name is James and I’m what most people call a “good guy”. At least, that’s what I have heard from seemingly everyone lately. Trouble is though that I don’t seem to be good enough. Okay, maybe I should back things up just a bit more for you. A little over a year ago my first real romantic relationship ended. The guy I had been “seeing” for about 8 months told me that he was officially going to be with someone else. Someone younger than I was. Someone who was more outgoing and fun than I was. Someone that was better built than I was (my ex had as much a muscle fetish as I do, more on that later). Someone that he had been seeing the entire time we had been dating (though he refused to call it dating) and even though he said he still cared for me (downgraded from loved me, which he told me he did less than a month before breaking things off) and wanted to be in my life, he needed to follow his heart. Trouble is, I seriously doubt that his heart had anything to do with the matter, other than supplying enough blood to his dick… Anyway, in the months following the “break up” we had been trying to remain friends. I was trying at least, whereas he seemed to be phoning it in most of the time because, let’s face it, he had someone else to devote his time/life to and no one else really seems to matter in that situation. After a series of setups and disappointments by both of them, their constant playing with my emotions and making me question my sense of reality/history, this culminated in quite a severe mental breakdown: a major case of depression resulting in multiple suicide attempts telling myself I wasn’t good enough to keep living. After being hospitalized and attempting my best at treatment, I wasn’t “getting better” as quickly or in the ways he thought I should. Unfortunately, due to this and his own choices, recently he decided that I was no longer worth his time or trouble and he completely cut ties with me. I’m sure many of you are saying that I should have done that first and a long time ago. That I should have moved on, found someone better, written him off as one of the worst human beings on the planet and been done with it. I had more than one therapist tell me as much, or at least something akin to that fact, as well as many friends/family members tell me that I needed to simply forget about him and move on. If only the heart worked on a system of logic like that. My brain certainly did, and I kept telling myself all the things he had done that were clearly in the “con” column to try and give my own heart enough evidence to stop hurting. Alas, the heart is chaotic and ruled by something far stranger, more complex and far more precious than logic. I loved him. I loved him with all I had and I still do because real, true love is unconditional like that. That was enough in the “pro” column to outweigh anything else I could muster in opposition. Still, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt, betrayed, disappointed, angry, hell furious to the point of nearly feeling homicidal at both of them, but through all of that pain, I still love him. Anyway, slightly off track so let’s get back to the main part of this story. Throughout the last several months I have done my best to try and “get better”. To improve myself and to regain some semblance of normalcy after the trauma and continued hell that I was put through both by myself and the actions of others (not just my ex). Eventually I was able to learn how to put up enough barriers and walls to not feel like a raw nerve all the time and allow myself time to heal a bit, but let’s face it, wounds that pierce that deep never really heal. Eventually, I realized that I wasn’t going to be the person I was before. Too much of me had changed, too much had been irrevocably lost. I could be someone different, maybe even someone better, but I couldn’t ever get back to the place or the person I was either when I was with him or before. So, I did what I could to make myself feel better, to rebuild my life as it were and a large portion of that would next revolve around me rebuilding a “new” body. One of the things I shared with my ex was a desire to become as big and muscular as possible. I’m not talking cute fitness or “beach bodies” but real hulking muscle monsters. Those beasts of brawn at the top of the bodybuilding community where you part crowds like the Red Sea, and where limited range of motion is the goal. To get to the point where there was no doubt that we were serious meat heads and that we had no desire to slow down nor stop growing anytime soon… well ever really. With his encouragement and guidance, I was able to break through the last mental hurdles I had that were stopping me from actively pursuing that goal and started going to the gym. I had been giving myself no end of excuses for years but with him in my life I finally had enough confidence to put them all aside and start on the path of never-ending growth. I paid for a personal trainer, dedicated myself to it and I was fortunate to share the beginning of that journey with him and even though I stumbled with it for a while after our “break up” I have gotten back to it and have continued to grow and develop and improve myself physically which has helped in many ways to improve myself mentally. The only trouble I had though was that I still tie a lot of this muscle growth journey to him. I still recall our workouts together when I’m lifting, the meals we prepped and shared after a long workout, even when I was giving him his weekly injections. All in the pursuit of our mutual growth. I’m still trying to untangle the goals and desires of being massive from including him and have the focus be for me. However, knowing that he left me for someone bigger and better built than I was while initially highly damaging to me, has now provided plenty of motivation for my workouts. I was going to work my ass off to show him what he missed out on. I may not have been good enough before, but I would do whatever it took to outclass the guy he left me for and show them both what real muscle was! At least, that was the plan. Despite the fact that I had done all this work, changed my physique and was in much better shape and condition than I had ever been, I still was considered a “good guy” but not enough for anyone to want to date or be in a relationship with. Sure, I had many who wanted to fuck me, or be fucked by me, a single photo update on my online profile was enough to see that I had improved physically to be more desirable, but the couple of times I had met someone it was just a hormone release to them, or another sexual conquest and then they ghosted me. I was a good enough one-time disposable fuck toy, but not good enough to date. In my mind, it always came back to the voice that I wasn’t “good enough”. I wasn’t big enough, defined enough, handsome enough, so I did my best to focus that negative energy into my workouts. Given my pre-depression mindset of body dysmorphia for wanting to be a juggernaut of muscle and strength, this caused quite the feedback loop of pushing myself like a madman in the gym. Having all that fuel the fire of my workouts has no doubt been a benefit given my progress in the last few months even if it tends to scare off some people at the gym. Several friends I have lifted with commented that when they see the determination and focus on my face during a set, to them it came across as intimidating, aggressive and what one friend lovingly refers to as RBF (Resting Bitch Face). “Hey James, how have you been?” I jump and turn around to see Scott one machine down from me. “Oh, hey Scott, didn’t see you there. I’m good man, how’re you?” Normally I would say that even if I had seen him so as not to come across as a creeper, but I really hadn’t noticed him because when I lift, I am 100% focused on my form and my own body. All my concentration is in my muscles to ensure maximum engagement and results. I don’t scan the gym for whatever eye candy is there and ogle the guys showing off like so many do, despite Scott being seriously delicious eye candy. Plus, today he was in very different gym attire than what I was used to seeing him in (head to toe oversized sweats instead of a tight muscle tee and even tighter shorts that he normally wore) including a cap that obstructed his face so I honestly didn’t recognize it was him. “Not surprised. You’ve got better focus than almost anybody I’ve seen. I bet a riot could erupt and you wouldn’t know until you were done with your set!” “Probably. Came close to that the other day apparently. There was some issue with another member that had to be asked to leave and I had to ask what happened after all was said and done because I was doing a drop set and missed the whole thing! Besides, you look like you’re trying to avoid the paparazzi dressed like that! What’s new with you? Still prepping for that show in February?” Scott had planned and started doing prep three months ago for a show that took place last week but had to back out last minute due to other obligations. Scott had one of the best physiques I’ve ever seen in person coupled with a model level gorgeous face and a really nice, genuine personality. He was honestly as close to my ideal guy as possible which of course meant he was unavailable. Despite that letdown, he has taught me quite a bit about different exercises, plus helped me a bit with how to pose (which is nowhere near as easy as spectators believe). “Oh yeah, that was a bit of a mess I heard. Steph had to threaten to call the cops before he finally left.” “Yep. Which given the fact that I’m sure she could have kicked this guy’s ass by herself was merely a courtesy to him.” Steph was one of the employees at the gym. She is about 5’6 or so but better built and more conditioned than half of the guys who work out here. Couple that with a “take no shit” type of personality and she’s a force to be reckoned with! She will speak her mind even if it’s not in a professional way and is one of the funniest and friendliest people I know. She is not someone I would like to mess with though, even if I have a good 6” in height and 100 or so pounds on her. She’s small but she’s scrappy. “No doubt! I would not want to get on her bad side for sure! And no, not looking to avoid the paparazzi, I’m not that popular. Yeah in the midst of prep for it, hence the sweats. Time to up the cardio and it’s better to do cardio in sweats or heavy clothing as it traps the heat meaning you burn more calories. So how have you been? Haven’t seen you for a while.” Scott and I tended to lift at about the same time every day depending on our work schedules and had developed a rapport. Because I found him so easy to talk to, he inadvertently was one of those people that I had dumped my problems onto without consciously realizing it. The biggest of which happened to be my love life, or lack thereof, and all the things that had happened with Lee (my ex). He was one of the few people who helped keep me accountable and consistently going to the gym to help work through my issues and use the weights to better myself. Even though he was straight (which I found out after asking him out on an impulse, however he was extremely gracious and tactful in his response to my invitation) he was truly a nice guy and always had a nice word for me to help bolster my spirits. “Um, good, I guess. Been a rough few days at work but hanging in there as best I can. Have another ‘anniversary’ coming up which will be a challenge but somehow, I will make it through. And believe me, you’re more popular than you realize! I’ll admit to having the urge to be a paparazzi and sneak a few shots of you from time to time! I haven’t, but the urge is there. You’ve got a killer physique; one you’ve worked really hard developing and one that should be photographed and shown off.” One thing I’ve learned about most “straight” guys who are bodybuilders, if you stroke their ego enough, they tend to overlook the sexual inuendo and subtle flirting. “Ha!” he laughed and looked humble (yet another thing I found so attractive about him) “Maybe at a show, not any other time. But sorry to hear that you’re having a rough time. Well Halloween is coming up so that should help you right? Isn’t Tric doing some big Halloween party? You should get dressed up, go out, get drunk, have some fun. Take your mind off things for a night.” “You would think so right? I do actually have tentative plans with some friends to go to a party, but the anniversary is Halloween. Spent it with my ex last year post break-up to try and see how well we mesh as friends and he was the happiest I have ever seen him. The later it got, the drunker he got and more he went on about how great the other guy was and how happy he was in the relationship. Hard to sit through. Still, all I can do is take things one step at a time which right now means getting back to my workout and not letting a super stud like you distract me from my gains!” I laughed and took a quick sip from my shaker while I waited for his reply. He raised his hands in surrender with a grin forming on his face. “I wouldn’t dream of doing that! I need to get my ass on the stair climber anyway. Have a good workout man and I’ll catch you later!” He shook my hand before turning to leave. “Good luck climbing the Empire State Building!” I called after him grinning. He turned to smile back and then we both returned to our respective workouts. I finished up my chest workout a short while later having fully exhausted myself and burned through all my frustrations caused by my job that day. I managed to catch Scott's eye and wave as I walked out of the gym saying goodbye to the person at the desk. Once outside I patted down and searched in my pockets to find my keys. Realizing they weren’t there and most likely landed in my gym bag, I stopped at the back of my car setting the bag on the trunk to fish them out. Without warning, I was starting to sob digging around my bag. Despite every effort to the contrary, the memories of last Halloween were filling my mind and I was recalling the look of pure exultant joy on the face of the man that I saw my future with knowing he had already chosen another… “Excuse me?” I hear a voice from slightly behind me and turning around I was face to face with a middle-aged woman. Wiping my face quickly I did my best to put on a smile and “brave face”. “Yes?” I asked trying my best to look respectable and courteous despite wanting to run away to be alone. “I’m so sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you might be willing to help me with something. I brought this old chest to sell at the antique store here and I’m having some trouble getting it out of my car. Would you be so kind as to help me?” “Of course. Let me just put my bag in my car quick and I’ll be right there.” I smiled again and using the remote on my keys to unlock the doors, which I had finally located and extricated from the jungle of my gym bag, tossed the bag in the back seat and followed to her vehicle. “Thank you so much for this. I was counting on someone in the store being able to help me, but no one seems to be around and I’m in a bit of a hurry.” She did look slightly frazzled saying this and checked her watch to see the time. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy to help out.” She had a sizeable chest, at least a good 3 feet long and 2 feet wide secured with bungie cords into the trunk of her car. It had very intricate carvings all along it and despite looking extremely old, it was in almost immaculate condition. “This is beautiful.” I commented as I began undoing the bungie cords. “It’s a hope chest, right? My mom has one. Not nearly as detailed as this but about the same size.” “Yes. It belonged to my great aunt who recently passed away. I’m in charge of her estate and when some things didn’t sell at the auction and no one claimed them as inheritance, my only choice left was to sell them. For some reason this one didn’t sell at the auction even though the auctioneer was sure it would be one of the highest ticket items due to its condition. A friend suggested I bring it here.” Having been dragged to several auctions as a kid (and hating every minute of it) this was odd to me. Usually people will buy the strangest things when they can do so for pennies on the dollar of what they are actually worth. And this piece seemed highly valuable, so it was a shock to me that someone hadn’t snatched it up. I managed to pull the chest out easily enough given it was empty and she closed the trunk. “Actually, my friend suggested I try for that Antique Roadshow first and that maybe it would be end up being worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, but I don’t want to spend that much time and effort on it. I just need to get rid of it as I live out of state and can’t miss too much more work.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Loosing someone is never easy.” I puffed out as I walked trying my best to hold onto this thing. It was an awkward shape and size with no handles and I guess, without realizing it, I was trying to show off for this complete stranger by not having her help me carry it. Hearing about this woman’s family member dying shifted my mind immediately back to Lee as I walked toward the antique store next door to my gym. It was so strange that I only now realized it was exactly like a death that I was mourning but he was still alive. He was forever out of my life as though he died but he is still living and happy just not with me which somehow made it that much worse. “Thank you. To be honest, I never knew her that well so I’m not sure why she entrusted me to do all this, but here I am.” She shrugged at this and walked a bit ahead of me to hold open the door to the antique store. “You can just leave that here they said. Someone will take it to the back when we’re done filling out the paperwork after the appraisal. Thank you so much again for your help.” “You’re very welcome. I hope you have a good rest of your day and sorry again for your loss.” I smiled and turned to leave when something about the chest recaptured my attention. The woman was already moving deeper into the store to find the clerk or whomever to do the appraisal, but I was drawn back to this chest. It really was beautifully decorated and well maintained on the outside. Wonder what the inside looks like I thought and found myself kneeling to open it. It opened smoothly and was almost completely empty except for a single piece of paper. Reaching in to check it wasn’t something the woman might need that would accidently get lost with the chest, I found myself stunned at what I was looking at. The page looked and felt ancient. That really old thick paper or parchment that you see in movies or TV shows that is from the 1700’s or something. It didn’t feel delicate or fragile despite its apparent age. It was obviously torn from a book given the single jagged edge, but the rest of whatever book it came from was nowhere to be found. What was even more intriguing about this old page however was what was written on it: This page is conjured for a person whose life is woefully out of balance. Someone has caused you great pain for their own gain and this must be brought back to balance. Use the power of All Hallows Eve to call upon the forces needed to restore balance. If you truly believe, the instructions will appear. If not, this page will soon vanish and travel to the next person most in need of its services. I looked up with the overwhelming desire to laugh. This had to be a joke, right? Was there a camera somewhere, or was this planned just for me? It was too… specific. Well no more or less specific than most psychic readings in my opinion. Despite my skepticism, I always thought there was something out there beyond the tangible. Never really anything as mainstream as magic as that felt too easy, but I’ve had too many unexplainable things happen that I can’t help but believe there is some kind of force working in our lives that we haven’t identified… or maybe just forgot about/lost faith in? I looked around the store quickly to see if the woman had returned or was nearby to ask about this strange page and when I couldn’t locate her, assumed she went into a manager's office or back room and returned my gaze to the paper. There, below the first few lines, a new sentence appeared: No this is not a joke. That wasn’t there before. I know it wasn’t. Must have been some reaction to the sunlight after being planted in the dark chest. I remember reading about inks and dyes that act like “invisible” ink but require light or heat to be made visible again. Definitely a neat trick or novelty item, especially given that Halloween was so close. The only thing that could have made this even creepier would be… James I watched as my name was written onto the parchment. Not slowly appeared as though the ink were drying, but actually written out, letter by letter by some unseen hand. I dropped the paper in shock. Okay… either this is the best prank setup in history… Or it’s real. Like really real. Holy… or maybe unholy? There was no denying now that I believed this was some sort of magic but the question now thundering in my head was: what would be the cost of using it? I heard the sing song, high pitched voice of Rumpelstiltskin from Once Upon A Time in my head: “Magic always comes with a price dearie”. What exactly would happen? Restore my life to balance? That could mean any number of things. Without even really registering it, I had picked up the paper from the floor, folded it gently before putting it in my pocket then I was walking towards the back of the store to find the woman. She was talking to a man in what looked like a back-office area. “How much would you like for the chest?” I asked before really thinking through what I was asking. Why do I suddenly want to buy this woman’s hope chest? I didn’t have a use for it, didn’t really have a place for it in my apartment... but something inside told me I had to have it. “Oh!” She was shocked by this and said she’d be happy with $200. I told her I would be right back as there was an ATM at the end of the strip mall. The salesperson looked annoyed and I heard him say he could beat the price, offering to pay several hundred dollars more, but apparently the fact that no one from the store had helped her move the chest countered the lost income. Not to mention would save her time not having to fill out paperwork and wait for this guy before she could leave. I returned about 5 minutes later with the cash in hand and hauled off the chest I just brought inside back out to my car. Bringing over the bungie cords she had used and giving them to me as a ‘bonus with purchase”, she shook my hand and thanked me. I moved around to the driver’s door pulling out the folded page from my pocket as I went and got in the car. I had originally planned to go home and have my post workout meal but as I sat in the car looking at the unfolded page with the instructions for what to do magically appearing, I knew those plans had changed. Now, I have a couple stops to make.
  17. before starting this story I want to point out that he has fetish and violence, this is my first real story and I do not speak English, thank you for your understanding, I speak on behalf of the little person who looks like me. Chapter 1: the presentation your name is Quentin, you were 30 years old is loved muscular men and you were gay, but you were so shy that you have never met, you look only through pictures, you like their muscles that makes them dangerous because it looks like bullies , you often had dreams or muscular men forced to touch kiss their muscle before you crash, unfortunately you knew that in real life nobody does, because you could die or be disabled, but you continue to te masturbate while looking at pictures or videos imagining that he uses their muscle to crush you. You lived in roommate with 5 handsome males each had something special, He had Tom Tom was a 35-year-old policeman, He also had Eric Eric is a well-known footballer who makes girls crack like men. you also had Ben, a wrestler who was extremely hairy everywhere, because he loves these hairs because he could torture with these smells and sweat, it looks like a gorilla, even these buttocks were filled with hair which keeps some smell of farts, the hairs were deep and like a huge forest, he had several takes prefers like taking Cross Rhodes to make feel his armpit or facesitting to make his ass feel is sometimes he fart with facesitting, his wrestling outfit was a simple wrestling slip with boots like randy orton, he loves so much that he always stayed in his outfit and he never changed it. you also had David, a university student David was a tyrant, he likes these biceps and hurts his biceps, he also likes to be admired. If he sees that someone likes his biceps, he will show him very close, because it will hurt him with his biceps, once in school a guy asked him if he can touch his biceps, he accepted When he's finished, he stuck the guy's head into the biceps crack and then he flex hard to hear the bones in his head crack and the man screaming at the power of his biceps. the last roommate is called ridder Ridder was a porn star ttbm hardcord black. all these men always come back in their uniform, because he was obliged to wash them at home, so he leaves in uniform and returns in uniform except ridder who always stay at home, because he filmed these plans in this room, you fantasize on all your roommates when they are in uniform or not, but you were so shy that you try to look at them discreetly even once you have looked through the lock ridder make love through the lock, but what you do not know not all of these roommates were aware, so that from time to time he fucks little poses in the living room, the only thing you knew is that all 5 was very domineering and competitor is also all very brutal like tyrants, but for the moment he leaves you alone. Chapter 2: The divine intervention one day the god decides to have fun and especially to realize your dream, he throws a flash on the house that will change the lives of everyone in this house because everyone becomes invisible so no one can be dead and no blood , but everyone had something special, you had remained normal except that you were spongy that means you could be flattened and you take shape, ditto for the other direction, you can be enlarged but after you take shape but in all the cases you continue to have pain, but the other 5 have them a lot more because they had an unbreakable steel body, he also had a super-strength, with a one-piece tight-fitting suit, and he had all their body that had changed already it was all huge everyone was a little bigger than their penis and he was becoming like gods of muscle because he was very muscular and huge but everyone sees himself a little different, tom had a lot pecs more develop than the others, eric had thighs and legs more develop than the others, Ben had huge buttocks and much more develop and muscular than the others, David, as you can imagine, gets the biceps much more developed, very strong, very hard and muscular than the others, and finally ridder had eight packs like boards to wash super develop and a penis even bigger and longer and harder than the others. The only worry is that he had to eat more protein each person eat for 8 people, and he became more brutal and dominant, he also became a superhero, but he also continues their normal life except that he receives new outfits for their size and set aside because too dangerous even ridder spanked less plan because all these partners was too scared except you who at that time became their slaves and you were so small that they do not pay attention to you in the house and accidents happen often except that you do not mind. Chapter 3: Ben's accident by the time it happened you were sitting on the couch in the middle and Ben had come to sit on the couch when he develops these garment and boot get torn and falls to the ground and Ben loses balance on the couch, he does not notice your presence but see that the couch saw his waist and his ass was like a tight chair, he did not feel that you were stuck in his ass then he starts to laugh when he sees his ass Huge and enormously muscular, he wanted to test several things already he starts to scream and loose a huge stink bomb, for him it was funny because it stank a lot but for you who was in his ass was horrible, you try to screaming but these muscles mask the noise and in addition you could not even move because of the hairs then ben gets up and pats her ass and he feels that his ass was two ultra hard mountains, he decides to see that force and he squeezes all these forces her ass, you scream s pain until your bones crack then you finish flattened and Ben laughs again because he saw, because it was very strong except that these hairs hold you well in place, then ben turns to pick up those clothes tear on the he sees his ass in a mirror when he is bent over, he laughs again then he decides to see how and the depth of his ass he puts it open his ass in front of the mirror and there is a little mouth be, because he you sees in his ass still alive then for a minute he says "you are there quentin, I hope you enjoyed" and then he gets up again still in these buttocks he calls others when all 3 roommates were there he says "what did he do well" said with a smile "look who wanted to play" he bends to show you to the other and you could see that they were all smiling then ben get out of her ass and throw you in the middle.
  18. Preamble: A big thank you to @rolling24, who besides commissioning the following multi-part series and inspiring me with idea's, also made ton of spelling corrections and other improvements. Cheers! Index. (Click on the parts to be taken to them) Part 1 & 2: Below. Part 3 Part 4 Dad, The Homewrecker. PART 1: Despite our best efforts, some places on our globe remain shrouded in mystery, tempting us from afar with intrigue. Like, for example, the bedroom of a failing marriage. ----------- “Dad….” Luke called out meekly, intense pleasure shooting through every fiber of his body. Fuck. It was hard to focus while Macy was giving you a blowjob. Images of the bedroom formed a whirlwind in his mind. But his dad remained the one point of clarity, visible through the mist. While Macy was giving her husband a blowjob, Luke’s father was stretching open her pussy with great expertise. She was thankful her husband’s penis didn’t take up as much space as the equipment his dad packed, making it a lot easier to let out moans of pleasure. “Dad.” Luke tried again, his voice now rising above the involuntary crescendo of moans from Macy and the brutish grunts from his dad. His dad still didn’t seem to have heard him. Maybe the ecstasy clearly etched on his face while he fucked his latest conquest completely dominated his mind. Luke focused on his dad’s body again. The effect was unmistakable this time. He had to tell him. Through the smoke of bodily odors and sex he tried making eye contact with his father. He could see his brown eyes shining as their gazes met, on opposite sides of the same woman, his wife. His dad just pulled a smirk, cockily raising his right arm into a bicep flex. Of course, Luke didn’t need to tell him. He had probably figured it at himself at this point. Luke was mesmerized by the bicep flex, you could see it most clearly there. With the sound of his dad’s heavy balls slapping against Macy’s body as background noise, both men watched the already flexed peak slowly rise higher and higher, inches of brawn magically flowing into the muscle by the minute. The effect slowed as Luke’s Dad’s dominant humping tapered off. Son and father made eye contact again. “I’m fucking growing.” His dad said in between heavy breaths with a confident grin. Luke came. ----------- 48 HOURS EARLIER. “I’m a bad little cop. I can’t help but ogle all the hot secretaries, and I like toying with the bad girls I arrest.” A small uncomfortable silence lingered before the reply. “No, this is not it.” There was a little rummaging in the box of props. “Your scores are terrible, you only look at my bulge in class, but if show me your tits I might give you a passing grade…” This time the answer came much more quickly. “Nope, doesn’t do it either.” More rummaging in the box of props. “Girls like you shouldn’t mess with guys like me. We both know we won’t be able to cage our... Desires.” The replier hesitated for a moment, gently avoiding a hurtful comment. “I’m sorry Luke, I don’t think this is gonna work for me.” Luke seemed disappointed by the response, and he shoved his set of role-play props in the closet. Macy stood up from the bed and put her bra and underwear back on, dissatisfaction with the night’s results evident on her face. “Did I at least spark something in you?” He asked, while the couple was on opposite sides of the room, getting ready for another sexless night. Macy asked herself if the image of her chubby husband hanging over her, playing various roles, saying the corniest lines with the worst acting had ignited any arousal. “No,” she replied. Luke’s cheeks went scarlet. He had been so sure role-play would be the answer. He jumped into the bed and quickly covered himself up with the blanket, his belly jiggling wildly in the process. Luke stared at his wife while she prepared for bed. He knew most men would kill to have a wife as good-looking. She was voluptuous and beautiful, with an hourglass figure few women could emulate. A few years back they had been the resident power couple on their college campus, both of them sexy and virile. Him strong, muscular and wide, her curvy and enchanting. Now one of them was slacking, and it wasn’t the woman who looked like she hadn’t aged a day since college. It was the man who couldn’t resist a donut each morning, who ate through an entire tub of ice cream while waiting for his wife to get back from her modeling gig, who hadn’t set a foot into a gym since his days on the football team. “We can just try regular sex.” Luke proposed with an eager tone, desperate to please his wife. Macy gently smiled while she looked at her soft husband in bed. He tried his best, there was no denying that. “We already did so last night. I know about your stamina.” Macy quickly kissed him on the forehead. “Honestly, it isn’t that big of a deal, most women go without an orgasm for years.” “We’ll give it another whirl soon then, yeah?” He saw the unused strap on his wife had bought still protruding from the box of earlier discarded role-play props. The sight made him slightly uneasy. “What other option do we have?” she asked, while stepping into bed. And then the doorbell rang. -------------------------------- Luke opened the front door, ready to tell the idiot who thought it was a good idea to ring doorbells after midnight to go to hell. But the big shadow in the cold night air wasn’t just your regular old idiot. “Dad?” Luke called out in disbelief. He almost couldn’t believe the man standing in front of his porch was his old man, he hadn’t heard from him in months. “Lukey! Kiddo. Sorry to drop in on you like this at… 8pm? But...” “It’s 1:30AM.” “Right! 1:30. Just got back from a business trip from Hawaii. This gorgeous gay couple I was counseling was having difficulty finding the male G-spot so I---” “Look, my evening hasn’t been great. I’d appreciate it if you could just get to the point.” Luke said, with a face that confirmed he was pretty tired of his dad’s endless tales of the sex therapy he provided. “Riiiight... So, you know the girl I was dating?” Luke nodded, unsure what his father’s love life had to do with his sudden reappearance. “Welllll. She kicked me out. Turns out I hadn’t told her we were in a polyamorous relationship. Crazy how that happens. Anyways, I just need a spot to rest my head for a few days until I get an apartment.” Luke just raised an eyebrow in reply, hoping his dad wasn’t asking what he thought he was asking. “... I was hoping that spot could be here? I’ll sleep on the couch. Or on the floor. All the nearby motels are full, I’m kinda out of options.” Luke sighed in exasperation. He turned his head and stared at the starry night sky for a moment. Luke couldn’t look his dad in the eyes while he thought. He had to make a rational decision. Luke rather wouldn’t have dealt with his dad for another moment if he had any option, but he was family…. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. Come on in.” Luke said with a shrug, like the decision had been entirely out of his hands. There probably was some truth to that. Men like Luke don’t say no to men like his dad. As his dad stepped out of the night black and into the warm lighting of the house, part of the reason Luke preferred not to talk with his dad became obvious. Because where Luke was all soft and flabby with a thick layer of fat, any vestige of his college football body long past, his dad continued to have a body that radiated masculine energy to some extent. He hadn’t given in to his every whim as Luke had and it clearly showed. Matt looked good for a man his age. He had maintained his quarterback build from thirty years ago with a strict gym regimen. Even though he had a good layer of chunk covering him it was clear he still muscular and handsome. His dad couldn’t be faulted the unfortunate difference between them, but Luke always blamed him a bit for having to reside in his more muscular shadow. At least the few inches of height Luke had on his pops gave him a few coat hangers to hang his masculine pride on to. He couldn’t help but long for the college days when he dwarfed his dad with his own muscularity, but those days were now long gone. “Matt! It’s been too long!” Macy squealed while she ran down the stairs. Luke tried to not to blame his dad for his obvious ‘excitement’ upon seeing Macy. The way her rack bounced up and down as she rushed down the stairs was unintentional, but Luke could see how a red-blooded man like his father was aroused. The pair exchanged quick hugs, and Luke thought his dad’s eyes rested on Macy’s body just a second too long. “Did I just hear correctly you’ll be staying with us for the next couple of days?” She innocently asked. She had a certain shine and glimmer to her most people didn’t have at 2am, and her beauty contrasted sharply with her husband’s sunken and pudgy face. Matt let out a short uncomfortable laugh while scratching his mostly bald head. Luke was reminded with a grin how much his dad disliked being in anyone’s debt. “Yeah, Lukey was kind enough to let me have the couch for the next few days. I hope you don’t mind.” Macy quickly waved her hands in giddy excitement. “Of course not! We haven’t chatted in forever, it’s about time I got all caught up with my father-in-law. There are some blankets in the cupboard Matt, I imagine you’ll probably want to hit the hay.” Luke was glad his dad nodded and head towards the couch. He’d feel a lot better about having his dad strutting around his house if his wife wasn’t wearing her revealing nightgown. “We’ll catch up tomorrow dad. Good night.” “Good night kiddo.” ----------- When the couple was again tucked in, the events of the evening replayed in Luke’s head. Some part of him felt like he had made a terrible mistake. He’d put his foot down this time, and not let his father walk all over him. “This time will be different” Luke softly mumbled while sleep slowly caught up with him. He stretched out his arms and gently spooned Macy. His big body may fill him with self loathing, but at least it was good cuddle material for his wife. While he brought her in for a hug he noticed how tense her body still was. She was wide awake. “Everything okay hun?” Luke asked as he drifted further and further away. “Luke. Babe. We need to talk.” Immediately Luke was brought back to reality. He felt a bit anxious. “Alright,” was all he could mutter. “I’ve been thinking about my little… predicament. I know we’ve been trying really hard, but it feels like we aren’t getting anywhere, so II did some googling today….” Please don’t suggest strap on. Please don’t suggest strap on. Please don’t suggest strap on. “... And I think we should bring someone else into the bedroom.” Luke shot up in surprise. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that. He could get behind it though. Another sexy woman crawling over him, that’d be sure to finally be able to push his wife over the edge. “Who do you have in mind?” Luke asked with as much innocence as he could muster. He had his mind on their sexy, young neighbor girl. Her husband had been deployed for the past few months, and she looked horny enough to even fuck Luke, fat rolls and all. It helped she was always watching whenever Macy was sunbathing in her bikini. The thought of the two women making out was already flashing through his mind. Luke’s last attempt at eating out Macy had gone rather horribly but the neighbor looked like a girl who knew her way around those parts. “I was thinking Matt.” Luke’s blood turned ice-cold right away. “My dad?” he practically screeched in disbelief. “Calm down. Yes, it’s a little weird. But honestly, anything besides a guy isn’t gonna do much for me.” “Okay. Fair enough. But still, my dad?” Macy shrugged. “Do you know any other guy as sexually liberated as him? He has a fling every other night. One woman could not be enough for him. I want this to be a one time thing, and your dad is the only one I know who sees sex as just sex. Do you wanna get in some internet weirdo?” Luke had to admit she had a point. He couldn’t count his dad’s ‘girlfriends’ in the last month on one hand. Slowly, Luke felt his wife’s gentle and tender hands interlock with his. “Only say yes if you’re okay with it hun.” Macy softly said. But in her eyes Luke could see a certain kind of desperation. Their sex had been dull for months. He hadn’t heard her orgasm for nearly a year, and he was sure she had been faking it for a while before that. They used to go at it daily, even when Luke had turned into a blob, but Luke’s sex drive was slowly drying up while hers was still very much active. Luke couldn’t imagine the amount of hormones raging through her body, a woman like her needed to be pleased. “Okay babe.” Luke said with a gentle smile. The idea of his dad in the same bedroom as him, fucking the same woman, was still really weird to him. But Luke also knew it’d be good for her. He had heard the female orgasm was kind of like an engine, after a kick start it could be relatively easy to reactivate. And as unfortunate as it was, his dad was the best man for the job. And hey, maybe his dad wouldn’t even succeed in getting her off, wouldn’t that be a blow to his ego as self certified sex guru. The couple looked at each other and smiled. After one awkward encounter maybe their troubles could be behind them. Finally, after a long, eventful evening, Luke dozed off. “And whenever had a little awkwardness killed anyone?” He softly mumbled while the world faded to black. ---------------------- The events of the night before suddenly jumped back into Luke’s mind when he found his dad jerking off on his living room couch. First Luke calmed down somewhat while remembering that he had voluntarily provided lodgings to his dad. Then he was severely freaked out because his dad was lying completely nude and jerking off in his living room. He wanted to scream out but hesitated for a moment, the sight intriguing him. He could see why his dad was such a lady killer, he had the body to pull it off. Perhaps he’d was best categorized as a having the build of a coach, with thick juicy pecs and the faint outline of abs. All of it covered in a slight layer of grey fur. And of course, there was the thick cock he was jerking off in a slow rhythmic motion. Luke found himself a bit jealous of his dad’s member, because he looked to be packing an inch or two more than Luke. In fact, seeing his dad lay there say comfortable in his own skin flared up quite a few of Luke’s own insecurities. Luke stopped his pondering and brought himself back to reality. “Dad? What the fuck!” Matt didn’t seem the slightest bit dazed by the interruption of his son. “Hey Lukey! Morning.” He said, while not looking up from his jerking. Luke had prayed his dad had grown some inhibitions since they last slept under the same roof but that clearly wasn’t the case. He knew that sexual self-confidence was probably just as attractive to the younger women Matt slept with as his masculine body. It was annoying to deal with if he was your dad though. “There’s a bathroom upstairs. If you gotta take care of your morning wood, do it there. There you aren’t in the view of the neighbors.” Luke calmly explained, trying not to look while his dad let out a few more grunts of pleasure. “Alright. Alright. I’ll go do this out of view…” Matt smacked his hard member in his hands, the sound plastering a grin on his face. “Wanna join me? Often during therapy sessions I recommend guys jerk off with their friends, helps the bonding experience as well as activate…” “Normal dad’s don’t jerk off with their sons. Don’t be weird.” Matt let that hang in the air for a moment, considering if he should go with his reply. “Most dads don’t fuck their son’s wives either.” He said in an amused tone. Luke felt his blood turn cold. “How did---.” “Macy. She asked me if I’d be willing to fuck her as she left for work. I’m glad she did, it’s gonna be a reallll fun evening.” Matt said while slapping his son on the back with the hand he had just seconds earlier being using to jerk off with. There was a smirk on his face but it didn’t seem cruel, rather one of genuine excitement. Luke cringed and winced, but he was thankful he himself didn’t have to be the one asking his dad if he’d be up for the threesome. “Alright, I’m gonna take care of this.” Matt said pointing as his cock before bounding up the stairs with a confident whistle. As Luke heard the slapping of his dad’s balls between his trained thighs Luke reminded himself to kick him out as soon as possible. Probably the worst part of the jealousy that raged through Luke while he heard more grunts of pleasure emerge from the bathroom upstairs, was knowing his dad didn’t mean to make Luke feel bad. Matt had always been completely relaxed with nudity, his many, many sexual partners and countless hours of discussing intercourse in lecture halls had dissolved any restraint about sex and being naked. He didn’t mean to make his son feel bad about his fat and sexless body, but feeling bad was all that Luke could do while he compared himself to his more virile dad. Luke sighed, and hoped the eight hours of office work that were ahead of him would take his mind off things. PART 2: They decidedly did not. “Threesome?” He heard the snack lady ask while she strolled past his desk. Luke felt his blood turn hot. “What? No.... I wouldn’t do that kind of thing. Happily married. Who told you? My wife---” He stuttered and stumbled. How could she know? Did the whole office know? Did everyone know? Was his life over? Should he moved to Texas? India? The snack lady looked unfazed. “Tea, want some?” She asked again, shaking the kettle she had on her cart. Ah. He had just misheard. Shit. Luke mumbled something along the lines of ‘No thanks’ and she moved the cart along. He knew that mishearing ordinary conversation probably wasn’t an indication of confidence, yet still he didn’t feel like pulling out of the night’s upcoming plans. Part of that was desperation, part of it knowing there weren’t that many alternatives that didn’t tap into his wife’s fetish for fucking men with dildo’s, and part of it a certain….morbid curiosity. Luke’s phone buzzed with a text. It rarely did that. “Hon, grab some dinner near work and only walk into the bedroom at 8pm sharp. I want both my studs walking through the door at the same time. -Mace” Luke smiled a little, his wife could be one kinky fucker. And being called a stud made him feel a little better while chomping down a donut. --------------------- Luke quietly looked at his dad again under the dim light of the lamp. Matt’s handsome square jaw and stubbled face looked intensely into nothingness. Luke was reminded again of how much better his dad looked in his fifties than he himself looked now in his thirties. He tried not to let that bother him, especially as they were so close to the big moment. Both men were standing in nothing but their briefs, so Luke had ample time to scan up and down his dad’s body. He didn’t even look that great, but he carried that body with such confidence he didn’t need to be ripped like a model. “At least I’m not 5’9.” Was all Luke could think while he looked at his own belly with discontent. “Come on in boys.” Macy’s songbird like voice sang from the other side of the door. The two men quickly glanced at each other. Father and son. An unusual couple, but Matt had enough gentle warmth radiating about him that Luke felt somewhat put at ease. His dad was just treating this as fun. Luke reminded himself he should do so too. With a last nod of consent both men entered at the same time. Macy laid there, temptingly and tantalizingly nude with just a then sheet covering her exquisite body. She was a goddess. Luke suddenly felt bad that he’d never shared her before. Her figure was beautiful. They had been each other's first the initial semester of college a dozen years back an neither had been with anyone else. Luke placed himself in front of Macy’s ‘entrance’ and softly pushed his bulge covered in sagging tighty-whities against her. He had hoped the display would be a tease, but it looked more like he was just pushing his belly into her. “Lukey, baby, I want you up here.” Macy said with a wink and a gentle tap next to her head. Luke took his new position with a little unease. His wife stripped him of his unflattering garment, his cock jumping into the warm air of the room with eager excitement. Macy’s eyes were completely focused on Luke’s hard cock and Luke’s cock alone. Macy stretched out her hand and slowly jerked it, her small her hands making the average piece of equipment look bigger. Luke tried focusing on the way his wife’s eyes beautifully sparkled while she stared at the piece of meat in her hands. But he found his gaze alternating between his wife’s curvy form and his masculine dad, who was standing at the end of the bed. Matt’s gaze was firmly planted on Macy’s hot body, his big chest heaving while he rubbed his bulge through the fabric of his stylish and tight underwear. Luke thought he’d be a whole lot more weirded out by his dad standing there if he hadn’t seen him naked and in a state of arousal so many times. Seeing him slowly getting himself hard felt strangely… Normal. With a gruff his dad stepped out of his underwear into complete nakedness. Macy didn’t even look, her eyes were still plastered firmly on her husband. It was something Luke was thankful for, he knew how much of a thing she had for muscular guys, and his dad somewhat fit into that category. Luke wanted nothing more than for his eyes to roll back and to be lost in a wave of pleasure, but he couldn’t pull away from the sight of his dad preparing to enter his wife. Matt pulled out a condom, and rolled it onto his completely hard dick with a single casual hand and the expertise of someone who did it often. Luke felt jealousy burn in him again. Why did his shit genes not endow him with a thick seven and a half inch tool like his dad had swinging between his legs instead of saddling him with an average five and half? Slowly and gently his dad entered, without pause. Macy took it like a pro, her vagina was made for cock. Without even a glance at Matt, she directed Luke onto the bed and pulled his cock into her mouth, licking up the small drop of pre at the tip, savoring the taste. Luke felt like he was on top of the world, his model like wife giving him a blowjob with an expression of pure pleasure plastered on her face, undoubtedly because she had the honor of servicing his great cock…. Then Luke remembered there was another man inside of her, and he was much more likely to be the source of the pleasure. His feeling of greatness was shattered by the large silhouette of his father standing on the edge of the bed. Luke pursed his lips in dissatisfaction while he looked at the guy standing on the other end of Macy, a man with a trained physique and superior endowment, who Luke knew was much more virile than he currently was. Luke once again found himself not looking at his beautiful wife, but at his dad. Part of him hoped he could spot some secret technique that he could replicate to give his wife the pleasure Matt was currently providing. That would mean her new moans of pleasure weren’t just a consequence of a bigger, better cock. Then Luke spotted something awfully strange while looking at his dad’s silhouette. He knew people said sex is the best work-out, but he had never thought to take it seriously. His dad looked a little leaner than just a few minutes ago. Like he had burned a half dozen pounds. Clearly all of it had been fat, because the abs that were now on display looked great. His pecs looked a little deeper and square too. Luke was just about to comment on it when he felt himself going over the edge. It had come suddenly, but then it almost always did with him. He didn’t even get to shout that he was cumming before shooting his small dribble into his wife’s mouth. A wave of tiredness washed over Luke following the encounter. He always felt drained after sex. He threw himself back onto the bed. At first he closed his eyes as sleep always came seconds after he came. But the sound of Macy’s soft moans and his dad’s grunts were too overwhelming to ignore. “Now it’s just you that needs to come.” Matt said smiling while lifting Macy up in his arms. It was the first time that Macy really looked at her father-in-law while getting fucked by him and her faced showed she clearly liked what she saw. Matt increased his pace and depth, making Macy’s eyes roll back in their sockets. Matt closed his eyes as he drilled her, savoring the feeling of stretching yet another woman open. Luke was the only one aware of the remarkable scene unfolding while Matt’s cock continued to firmly push into Macy. Because it almost appeared as with every thrust his dad made, he seemed a little bigger than before. It’s effect was nearly unnoticeable, but due to Matt’s rapid pace he slowly seemed to inflate with the tiniest part of a pound. And it wasn’t fat, mind you, it was the most masculine of compounds. Muscle Luke could see that after ten minutes of continuously fucking his wife, his dad seemed a bit beefier. Proportionally more muscled. Luke didn’t think about how that was odd and against every law of nature he knew till the screams of pleasure from his wife suddenly dragged him back to reality. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck? Oh fuck!” Macy yelled out while experiencing an orgasm for the first time in forever. Her stiffened body loosened as she rode her wave of bliss into cloud nine. Matt gently laid her on the bed and pulled his thick cock out of her. He didn’t seem to have noticed yet that his arms looked just a tad beefier and more muscular than before. Luke bit his tongue. Whatever he saw, he assured himself, it probably wasn’t real. A trick of the light, or whatever. People don’t just grow, right? Matt looked at his rock hard dick. He still hadn’t cum, but he felt like he was just a few tugs away from exploding. He looked Macy directly in the eyes and then gave his baby maker a firm squeeze. “Fuck yeah.” He growled with a grin, while he shot his load into condom. Luke thought his dad’s dick looked just a hair longer than a few minutes ago, had he not been fully hard when he entered? Matt carefully peeled the tight condom off his rod, and looked at it cluelessly for a second. “You got a bin?” He asked. Luke stared out into the distance, the entire last minute feeling more and more like a dream and haze. He only registered the question had been aimed at him after a few seconds. “Oh! No. Just put it on somewhere on the desk.” Luke said with a slight, dismissive wave of his hand. He just wanted to catch some rest before he started seeing weirder stuff than growing dads. Matt shifted his naked weight from one leg to another in front of the desk, not certain where to put the stretched-out cum-filled rubber. He ended up hanging it over a picture so it wouldn’t drip out over the table. Luke wasn’t sure if he intentionally chose to hang it over a honeymoon photo, covering Macy’s face with the worn out condom. “Thanks for the fun and a great lay” Matt said as he winked at Macy with a chuckle. A girlish giggle from Luke’s wife was the only reply. “We’ll see you tomorrow dad.” Luke said, while firmly looking at the door. “Oh. Before I forget, Lukey. Mind grabbing me a tub of protein from the store tomorrow? I’m gonna be apartment hunting and super busy, but I’ll need some after my heavy lifting session tomorrow. Don’t want this body getting soft!” “Get your own protein. Dad.” Luke said with snark and sleep invading his voice. Matt’s eyes flared for a moment and Luke thought he had made a terrible mistake. He was fully prepared for a speech about what happened if you ignored requests from the better men in the world. The more muscular men. The more hung men. The men that fucked your wife. But such a speech did not come. “Good night, Lukey.” His dad said with a shrug. Luke looked at the variety of bodily fluids slathered over his wife’s puss. He did not feel like saying “Good night” back. -------------------------- Quietly Luke shut the door on his car. It was 6am and he had tried to be as quiet as possible while he had sneaked around the house. He had originally just wanted to sit in the living room and watch some TV till it was time to leave for work, but he had forgotten his dad had taken over the couch. So instead he sat in the car. The scenery was better too, because it was a place that didn’t involve seeing memories of his dad in every bit of furniture. Memories of his dad growing and swelling with muscl---. “No.” Luke mumbled to himself. He wouldn’t give in to spectral images just yet. People don’t just grow. He had to take his mind off things. He slowly kicked the car into gear, driving to the nearest 24H grocery store. Yet still images of his dad were all that filled Luke’s mind. His heavy breathing. His muscles slowly inflating with each and every thrust... Luke turned on the only piece of distraction he had readily available in his car, the radio. “...To close of the midnight show, here is Lizzo, with her hit new single ‘Juice!’." Luke wasn’t familiar with the tune but considering it was designed to be an earworm, it didn’t take long for him to sing along unapologetically loudly. “Ain’t my fault I’m out here getting loose.” Luke sang, while tapping on the steering wheel with his fingers. “Gotta blame it on the goose, gotta blame it on my juice baby.” The rhythm was infectious, and Luke almost forgot about the pickle he was in. Almost. Because while he waited for the traffic light to turn green, his mind conjured up strange daydreams and images. Daydreams that were more akin to remnant’s of nightmares. Instead of being in the car he suddenly found himself outside his bedroom door, peeking timidly into the room he had spent countless nights. The colours were hazy, washed out and vague, but what he saw inside burned into his eyes nonetheless. His wife was being held suspended in the air by one man’s beefy arms. Another big man was standing in front of her delicate body, stretching her passage wide open with his superior manhood. Luke couldn’t see their faces, but he didn’t need to, he knew who these men were. They were his worst fears personified. The fear that sooner or later his hot wife would get powerful men worthy of her delicious body. Luke felt sick. When he had first lost his football honed body to rolls of fat, this was a common nightmare for him. But he hadn’t seen it for a year or two. Had the threesome reawakened his anxiety? But he had consented to his dad’s participation, so why did he still feel so… Defiled? Luke felt his mouth go dry. Besides the deep horror, some of the vision inspired awe, he had to admit it. It’s in our human nature to love seeing the best our species has to offer during their most intimate moments, straight porn of guys with big dicks is popular for a reason after all. And jeez were these men and his wife perfect together. The man railing her was much bigger than Luke had been in his prime, with muscle cascading over muscle to form a thick and solid build that would be the envy of any man. His wives mewling sounds coupled with the juices cascading over her thighs, convinced Luke this modern hercules was big everywhere. Luke’s goggling was interrupted by a sudden sharp scream of pleasure coming from his wife. Luke knew it was all a daydream but it certainly sounded very real. He made eye contact with this dream version of the woman he was married to. Her mouth formed into a cruel grin, and she opened it to speak. But the sound that left her throat wasn’t the voice of Macy. It was the voice of Lizzo, singing her new hit single. “Ain’t my fault I’m out here getting loose. Gotta blame it on my juice. Gotta blame it on my juice. Gotta blame it on my juice. Gotta blame it on my juice. Gotta blame it on my--- HONK Luke jumped awake again with a startle. The traffic light was green again, and clearly the people behind him wanted to get on with their day. He quickly pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, rubbing the temple of his head trying to figure out where those strange dreams kept coming from. ------------- Even when he pushed his shopping cart through the isles there wasn’t much else Luke could think about. He threw in some croissants, breakfast was his favourite. He passed by the tub of protein his Dad had requested. He halted for a moment in front of it. He could be the rebellious little devil and disobey his dad’s request, but there was no harm in helping him out, just this once, right? He threw the tub of protein in his shopping cart. While he did so he felt a strangle electric shock travel through his body. Luke clicked his tongue and pulled his face into a frown while an uncomfortable thought lingered in his mind. He suddenly thought hadn’t been daydreaming or experiencing left over nightmares at all. It was something more powerful. More primal. Not just a simple conjuring of the mind, instead it was a warning. A word of caution. An exhortation. Luke felt a chill travel through his spine while he sought the exact word to describe the alien feeling. A premonition. ------------------------------------- Continue to part III
  19. Hey Everyone, With the new forum rules, I decided to consolidate "The Muscle Sandwich" and add a new chapter to the story! Let me know what you think The Muscle Sandwich: Part 1 Alex sat nervously on his bed eager with anticipation knowing that what he was about to experience would change his life forever. Alex had always been a short guy growing up and once he reached 5’1”, he just stopped growing. In addition to this he had always been pretty frail and couldn’t surpass 100lbs no matter how hard he tried. Never the less, Alex had just finished university and started working in a pretty decent job when he heard the horrible news, his uncle had passed away. His uncle John and him had always been pretty close and they would often spend time together when Alex was growing up. John had no kids and was the first person that Alex had opened up to about being gay. John admitted to Alex shortly after that he was gay as well and they found comfort in the bond they shared. When John passed away, Alex was pretty devastated and it took a while for him to get back in to the swing of things in his own life. A few weeks after John’s death, his lawyer had called to let Alex know that John had a left a sizeable amount of money in his will to Alex with special note from John. After the money had been transferred, John’s lawyer delivered the note to Alex in addition to the paperwork. Once Alex had calmed himself down he began to read note, “Dear Alex, To you I leave this modest sum of money in the hopes that you will spend it on yourself and truly enjoy it. I know you have been busy with work and school and haven’t allowed yourself much time to enjoy some of the finer things in life so I hope this sum of money will grant you that. I know you mentioned to me that you had always fantasized about having a wild time partying but just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. So as my final words I implore you to take a bite out of life and experience something unreal.” Alex had started to cry about half way through the short note but vowed to himself that he would honour his uncle’s wishes and do something amazing with the money. A few weeks later, Alex was looking at different all-inclusive trips to tropical locations online but nothing seemed to really stand out at him as a ‘once in a lifetime’ experience. Sighing with his unsuccessful searches, he busted out his cock and began to search for some porn online. Alex had always been in to really big and muscular guys and would often jerk off to porn featuring them. His favourite scenes included ones where the big, muscular, dominant top would absolutely ravage the small bottom in all positions. He also really enjoyed muscle-worshipping videos where men would kiss, grope, touch, and feel bodybuilder’s muscles and get off on them. Surprisingly enough, he had never found a video or website which did a really good job of combining both of those fantasies but he supposed it was very niche. While searching for a suitable video to wank off with he came across an ad on his favourite muscle-worshipping website. It read, “Tired of jerking off to the same old thing? Want to have a truly unforgettable experience? Try the real thing with a bodybuilder escort!” Never the one to click on online ads, Alex just couldn’t resist and clicked anyways. He was intrigued to learn more about what the ad was talking about with real muscle worship. The ad took Alex to a bodybuilder escort website which featured a whole host of very large muscular men who were available for sex, muscle worshiping, feats of strength, and more. As Alex read on he got more and more excited at the prospect of living out his fantasies with a huge muscular man. He started looking at all of the profiles of the bodybuilders before he had stumbled upon the largest man on the site. The profile read: Name: Colt Height: 6’10” Weight: 400lbs, all muscle Cock Size: 12 inches Favourite position: You, in my arms with your ankles over my shoulders while I stand and use you like a fleshlight to jerk off my huge cock. Into: Muscle worshipping, feats of strength, wrestling, fucking Special: Try me with my hot friend Ox, my gym buddy and some say ‘twin’ for a truly unforgettable experience. The profile did not have any pictures and very little information outside of the original description. Alex was absolutely convinced that this is what he needed in his life. He has just gotten out of a pretty bad relationship and was ready to use his uncle’s money to hire Colt and live out his fantasies. The contact form on the website was blinking at Alex and had the words “HIRE ME!” With a shaking hand and a much anticipation Alex filled out his contact information and with a moment of hesitation, mentioned that he would like to also hire Ox. He poured all of his fantasies and desires on the page and hoped he didn’t seem like a lunatic to the two. This was by far the most expensive option on the website but Alex had made a promise to himself and to his uncle that he would have an unforgettable time. After closing his eyes and hitting the ‘submit’ button, he was told by the website that he would be contacted by the escort shortly. The next week Alex was a nervous wreck. He spent that time being extremely anxious at work and second-guessing his decision. On a few occasions, he very nearly tried to call the whole thing off and was unconvinced if Colt and Ox had even existed. After all, there were no pictures in the profile and Alex had never heard of bodybuilders that were as large as they claimed. After a week Alex received an email from Colt. He immediately stopped everything he was doing at work to read the email which had a simple note “Is this what you want?” Alex was confused until he saw that there was a picture attached and when he opened it he very nearly creamed his pants on the spot. It showed what he guessed were Colt and Ox standing close together facing one another. They were both very tall and extremely muscular in what he guessed to be someone’s house as it looked like their heads were nearly scraping the ceiling. Then Alex took a double take and noticed something sandwiched between the two. In the center of this pair was what looked to be an average sized man, his feet dangling a foot off the floor and his whole body nearly obscured by the muscle squeezing together to hold him up. Neither Ox nor Colt were holding on to this unnamed man, he was just being held up by their two immense bodies coming together. Alex completely lost it at this point and involuntarily came on the spot. He responded as quickly as his fingers could type, “Yes Sir, I want to worship Ox and yourself and have you use and abuse me. Please fuck the ever-loving shit out of me and never let my feet touch the floor. Yours faithfully, Alex.” He hit reply and a response came shortly afterwards. They were directions for Alex from Colt, which read: You will take the next week off to prep yourself both mentally and physically. You will fly Ox and I out to your place at the end of the week. You will have the greatest 3-day weekend of your entire life. You will continue to be a slave for muscle for the rest of your natural born life. After this email, Alex made all of the necessary preparations. He made sure he was neatly groomed, had enough food in the house to feed these two gigantic men, and just waited with nervous anticipation. Finally the day had come. Colt and Ox were flying in, in the morning and were being transported by a prepaid limo to Alex’s house. As he sat nervously on the bed he heard a car roll up in to his driveway and made his way to the door to answer the resounding knock on the door. When Alex opened the door he was at a loss for words. Before him stood two of the biggest Muscle Gods he had ever seen, both in real life and online, in his entire life. Colt and Ox both smiled like the Cheshire cat. Looking way down at Alex’s 5’1” self the one in front said in a very deep and masculine voice, “This is going to be good.” He then proceeded to effortlessly lift Alex up with his hands underneath his armpits and walk through the threshold of the entrance. Alex’s mouth was agape and quietly said a prayer to his uncle John. This was going to be unforgettable.
  20. "Fucking Rhett," Jake muttered under his breath. He didn't want to be on this camping trip. He wasn't what you would call "outdoorsy." This whole roughin' it thing wasn't for him. But Jake was really bad at saying no to Rhett. Standing 6’1” and built like a college football player, Rhett was the quintessential guy next door — neatly-cropped blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a square jawline every guy envied. Jake wasn’t half bad looking himself, but he was no Rhett. Jake always considered himself average, but in doing so he downplayed the subtle charm of his boyish looks, tan skin and tousled brown hair. Shorter at 5’9”, you could tell he missed a few days at the gym. He was by no means fat or out-of-shape... in fact, compared to the general population he looked pretty dang good. Jake was just a little soft in the middle, lacking defined muscle tone. "Straight skinny, but gay fat" as the saying goes. This was evident whenever the two would go to gay clubs: it was very apparent who commanded attention on the dance floor. Jake’s relationship with Rhett was complex: they had been best friends since college, but Jake secretly harbored two somewhat contradictory feelings that complicated things: an unhealthy amount of jealousy over his buddy’s good looks—jealousy that was also underscored by a heavy and pervasive lust for his friend. For years, he had fantasized about undressing the studly Rhett, ripping off his tight shirt to reveal Rhett's perky pecs and hard-earned cobblestone abs. When they worked out together it was all he could do to not pop a boner. Just seeing his friend sweat, his muscles bulge with striations as he pumped iron on the bench press was enough to put him under a spell. A spell strong enough to convince him to say yes to a camping trip he *really* didn't want to go on. At Rhett’s insistence, the boys had set up camp near the entrance to a ravine at the base of the Snokeridge Mountains. It provided some shelter from the wind, but the creek had dried up for the season and the closest water source was a slow-flowing river a half of mile from the camp site. The boys had spent their first day hiking to the spot, setting up the tent and then fishing by the river. Even after fishing all day, Rhett had only caught a small little trout; barely enough for one person, let alone two young men who had been hiking all day. “Jake, why don’t you take the fish back to the site and get a fire going. It's not much, but we can eat it with the hot dog buns I brought," barked Rhett. Rhett was in charge of food, which was a mistake considering he's not great with details. Hot dog buns? Got it. Relish? In the cooler. Mustard? You bet. The actual hot dogs? Forget about it. "Sure thing," Jake snapped back, an attitude in his voice. As he went to pick up the fish from the shallow pond Rhett had dug to keep it fresh, Jake tripped and fell head first into the river. "Goddamit!" he yelled, soaking and shivering. He quickly snatched the tiny fish and did an about face toward the mountains, avoiding eye contact with Rhett. "Hey dude, it's not a big deal. The fire will warm you right up," replied a chuckling Rhett. Ticked off by the long haul back to camp and Rhett’s lack of planning, Jake began stomping his way back to camp. Sopping wet and getting colder by the minute, Jake heard his stomach growl. Starting the fire, cleaning the fish... it would be at least an hour before they were ready to eat. "For fuck's sake, I'm never doing this again." About two thirds of the way back to camp, Jake stumbled across a small clearing. In the dead center of the clearing sat a small berry bush standing peculiarly by itself. It stood perfectly straight as if the main branch grew at a 90 degree angle from the soil. Its striking foliage was an interwoven mix of bright green and maroon, and it made a perfectly cylindrical topiary — which was quite odd to come across in the wilderness. It reminded Jake a bit of the perfectly-coiffed rosebushes from the old Alice in Wonderland movie, only there were no flowers for the card soldiers to paint red for their queen. Though odd, it was enchanting. There was no other word for it. Jake approached it carefully, though he didn’t know why. No one was around for miles. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the small bush only produced a few dozen berries, their iridescent purple sheen almost glowing on the branches. He had never seen such brightly colored berries in his life. *gurgle* His stomach growled again. “So hungry...” complained Jake out loud. But they could be poisonous, he thought. What was that old limerick we learned at nature camp? White and yellow, kill a fellow. Purple and blue, good for you. Red, something, something, dead? Jake looked at the berries again. I’ve never seen a more purple shade of purple, truly, he thought. With that, he quickly plucked a handful of berries from the bush, ignoring his normally-reticent instinct and surrendering to his increasing hunger. “Here goes nothing,” Jake said as he downed the handful in one fell swoop, the juice dripping down his fingers. The taste was sweet, but tinged with a heavy musk. It wasn’t bad, per se, just odd. Either way, it satiated his hunger (albeit briefly) and he decided to continue on this journey back to camp, puny little fish in tow. Jake could tell he was nearing the ravine because he entered a familiar thicket of trees. All of a sudden his stomach started making a different kind of noise. This time it was a low rumble instead of a gurgle, and was accompanied by a sense of warmth that he could only describe as prickly. It slowly started to spread across his body. "Oh shit," Jake exclaimed out loud, worried that he had in fact consumed poison. There must be some kind of antidote in our first aid kit, he thought. When I get back I’ll just take it preemptively and hopefully... "Ouch!" Jake's head had hit a branch, odd given that he had been careful to clear the branch just a minute before. He went to rub the goose egg quickly forming on his crown but he realized something felt off with his hands. The warm prickly feeling intensified. Bringing his hands into his line of sight, he noticed the berry-stained fingers on his right hand thickening and lengthening before his eyes. Not to be outdone, his left hand did the same, fingers puffing up into large, masculine digits, the palm of his hand increasingly resembling a large catcher's mitt. "What the fuck..." stammered Jake, thinking perhaps that hallucinations were confirmation that he had poisoned himself. Just then he noticed how tight his boots were. Like painfully tight. Sitting down to remove them, he tugged and tugged at the leather hopelessly trying to free his cramped feet from their prisons. With labored breathing and a surprising show of force and strength, Jake managed to extricate his left foot from the confined space. He was too late for his right foot. *rriiipppp* A large big toe poked through a rip in the leather, followed by two more toes as they lengthened before his eyes. Soggy, threadbare socks strained until the pressure was too much and they too gave way. He couldn't believe what was happening but he welcomed the relief felt by his now-free feet. The prickly feeling intensified, spreading inward from his feet and hands. It was then that Jake noticed his clothes felt tight. His pants appeared to be painted onto his skin and his crotch was... cramped. His nipples, erect from the cold and excitement, poked furiously through the fabric of his wet shirt. His usually modest chest felt rounder, thicker, sturdier than before, jutting out ever just so yet proudly over his torso. Running his hands across his torso revealed a surprise: no longer did he feel soft in the middle. While Jake couldn't feel abs, his stomach was firm and taut. Excited, Jake jumped up quickly to get a look at himself but his quick ascent from the forest floor resulted in his head smacking into another branch. It suddenly dawned on him that he was growing taller. "Holy shit, I’m getting bigger," he uttered in disbelief, rubbing the knot on his head. Jake's large, meaty hands felt foreign to him, as did the thick forearms they were attached to. Rubbing his hairy arms, he was surprised to feel firm biceps, the hardness surpassing any pump he had ever gotten at the gym. He could feel them grow larger, bulging outward and testing the elasticity of his shirt sleeves. Another branch graced Jake's hair. He had to move before he gouged out an eye. It must have been the berries, Jake thought and turned back toward the clearing he had just left. His line of vision, now higher by at least a foot, was dizzy and caused him to stumble clumsily out of the thicket. Away from the trees and in the bask of the evening sunlight, he surveyed himself. Though he could tell by the growth was slowing, he had to be nearing 6'10". The new vantage point startled him, but he wasn't complaining. He had always wanted to be taller. It dawned on him that he was now significantly taller than Rhett. Jake's body—despite being larger and more muscular than just minutes before—still paled in comparison to Rhett's finely-honed physique, but he was happy to have at least one advantage on his friend. As if on queue, Rhett stumbled into the clearing with two fish in hand. "Jake?! What the hell happened?" he stammered in disbelief, dropping the fish on the ground. "I, I don't know man," replied Jake, realizing that his voice had deepened in tone. "I was really hungry, like really hungry, and I know it's stupid to eat things in the wild you know nothing about, but I just couldn't wait for dinner tonight..." he rambled. "So I just ate a handful of these berries," pointing to the bush. "Jake, what a stupid thing to do. But why are you so tall? And big? I... I don't understand," babbled Rhett as he rapidly looked Jake up-and-down, a look of sheer confusion on his face. Truth be told, Jake was liking this new dynamic. For once, Rhett wasn't in control. "Dude, I think the berries did it. I've never seen berries like this before. After I ate them, a warm feeling spread across my body and I started growing. The berries, they like, shine on their own. Take a look," replied Jake. Rhett walked over to the bush, and eyed the berries suspiciously. Jake was right, these were unlike anything he had ever seen. He looked back at Jake and then at the berries once more. A devilish smile spread across his handsome face. Jake immediately regretted telling Rhett about the berries. Jake finally had something he had wanted for ages: an edge over Rhett. He was significantly taller than Rhett, and stronger than he'd ever been. He felt alpha towering over his friend and loved the feeling. If Rhett ate even just a few berries, he would quickly surpass Jake in height and his already studly body would grow and harden into god-like proportions. He couldn't allow that. Rhett reached out to pluck the last remaining handful of berries from the bush. But Jake was too fast. Owing to his now larger limbs and increased strength, it was just a matter of seconds before Jake had tackled Rhett to the ground. "What the fuck, man?!" shouted Rhett, taken aback. "You've... always been... the bigger one," huffed Jake as he struggled to pin down the shockingly strong jock. "I'm... not going to... let you have this on me again!" "You're already... a giant. I just... want... a berry or two," Rhett growled, fighting back. "I want to be... big too!!" The dynamic shifted again and he flipped giant Jake onto his back. However, Jake had a height advantage and used it swiftly. Maneuvering his long legs, he pinned Rhett's torso and flung him on his side. Firmly planting a meaty hand on Rhett's chest to hold him down, he reached his other arm toward the bush and ripped off the branch with the few remaining berries. "For years, it's been Rhett-this and... Rhett-that," hissed Jake. "For ONCE, I'm going to be the center of attention. I want... other guys to lust after ME." "Jake, you're being fucking unreasonab..." Rhett started to say, flailing his arms in vain. "I won't let you have this, you can't have this on me," Jake snarled, years of pent-up jealousy dripping from his lips, a black fury in his eyes. "Jake, don't, just let..." Rhett started to say, but Jake was too quick. He popped every last berry from the branch into his mouth, chewed once and swallowed them en masse. "FUCK YOU," screamed Rhett, as he summoned the strength to break from Jake's firm grasp. Rhett wound his arm back and *WHAM* punched Jake square in the chest. "What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Rhett screamed as he lobbed another blow, hitting Jake in the abdomen. Jake wheezed and toppled back onto the ground, caught off guard by Rhett's swift motion. "You couldn't just let me have one, dude?!" Another blow to the stomach. Jake coughed and sputtered, but then suddenly lay still. "It's happening," Jake spat out between coughs, the warm prickly feeling spreading across his body. "It's happening." Rhett stepped back, not sure of what would come next. Spread out on the ground, Jake's body quivered. First came the feet. The right boot, tattered though still clinging onto his large foot, exploded from all angles as both of Jake's feet doubled in size. Hands grew slowly at first, and then quickly, doubling in size as well. Legs thickened as pound upon pound of muscle packed onto Jake's frame. His pants, fighting a losing battle, gave way to powerfully thick thighs. Arms lengthened sharply, the sinewy veins of his muscles becoming more apparent by the second. Wider and wider his back spread, lats reaching insane proportions and causing his shirt to tear in several places. Jake's tight lower back was lifted from the soft grass and it quickly became clear why: his ass was growing wide, thick, hard and firm. White underwear, dirty from the forest floor, clung on for dear life. Stretched out not only by his increasingly huge bubble butt, Jake's cock stirred to life. It too had grown to match his body and quickly stood at attention, jutting out like a tower, 90 degrees from the beast's growing frame. Thick, juicy abs formed as his torso lengthened and grew hard. His body was becoming nothing short of incredible — the impossibility of his increasingly-giant frame aside, Jake was filling out nicely. He looked like a hardened wrestler and was quickly on his way to becoming an amateur bodybuilder. Rhett couldn't believe what he was seeing. "I, I... don't... what is this?" he stammered, realizing that while scared of his rage-fueled friend, he was also a little turned on by the whole thing. "I'm getting fucking huge!" yelled Jake, sitting up and tearing away the remains of his shirt. "I can feel it, I'm going to be HUGE." Standing up, it was clear that Jake was well over 8' tall. Taller and taller he grew, inching up higher as the muscles of his body reverberated with growth. "Look at me!" he commanded Rhett as he rubbed his inflating pecs. "Look at what a fucking stud I'm becoming!" He laughed maniacally as he reached down with his large hand and with one swift motion ripped off what remained of his underwear. Fondling his balls (now the size of grapefruits) with one hand, he used the other hand to stroke his massive cock. Despite his incredible size of his hands, he could barely fit his mitt around the thick, red member which was spewing pre-cum. Rhett, now sporting a full hard-on, stood there in disbelief. He was now staring directly at his friend's naked body, eye level with his torso and unable to process that it was Jake who stood before him. Jake was lost in the overwhelming pleasure he was getting from stroking his insanely-large cock. He snapped out of the haze when he realized the prickly feeling had stopped and he was no longer expanding in size. With his hand clasped firmly around his cock, he stood massive in the clearing nearly 9' tall — a mountain of a man with bulging muscles everywhere you looked. An sly grin spread across his face. "Suck my cock, Rhett," Jake demanded. "Whaaa... Jake, I don't wa..." Rhett stammered in reply, stepping back. "I don't give a fuck what you want. And your puny little cock is giving you away. You want this," Jake bellowed, pointing a fat finger toward his cock. "Besides, do you really want to piss me off?" Jake took a step toward Rhett, placing his inhumanely large hands on Rhett's back and shoving him toward his pulsing member. Rhett, understanding the predicament he was in and admittedly more turned on than he'd ever been, opened his mouth wide in anticipation. Jake's cockhead, red and angry with a need to release, was the size of an apple and leaking with pre. There was no way his mouth would fit around the swollen glans. "Oh, come on, Rhett. You've been with plenty of guys. You should know how to suck cock properly," Jake taunted. "I cguamph fuiiut iith inh myei..." Rhett tried to spit out the words, his mouth full. "Use your hands, little guy," Jake continued, abruptly shoving Rhett's head another inch onto his massive member. Rhett reached out and started stroking the giant cock. It quivered with each stroke. Jake moaned — deep, guttural and animalistic. He didn't care if anyone heard the noise; he was a god now. "Fuck yeah, Rhett. You're... my little bitch now. How... ohh... does it feel... *grunt*... to be the little one?" Jake stammered between moans. It was clear he was getting close. Rhett was scared. If he could barely fit half of Jake's cock in his mouth, there was no way he was going to be able to swallow his load. He would choke. Rhett was sure it would be massive. He had to think quickly. He reached up and tweaked Jake's large nipple. It was clearly sensitive because Jake started bucking his large hips. Squeezing the cock another inch into his mouth and working it with his tongue, he bobbed up and down and used the other hand to fondle Jack's huge sack. This drove him over the edge. The cock quivered again and the balls tightened. Jake was about to shoot. Before he could unload, Rhett used both of his hands to give one final stroke and then pushed himself off and away from the quivering cock. Jake exploded. "AHhHhhhH!" he yelled in ecstasy as rope after rope of thick cum spewed from his cock. His balls pulsated quickly as he wildly unloaded volley after volley into the clearing, each spurt completely coating large patches of the soft grass. Rhett shielded his face with his arms but could still hear as pump after pump of the thick, creamy jizz landed in the grass around him with a soft and muted plop. With a look on his face that could only be described as somewhere between euphoria and bewilderment, Jake collapsed to the ground. Panting and still dribbling cum from his half-hard cock, he lay there unable to process the explosive orgasm he just had. A few minutes into the daze, he closed his eyes and dozed off to sleep. Uncovering his face, Rhett looked around and was immediately overwhelmed. He too passed out from the shock. The soft grass caught his fall and he was out like a light. As night fell, the two slumbered peacefully next to the bush in the clearing — Jake exhausted and spent from his growth, Rhett stupefied and unsure of what to make of the day's events. Puddles of cum surrounded them, slowly seeping into the ground. An owl hooted peacefully as the moon shone brightly above. ********** Morning light broke and Rhett jerked awake. Images of his friend Jake growing into a behemoth passed through his mind. Still in shock, he was sure that the events of the previous day had just been a weird nightmare. His jaw, however, still hurt from the night before. There's no way, he thought. Turning over, his worst fears were immediately confirmed: the giant form of his friend lay peacefully on the other side of the bush, a slight snore and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was fast asleep. Rhett sat up and his eyes caught the berry bush. He wished it wasn't barren so he too could grow giant and give Jake a taste of his own medicine. Surveying the clearing, it appeared the puddles of cum that had pooled in patches across the grass had disappeared overnight. However, in the dim dawn light Rhett could just make out something peculiar in their place: little seedling shoots sprouted across the clearing, their fledgling stalks a striking mix of bright green and maroon...
  21. He threw the trophy to the floor. The muscular head smashed off the figure and the plastic plinth it stood on smashed into pieces. “Second place? Second fucking place” - he knew he’d been robbed. Years of hard work, early mornings in the gym, the diet, the sacrifices ... the roids. He knew he was worth more than second place. He stood in the bathroom backstage, his body pumped, vascular and as big as it had ever been. Wearing only his deep red posing trunks which struggled to hold his leviathan back, he scanned his body. His pecs were full, round and a huge deep crevice between them dripped with sweat. Quads were massive, smooth and pushed his cock forward making it seem even bigger than it was. He looked good and he knew it. Ever since he’d taken up bodybuilding, he’d become sexually aroused by his growth. With every new growth spurt, it had sexually charged him, pushing him to want to add more size. He’d no need of a partner because looking at his bull like reflection turned him on - self worship was all he needed. He lifted his hulking arms up into a double bicep. The veins bulged like newly laid cables. He couldn’t resist - his tongue found the peak and it explored every inch. Next - down into a most muscular. “Fuck” he thought - “I’m a fucking GOD”. With that, the leviathan awoke. Uncurling itself from its sleep, his bulge grew bigger and bigger “yes, fuck - look at how big I’ve become” he roared. Now at full mast, the posing trunks could hardly contain the granite structure it held. His fingers and thumb felt along the elastic strap of the trunks, it was stretched to its capacity. His thumbs now under the strap hardly needed any help as he pulled them away from his body. The elastic gave way and his monstrous cock smashed against his abs. The posing trunks fell to the floor, ripped and ruined. Now totally naked he could explore his body further. His left hand slid down across his ridged steel abs to where his fingers could cup his avocado sized balls while his thumb stroked the heaving sack. His right hand grabbed the shaft and it began rhythmically stroking his member. His fingers rubbing the ridge of his mushroom while his thumb coaxed the precum from the slit. His body was tanned, huge and he knew he should have come first. He didn’t even notice the door to the bathroom close - he was too intent on worshipping his body. “What the fuck are you doing mate” - a voice called from behind him “This is a public bathroom - you fucking freak” - the voice continued. He couldn’t hear him - his body was all he could focus on. The voice came closer “Hey mate fucking stop that - that’s ..” But that’s as much as the voice said His left elbow smashed backwards into the guys jaw - momentarily leaving the comfort of his ball sack. The trophy the guy was carrying fell to the floor. He turned, naked, pumped and a mix of horny and angry. “Why the fuck they gave you first place ill never know” he said With that, his right hand stoped the rhythmic pumping of his cock and now in a fist - it hit him on the guys right cheekbone making a cracking sound as it did. Almost defiantly crushing the eye socket. The guy fell to the floor, catching his posing trunks on a door handle as he went, tearing them from his body. Writhing in pain, blood pouring from his cheek and nose, the guy was now naked and unable to move. “And that’s what you call an excuse for a dick?” He said staring at what looked like a prepubescent cock. “I’m bigger, I’m stronger and my dick is superior to yours” He stood over the guy in a most muscular pose, a string of precum from his abs to his cock. His right hand in a first again and this time it landed square in his already damaged jaw, cracking it as it came down. The guys tongue lolled out of his mouth, unable to speak, half dazed, half dead. The mighty bodybuilder was slain. He knelt down next to him, his throbbing cock in need of fulfilment. He took the guys head in one hand and with the other, fed his snake of a cock into the guys mouth. Now in a squat position and his member in place, both hands took control of the guys head. He forced it into and out of the guys mouth. Thrusting it with immense power and strength. Feeling the broken jaw cracking and being in control of such a huge muscular man, turned him on. His dick swelled with pleasure, knowing he’d now had taken out his opposition. The guy gagged and feebly tried to stop the rhythmic movement of his cock - but failed. He turned and looked in the mirror. Seeing the guy slumped on the floor and how his massive body had conquered it made his balls tighten - he was ready to unload. As if sensing it, the guy made a final attempt to stop him from ravaging his mouth - but failed. A hot stream of protein and roid cum pumped into the guys mouth. The guy began to choke. but this only spurred him on. Deeper he thrust his member, making sure the guy got one final and privileged protein shake before he died. Anabolic cum spewed into the guys throat and he was unable to resist. The guy inhaled and began to choke. With one final spurt it was over. He withdrew his satisfied cock and wiped the remainder of his cum on the guys cheek. He stood up and placed one foot on the guys chest. With a deep roar he pushed his foot down, his arms in a double bicep pose - the guys ribs cracked under his immense size and strength. The guy was finished, he’d taken his last breath. He looked in the mirror. He was victorious at last - as it should always have been. He walked over and picked the guys trophy up from the floor - it was his now and now the competition had been taken out - nobody else could stand in his way. He was the ultimate human being, a superior bodybuilder, a true muscle god.
  22. Part two to Trey's growth, like last time I'm gonna warn you that This story will contain a bunch of my fetishes. I'm not sure exactly where it will go yet though. I do know that it will include incest, macro, muscle growth, straight to gay, and musk. If any of those offend you, this won't be the story for you. After the wonderful sex with James, Trey sat worried on his couch. In his efforts to grow big fast, he didn't even begin to think about how the rest of the world would see him. But James's comments about work brought him back to reality. His dad would be home from his own job shortly, and would be expecting to see the short shrimpy boy that Trey formerly was, not the grown, muscular man that he had turned into. Trey began to walk to the bathroom, his now large soft cock flopping as he walked. He examined himself in the full body mirror. Now standing approximately six feet tall, Trey looked nothing like his former self. His body was strong and defined, and covered in hair, a sharp contrast from his twig like frame. On top of that, his face looked different too. Well, he thought to himself, not exactly different, just more... mature. He still had the large brown eyes and Roman nose, along with his larger than average lips, but the face itself was different. No longer round and boyish, he now had a strong jawline, and had lost any remnants of baby fat on his angular, chiseled face. He stared at his body again, realizing that he was exactly the type of guy he would have gone for. If anything, maybe a little small. His cock started to harden, from a soft 4 inches to its full, nine inch mast. I can't believe I'm getting hard at my own reflection, Trey thought to himself. But he couldn't stop. He was so damn horny. Trey grabbed his large cock in his meaty paws, and began to jack off. For the first time in his life, Trey used two hands, instead of his earlier two finger technique. His hands stroked up and down his thick tool, and played with his big bull balls, as he slowly stroked to erection. On a whim, Trey pinched his own nipples. A jolt shot through his body as his cock jumped. Damn that feels good he moaned, and continued to stroke. Trey felt an orgasm building as he rubbed his hairy chest with one hand and frantically jerked his cock with the other. His cock was leaking precum like a faucet. Finally, he couldn't hold it any longer. With a loud moan, Trey shot all over the mirror. Eight strong spurts of cum ran down the mirror, as the final shot trickled down over his inflamed cock head. Suddenly feeling self conscious, Trey cleaned up the mess with a towel the best he could, and headed to his room in order to find something to wear. Unsurprisingly, nothing fit. Trey tried to cram his body into the small clothes, but everything either looked ridiculous, tight on his body and unable to close up, or it just ripped from the strain of being put on. With that, he headed to his father's room. Trey's father had been the polar opposite of Trey. Standing at 6'2” and 210 lbs, the beefy construction worker was all man. The only thing that they had shared was a name, Trey being actually Raymond Warren III. Ray, the former football player had kept in great shape as the years went by, and only a slight gut and graying hair belied his true age, 39. Trey threw open his father's closet and began to look for clothes that would suit him. Giving up on finding anything in his style after a quick glance, he finally settled for an old college t shirt, slightly too small for his father, and a pair of jeans. With that, he heard the garage door open. Trey panicked and began to throw on the clothes. The jeans were slightly baggy on his muscled frame, but he couldn't find a belt. He began to slip on the shirt as he heard his father enter the house. “Trey, I'm home. You there?” the bear of a man called in through the door. “Yeah dad, I'm just in my room,” Trey yelled back, not remembering his deeper voice for a second. He quickly ran through the hallway into his room, shirt still half on. “You sound funny, boy. Are you getting sick or something?” His father asked from the kitchen. “Yeah I think so,” Trey finally answered, thankful that his dad had given him an out. “Anything I can do to help?” Ray asked. “No I'm good.” Trey responded, feeling guilty. Even though he and his father weren't alike in either size or in interests, his dad was great. After Mrs. Warren ran off when Trey was a baby, the two of them had been together, with his dad, who while encouraging Trey to play sports and be active, never seemed upset that Trey had been more of a band and chess club kind of kid. He also took the news of Trey being gay shockingly well, even if he did follow up Trey coming out with saying that he had thought Trey might be “a homo or something.” But he had immediately redeemed himself by hugging his son and saying he'd love him no matter what. Trey sat back in his bed and thought about what to do. He couldn't avoid everyone he knew forever, but with his new body, he'd barely pass as the old Trey. He sat on his bed and realized he was still sweating, massive stains beginning to show on the pits of his father's t shirt. There was a knock on his door. “I brought you some soup, sport,” his father said, as the doorknob began to turn. Trey shuddered, there was no avoiding what was going to happen. At that moment the door opened, his father took one look at the stud on the bed that had been Trey, and gasped, dropping the bowl to the ground. “Trey... Is that... you?” His father finally asked after a period of uncomfortable eye contact. “Yeah dad,” Trey responded. “I'm finally a big guy, huh?” Ray just looked at his son. “This is insane. You're all grown up.” He stared at the bulging muscles under the t shirt. “And you look so strong too.” “Like I said,” Trey answered, “something weird happened.” “Should I call a doctor?” “No I think I'm fine. Just sweaty,” Trey answered. “And I don't have anything to wear.” Ray looked at his son, wearing his baggy clothes. He admitted to himself that his son would look much better in something less baggy, that showed off his new definition, then wondered quickly where that thought had come from. “Well in that case, why don't we clean up this soup and then I'll make you a real meal. You must be starving. We can head to town tomorrow to get something new for you to wear.” “Sounds great dad.” Trey answered, and then climbed out of bed. His dad and him together began to mop up the soup, and sweep up the broken glass. As he stood in close quarters to his dad, the pheromones began to do their work, not that Trey noticed. But he did notice their effects. His dad seemed to have a raging erection. Trey pretended he didn't notice. After they finished cleaning up, he told his dad he needed to take a shower. Ray agreed, and said that he'd make them dinner while Trey washed up. In the shower, Trey soaped up his body. He wondered to himself if all the sweat was a side effect of the pills, or just his body growing. Either way though, he was covered in it. As he cleaned himself off, his cock began to get hard again. He thought of his father's erection at his body, as he began to jerk off. Trey sat in bliss, jerking his meaty tool until he was brought back to reality by a call from the kitchen. “Dinner's ready son,” his dad's deep voice yelled out. Trey groaned and painted the shower wall in his thick cum. “I'll be down in a minute,” he responded. After washing off the cum, Trey came out of the shower. He toweled his body dry when he realized his mistake. The only clothes he had near him that fit were covered in sweat. Wearing just the towel, he walked over to his father in the kitchen. “Hey dad?” he asked. “Can I borrow something else to wear? Nothing of mine fits anymore, remember?” Ray stopped what he was doing and stared at his sons body. Out of his clothes Trey was even more impressive. With his massive, hair covered pecs leading down to a treasure trail lined six pack, and the large biceps on display, his son was a true man. His eyes shot down, seeing the prominent bulge in front of his sons towel. His own 9 incher began to make his pants tent out. He must have been staring for quite some time because his son asked again, “Dad can I borrow something to wear?” Ray shook his head and came to. “Sure son, just pick anything from my drawers and set the table. I need to go to the bathroom.” Trey went up to get dressed as his father made a bee line to the bathroom. The room smelled like musk and cum, no doubt from Trey's previous actions in the room. He sat down on the toilet and took his own thick cock in his hand, and, for the first time in his life, jacked off to the images of a man. His own son, no less. Trey came down and set the table, wearing a pair of jeans from the back of his dad's closet and another old t shirt, he had finally found something that almost fit him, if it was hilariously out of style. But clothes were clothes at this point he thought to himself. His father came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, seeming flustered and a bit embarrassed. Trey didn't notice, however, being more concerned with stuffing his face with the burgers his dad had made. “These are great.” Trey commented, his mouth still full of food. “Glad you like em, sport,” Ray answered, stealing glances at his son as he ate his own burger. “I knew you'd be hungry after all that growing.” Four burgers, countless fries, and a salad later, Trey stopped eating. Ray sat at the table with his son, as they began to talk about their respective days. Ray related a story about his manager at work, while Trey talked about his day at the mall, and what happened when he grew, sparing his dad the details of the store front and the sex with James. His father looked intrigued. “What exactly sparked this random growth spurt?” he asked his son. Trey decided to come clean. “Well, I found these pills, and they made this happen.” Ray looked shocked. “Steroids? Even those don't work this fast.” Trey shrugged. I don't know dad. All I know is I took more than I was supposed to, and then this happened.” Ray still sat there, his mouth open. “I could show you if you don't believe me,” Trey said after a long pause. Ray was torn, part of him knew that this was a bad idea, that his son had already grown so much so fast, and any more could cause some real problems. Another part of him, a newly awakened part, would very much like to see his son grow huge and grow fast. The new part won out. “Go ahead Trey, he said, “Let's see this thing work.” Trey smiled and grabbed the jar of pills from the corner of the kitchen. Grabbing two pills and popping them in his mouth, he washed it down with a glass of water. “Last time it worked pretty fast,” he said, “so if you don't mind I'm gonna take off these clothes.” Trey's father more than didn't mind, the mere idea of seeing his son naked was very exciting to him all of a sudden. “Go ahead sport.” Trey stripped off his clothes, and stood naked in front of the man who had raised him. His soft cock sitting nestled in his prominent bush, hanging over his big balls. Ray's own cock was throbbing in his pants, and the show was yet to begin. First, Trey's frame began to stretch out, growing about four more inches, surpassing his father's own height of 6'2”. Then his body began to fill out. First his biceps, expanding from merely 15 inches around to an impressive 18 inches. He was beginning to look more like a lineman than a linebacker, as his pecs also expanded, growing hard and powerful. His nipples truly pointed down now. His six pack hardened further, becoming like defined bricks on his tight stomach, as his quads and calves expanded to become those of a hardened weightlifter more than a soccer player. His body hair grew thicker and more defined as well, becoming like a carpet across his pecs, and coating his abs, but not to the extent that they hid the definition. Then the last muscles in his body expanded. Trey's balls stretched to the size of tangerines and hung low in his sack and his cock began to stretch even farther. Soft now it had to hang six inches. As a final touch, his jaw became even more square, and grew from stubble to a short beard, maybe two days' growth. His body was covered in sweat by the time his growth slowed to a stop. “It went kind of like that, dad,” he said to his shocked father. Ray wasn't hearing a word of that. But the deeper voice sent him over the edge. He came hard in his pants, leaving a large wet stain. “Trey...” he moaned. “That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” Ray smiled as he said it but still seemed embarrassed by the fact hat he was so turned on by his son. Filled with lust and remembering the effect that he had had on his friend, Trey smiled. “You haven't even seen the best part yet,” Trey said, as he began to flex. Striking the double bicep pose from earlier, his thick armpits became exposed. His father felt the effects immediately and began to get hard again. The pheromones filled the air, and Ray became overcome with lust for his stud of a son. He stood up and walked over to Trey, before asking, “May I?” Trey smiled, knowing exactly what his dad wanted. “Yeah dad, but let me see you first.” His dad grinned at the idea, and stripped down himself. Ray wasn't bad looking either. His small gut from drinking too much beer was covered in the same salt and pepper black hair that lay thick on his head, and his visible pecs had the same coating. His own biceps were large, but not as big or defined as his son's had become, and as he stripped off his pants it became apparent just how turned on Ray was by all of this. His own, nine inch cock was throbbing, with the slightly upward curve causing precum to run down the underside. Below that hung a nice pair of testicles, almost as big as his own sons had become, which sat atop thick thighs and strong legs, more those of a man who worked for a living than gym-built muscles. Trey was insanely turned on by his bear of a father, and his cock throbbed to its new length of 12 inches long and as thick as a beer can. Seeing this caused Ray to be pushed over the edge. His cock gave one final throb, and then he shot his load, coating his sons furry abs in his cum without even touching his cock. “I'm sorry,” Ray said. “Let me clean that up.” Ray leaned forwards, and began to lick his own load from the hairy muscleman's sweaty abs. He still didn't know why he was doing this, knew it was wrong to be doing to his son, but too turned on to care. He began to lick and suck on his sons chest, going up and chewing on the nipple and licking at his thick armpits. Then he began to lick down Trey's body. All Trey could do is groan as his father had his way with him. He stood there as his father's tongue gave his body immense pleasures. His cock, too, was throbbing without being touched. “Hey dad,” he said, feeling cocky. “You're missing my best muscle.” With that Trey jacked his cock a few times in his hand, before letting his dad take over. His father took over immediately, giving Trey's cock the same lavish attention that he had given the rest of his jacked body. He'd take the cockhead in his mouth, and play with it with his tongue, before removing it and licking up and down the sides of the hot dick. He'd occasionally take a break from the cock entirely to start to lick and suck on the huge balls and play with Trey's muscular ass. But he'd always return to the cock. “Oh shit,” Trey moaned, “I can't take much more of this.” Ray smiled, and grabbed Trey's ass, pushing as much as the cock down his throat as he could. About six inches were down Ray's mouth when he decided to put his son over the edge. He stuck a single finger in Trey's muscular ass, feeling his son's prostate. With that Trey shot his massive load. Ray moaned as he tried to suck down the whole thing. Although mouth of his son's load made it down his throat, it was too thick and came out too fast, and he drooled cum down his chin and onto his own pecs. He stood up, and looked up at his son. “Fuck that was great” he said, his rock hard cock straining as it brushed Trey's leg. Ray looked down at himself, and wiped off some of the cum. He licked it up. “Let's keep going in my room,” Ray said to his son, clearly not feeling uncomfortable any more. Trey couldn't agree more, and followed behind his father, watching his hot ass as they walked, thinking of the pounding he was going to give it. Little did they know, the drugs coursing through Trey's body caused a powerful effect on men when they are consumed, especially in the form of semen. ******************************* So I've decided to write a bunch more parts, because honestly writing this story made me horny as hell, and it got a great response last time. I'm not sure how much yet, but I can assure you you haven't seen the last of Trey's growth.
  23. Hey guys. Patrons answered my August poll with wanting more pandemic-type muscle growth stories, so I'm starting a new series! Should be fun Enjoy The Bodybuilder Pandemic: Prologue Ground Zero - The Bathhouse Another warm and bothersome Saturday night, thought Harvey Wiggins as he slunk around the gay village downtown. He had tried to work up the nerve to enter a bar, maybe chat up a guy, but he never got further than the front door. He instinctively reached for his phone, checking for any notifications. Just as instinctually he opened grindr and felt a tiny burst of excitement upon noticing he had a couple notifications. His excitment faded, nothing exciting, as per usual for Harvey Wiggins. He kicked at the pavement as he walked along. It wasn’t that he was unattractive, he had been told that he was ‘cute,’ even ‘handsome.’ But what he really wanted-what he longed for-was for someone to find him irresistably, bone-shakingly, earth-shatteringly hot. The type of man that people take creepshots at the gym or that made people nervous to approach (though they would approach). He sighed, he would never ever be that man. He was just Harvey Wiggins. Good at his job (marketing for a large department store downtown) and with a small but close circle of friends. He was healthy and fit, though his physique didn’t really show it, and relatively happy. If he was being honest with himself, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about. And yet... He felt like he was made for more. He rationalized this by assuming that everyone had this feeling, a gnawing dissatisfaction with their life that they tried to plug up with love, sex, or material goods. He glanced at his phone again and repeated the grindr-checking ritual. It appeared that love and sex, at least for the night, were off the menu. He looked off into the distance towards where his apartment was. A nice building close enough to the gay village so that he could go on lonely walks like this one, and far enough away that he had plausable deniability for coworkers. Ah yes, there was that problem too, he supposed. When he landed his job in marketing his boss, Lenny Stamp, had hit the ground running with what Harvey called ‘locker room talk.’ It started with the cashier girls that worked in the store, and after a couple years of working there Harvey had heard comments about almost every woman in the building under 40. He neglected to come clean with his boss and was still deep in the closet to his coworkers. Oops. Harvey heard a door squeak open and felt a puff of warm humid air hit his face. He looked up. *Steampipe: Sauna and Gym*. After years living near the village Harvey had never stumbled on the bathhouse before. He wanted to go in, but he hurriedly walked by. Curiosity flaired within him. He rolled his eyes and backtracked, only to once again walk by the heavy metal door. He stopped, took a deep breath, and then walked back once more. He gulped, in the case that someone might see him he didn’t linger outside the door, he entered quickly and quietly. He made his way to the front desk, his heart thumping uncomfortably in his chest. The attendant was friendly enough and before long Harvey was stuffing his clothes in a locker and wrapping a towel around his waist. His locker key hung off a bracelet next to a little plastic pig with a flashlight in it. He turned this on and off, not really wanting to know what it was for. He initially felt self-conscious about his lackluster body. No muscles, little hair, and a slight layer of fat; harvey was the walking definition of average. But he soon realized that most of the other men milling around looked the same or worse and this helped him ease up a little. Harvey’s senses were assaulted as he wandered the halls. A wiff of weed there, a hand on the ass there, the occassional eye candy as well as whatever the opposite of eye candy was... But nobody really stood out and he began to grow bored and frustrated. He took a seat in a dark corner and fondled the little pig on his bracelet. Judging by the moans and groans somehwere closeby someone was having a good time. Harvery heard the sounds of heavy wet footsteps slapping down the hall. He looked up. Passing by him in the shadows was a behemoth of a man. Wide shoulders that almost spanned the entire width of the hallway tapered down to a densely muscled bubble but, tree trunk legs, and powerful calves. Harvey’s jaw dropped a little. Now that was a man. He looked up at the man’s face as he passed. Handsome, rugged, a short beard framed it. But his exression... The man seemed dazed and somehow shocked, looking even more surprised than Harvey was. Must have been a really really good fuck, he thought. As usual, Harvey let his nerves get the better of him and decided not to follow the bodybuilder through the labrynthine hallways. Maybe he’d bump into him again later, maybe not. A door near him opened and shut. More heavy footsteps. Another man strolled into view. This one was even bigger than the last, and absolutely covered in a dense pelt of hair. Harvey’s swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. This was... Unexpected. He looked around. It was just Harvey and the hairy mass of muscle in this particular hallway. He steeled himself and got up. “Hey man.” Harvey’s voice sounded weaker than he would’ve prefered. His hands felt clammy. The big man slowly turned to face him, Harvey recoiled a bit from the wild look in his eyes. “What do you want? He asked, not unkindly. He sounded almost nervous. “Uh, what?” “I don’t want any trouble. Just want to get home...” The man’s eyes widened and he gulped hard as his enormous hirsute chest twitched and flexed as he talked. He absent mindedly rubbed it with a meaty hand. “Oh okay, sorry to bother you.” Harvey said, feeling more confident but also confused. The big man quickly turned and walked away. Harvey smirked as he noticed the man using the typical bodybuilder waddle, his legs were too big to walk normally with. Big but weird, he thought. Suddenly Harvey was proppelled forward and toppling to the ground. Something hard, and heavy, and warm was falling with him. “Sorry man!” A thin nerdy voice rang in Harvey’s ear. Harvey opened his eyes to see a pair of massive veiny quads and a straining jockstrap package in his face. For a brief moment he almost considered licking the swollen package, but the other man shifted, almost kneeing Harvey in the face. “Sorry, sorry!” “It’s okay,” Harvey groaned. “I didn’t see you there.” The two men began to untangle themselves. The bigger one-Harvey had realized he was MUCH bigger-was having a hard time of it. He moved his bodybuilder proportioned body awkwardly, as if he was new to being massively muscle-bound. “My name’s Bjorn.” “Harvey.” “Well nice to meet you Harvey! Sorry for crashing into you.” Harvey got up and regarded the bodybuilder skepticallly. The big man’s voice reminded him of the nerds that used to get picked on in school. He even had a bit of a lisp, and yet he looked like 300 lbs of pure, hard muscle. A thin dusting of hair covered his squared pecs and densely cobbled abs. His legs were absolutely enormous, almost putting his upper body to shame. With thick and defined quads and blocky calves, Bjorn looked like he could squat a car. Harvey’s attention slowly rose back to the heaving package at Bjorn’s groin. How could he not? It too, was massive. “Oh sorry,” Bjorn blushed fiercely. “I guess bumping into you got me a little excited.” He tried to adjust himself but it just made things worse. The round pink head of his cock popped out of the pouch proudly. “Dammit,” Bjorn whispered to himself, blushing harder. “Dude, it’s okay.” Harvey felt emboldened by Bjorn’s awkwardness. “You’re in a bathhouse.” He suddenly felt very confident as his considerably sized member began to swell. “You’re a big boy eh?” He said, pointing to Bjorn’s crotch. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I’ve always been big down there.” He looked at Harvey with suddenly panicked eyes. “But I’m not used to being big elsewhere.” He whispered this to Harvey, as if it was a forbidden secret. “I mean, do I look big? Muscular I mean.” “Are you serious?” “Yes! Tell me.” Bjorn’s voice, thin and nerdy, sounded so wrong to Harvey coming out of that massive body. “Get out of here. You’re a tank man. You must know that. A competitive bodybuilder or something.” Harvey looked Bjorn up and down, wondering if the big man actually had no idea how huge he was. He decided to add, “I wish I had even a quarter of your size.” With each word Bjorn’s expression melted a bit more into some mix between horror and fascination. He spoke quickly and quietly, sounding more confident but still somewhat pathetic to Harvey’s ears. “Something’s going on... What’s your name?” “Harvey.” “Something’s going on Harvey. I don’t know what it is, but it’s BIG. Literally... I’m not a bodybuilder. I’m a computer science major over at the university. I don’t even know what the inside of a gym looks like.” He stared hard at Harvey, wondering if the smaller man believed any word of what he just said, skepticism was all over his face. He needed someone to confide in, to help him. Not someone he knew, that would be mortifying, but someone neutral. “Will you help me?” Harvey looked at the big man quizzically. Even if he didn’t believe that Bjorn had somehow become huge overnight, he did believe that Bjorn believed it. Maybe he had a head injury from the fall. Maybe he was on drugs. It was probably drugs. Regardless, Bjorn was Harvey’s dream. From the oversized muscles to the slab of meat he was failing to keep concealed in his Jockstrap, how could Harvey just tell him to get lost. It would be unconscionable. “Okay, I’ll help you.” Bjorn visibly relaxed, even smiling a bit. “Oh thank god. I don’t know what’s going on here, but...” He looked around, suddenly very conscious of where he was. “Uh, do you want to get out of here?” He looked down at Harvey with bright green eyes and Harvey felt himself melting a bit. “Yeah, I know a good waffle place near here.” Bjorn’s eyebrows arched and he placed a hand on his blocky abs. “Ooooh, that sounds amazing. I’m starving.” For more like this and to continue the story please follow me on Patreon
  24. bbmikenj

    m/m The Interview

    The intercom on his desk phone buzzed, and Tom Beck, the office manager, picked it up. “Mr Beck,” said his secretary Anna, “your ten o’clock interview is here.” “Ok,” said Mr Beck. “But why are you whispering?” “Well, he’s sort of an unusual candidate,” said Anna, still whispering. “Unusual in what way?” “His attire is a little odd, and he’s…he’s kind of a giant.” Mr Beck chuckled to himself. Anna was prone to exaggeration, and being a tiny woman, everyone seemed big to her. The first time he’d met her, her first words were, “My goodness, you’re huge!” At 5’10, 225lbs of pretty solid muscle, Tom certainly wasn’t small, but huge was a word he would not have applied to himself. “Go ahead and send him in, Anna.” “Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tom stood up at his desk as his office door opened. Even with Anna’s warning, he was not quite prepared for what he was seeing. The young man walking thru the doorway had to turn almost sideways to fit his vast shoulder spread into the room. Tom sized him up at a good 6’6” and at least 350lbs of muscle. He came across the room and extended his hand to shake with Tom. “Hello, Mr Beck. I’m Marcus.” As they shook, Marcus’s hand engulfed Tom’s with his beefy palm and sausage sized fingers. “Hello Marcus. Have a seat.” Marcus sat down, and made the office chair he was in look like it came from an elementary school. He was wearing a short-sleeved white dress shirt and black pants. He had a narrow black tie on, but it was loosened, and his top collar button was undone, giving his 24” neck some freedom to show. His huge arms strained the short sleeves, and his big chest strained the shirt buttons. His thighs stretched the gabardine fabric of his pants till it looked thin and shiny. His shirt pocket had a pocket protector in it. He looked like a monster nerd. Tom picked up Marcus’s resume and looked it over, giving himself some time to compose himself. He realized how Anna must feel around people so much bigger than her. It is intimidating just being in their presence. He saw that Marcus had graduated top of his class, and had been captain of his college’s weightlifting squad for all four years. “As you know,” Tom started, “we are a small marketing company representing mostly sportswear businesses and supplement companies, along with some gym franchises and weightlifting wholesalers. It helps to have a sports or fitness background when dealing with our clients. You certainly look like you keep yourself…fit.” Marcus laughed. “Does it show?” he said, then bounced his pecs under his white cotton shirt. “Geezus,” stammered Tom. “I gotta ask, Marcus, just how much do you weigh?” “385lbs this morning,” Marcus answered. Then he flexed his arms into a double biceps shot. The sleeves of his shirt got pushed back as his peaks rose up and up. As they swelled higher, both sleeves ripped. “Damn,” said Marcus. “another shirt ruined. Guess that’s what happens when your arm pass twenty-four inchs, Mr Beck. You like?” Marcus knew muscle lust when he saw it in someone’s eyes, and he was going to milk it to the max. “Holy….”said Tom. “Yep,” smirked Marcus. “ And they just keep on getting bigger. You wanna see my chest, Mr Beck?” Marcus stood up, his huge frame seeming to fill the office. “Why don’t you come over and unbutton my shirt?” Marcus undid his tie and tossed it aside. Tom knew he shouldn’t. He knew. But he stood up anyway, his heart pounding hard. He couldn’t stop himself. He was mesmerized by so much muscle mass right in front of him. He made his way around his desk. Marcus turned to face him, towering over him. “Go ahead,” said Marcus, thrusting his massive chest outward. As Tom reached up for a shirt button, his forearms grazed along the white fabric, feeling the solidness of the protruding pec slabs underneath. He undid one button, then another. The shirt had no choice but to spread open wide, and Tom could see a tattoo on the massive young man’s chest. He undid a third button, and the shirt opened up enough for Tom to see a big “ALPHA” tattoo, all in black ink, across Marcus’s upper chest. Marcus smiled as he saw Mr Beck soaking in his tat, and his swole chest. “Sixty-eight inches of chest and lats, Mr Beck.” He reached down and unbuttoned the remaining buttons, and spread his shirt open, exposing his powerful roidgut. Even though swollen and rounding out, his abs still showed through his tight skin. Marcus flexed his gut muscles and made the ridges deepen around his thick 8-pack. “Oh my god,” said Tom, as he stepped back and leaned against his desk. “Am I ‘fit’ enough?” asked Marcus. “Not too bulked for ya?” “No, no, not at all.” “Here, help me take my shirt off, I’m in the middle of my bulk, so it’s getting harder to maneuver this mass.” “Holy…” said Tom. He walked over behind the massive Marcus and reached up to his collar and started pulling it down. They both struggled to work Marcus out of his shirt, and Tom looked in awe as more and more of the massive landscape of rolling muscle was exposed on Marcus’s huge back. Finally free of his shirt, Marcus shook out his torso, and his muscle seemed to expand even more, and filling the office with the musky scent of testosterone. Tom was able to get his first look at Marcus’s backside. His huge glutes were mounded thick and high, making his dress pants tight as a drum. “God,” said Tom. He put one hand on Marcus’s big back to steady himself. “You ok, Mr Beck?” “You’re hired,” said Tom, feeling just how hard and thick the man’s back was. “What was that?” “You’re hired,” he repeated. “Yeah? Just like that? You haven’t even seen my legs yet.” And with that, Marcus turned to face Tom and began flexing his quads inside his dress pants. The fabric stretched so tightly that Tom could see the veins running up and down Marcus’s huge thighs. “Let’s talk about my salary,” Marcus said. And he flexed hard enough that front of his pant legs started to tear down the middle. “I’ll double it,” stammered Tom, staring at the pants as the swelling quad muscle pushed its way out. “That’s what I like to hear,” said Marcus. Then he shredded his pant legs with his huge muscles. Then he forced his big roidgut out, and the buckle on his dress belt snapped apart like a cheap plastic toy. He then sucked his gut into a deep vacuum pose, and his pants slid down his 37 inch quads and onto his shoes, exposing the black poser he’d been wearing underneath. He stepped out of his Italian loafers and what was left of his pants. “You’re looking a little pale, Mr B,” said Marcus. “If you think I’m big now, just wait until I’m well over 400lbs.” Then he started posing, hitting flex after flex, turning and showing Tom his back double bi, his lat spread, then turning back around and hitting side chest shot, then a most-muscular. Tom gasped at each pose, and his left eye was twitching as he watched the superheavyweight new hire swell with size. “Speaking of which,” said Marcus, continuing to flex, “I’m going to need a pretty big office…” “You can have this one,” said Tom. “That’s mighty big of ya, Mr B. You know, you look pretty jacked up yourself. I used to be as little as you, but then I graduated high school.” Marcus moved toward Tom, until his huge chest was only an inch away from, and level with, Tom’s face. “Suck my nipples, Bossman.” Tom didn’t need to be told twice. He went to work on the big nip jutting out of the huge pec. He put his hands on the bigger man’s pumpkin-sized delts, feeling the thin sheen of sweat coating the rock hard muscle. He sucked and sucked on one nipple till it was engorged. Then he moved to the other side. “Ah, yeah, you got a hot mouth, Bossman. I knew it the minute I walked in here. We’re going to make a great team.” Marcus pulled his new boss mouth off his teat, and went and picked up the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. He wedged the top of the chair underneath the doorknob of the office door. “But first, we’re going to break in my new office,” he said, stepping out of his poser and snapping it at Tom like a rubber band. It hit him in the face, and Tom held it there, breathing in the musk. He reached over and hit his intercom button. “Anna,” he said, “hold all my calls for….” He looked at Marcus. “The next two hours,” said the naked bulked superheavyweight.
  25. muscleaddict

    AJ & Noah

    This is my new story I've been working on. As usual, I'll be posting it both here and on my "Muscle Addicts Inc" blog. It follows muscle addict, Noah Cook, who is back at his parents in the small town he grew up in over his summer break from uni. A few weeks in he bumps into his old school friend, AJ Jones, who is now a competitive juniour bodybuilder with ridiculously huge arms and massive muscle tits that bulge underneath his work shirt! The pair then start to rekindle their friendship over the course of the summer. This story references every bodybuilder from my "Charlie's Secret" story, so if anyone read that one, you might recognise a few names! I've also been working with a really amazing illustrator who's doing some illustrations of the characters and designs for the story. They're more for my blog, but I'll share here too when they're ready! ? AJ & NOAH Prologue I don’t think I’ll ever forget the first time I saw AJ Jones. It was the first day back at school after the summer holidays. There was a sense of excitement amongst my classmates. Not just because everyone was seeing their friends again, but because, for the first time ever, a new boy was joining our class. I spotted him standing in the middle of the playground looking completely lost. He was shorter and smaller than all of the other boys in my year group. He had brunette hair. Green eyes. And he was nervously chewing on the sleeve of his purple school jumper. I really didn’t know what it was about this boy, but I was transfixed. It felt like the whole world had turned to black and white and he was the only thing left in colour. I knew two things in that moment; that AJ Jones was special, and that I wanted to be his friend. I had no idea at the time just how special he’d end up being. One I've often wondered what goes through the mind of a bodybuilder when he’s standing on stage in competition. Thick slabs of muscle bulging off his frame in every conceivable direction. His obscenely developed body parts like balloons of muscle that have been pumped and blown up to an unreal degree. All shrink wrapped in dick thin skin which struggle to contain the sheer mass underneath. Each body part separated by lines, rips and cuts the majority of humans don’t see on their bodies in a lifetime. His whole body painted dark bronze and polished with oil. Not one single hair below his neckline. Completely naked except for a minuscule, thinly strapped, brightly coloured posing pouch. To some, the most grotesque and horrifying image in the world. To others, the most erotic. So erotic the mere thought, let alone the image, of is enough to cause ejaculation. What must it feel like to be one of the most muscular men on the planet? To look down and see nothing but excessively huge mass? To see two enormous plates of pec muscle hanging over thick, blocky abs which burst through your stomach? To see gigantic sized quads with muscle separation you’d normally only see on images of anatomy charts? And just how big of a rush would it be to flex and show off your superhuman slabs and mounds of muscle as an audience of hundreds before you ogle, marvel and stare at your freakiness? As I lay on my bed with my laptop open in the bedroom I’d grown up in, watching a video of Blaine Holton, one of the biggest and most well known professional bodybuilders in the last five years, flexing on stage in a guest posing spot, all of those questions were running through my mind. What did this absurdly handsome, square jawed, thirty-something American bodybuilder feel when he was standing at the edge of a stage flexing his impossibly huge biceps for a cheering audience of non muscle freaks? Pride at what he’d achieved by pushing his body to unspeakable limits and building his biceps to twenty plus inches? Power at the knowledge that he was the biggest and most muscular man in the room? “Noah …” And what did this two hundred and fifty plus pounds muscle bull think when he cranked out an abs and thighs pose on stage and looked down at his own inhuman physique? Was he freaked out by the mounds of crazily detailed mass staring back at him? Turned on, even, by the bronzed painted lumps and bumps of thick, freakish muscle and shiny, posing trunk covered bulge? Did he ever wonder whether he’d taken his physique too far? Or was he so accustomed to seeing the image of his own huge muscle that he felt absolutely no different to what the average built person saw when they looked down at their body? “No-aaaah …” And just what was going through the mind of one of the world’s best bodybuilders as he walked off the stage and made his way through the audience of fully clothed, average built spectators, hitting poses and flexing his muscles as they gawped and stared and frantically took pictures of the spectacle before them? Did he realise how many of them would have loved to be in his shoes, even for just one minute? Did he wonder how many of the audience members before him would have loved to get their hands on his ridiculously developed muscles? Was he drunk with power, basking in the glory of being a roided out muscle freak? Or was he dying to flee the theatre so he could be all alone and spend the night staring at his own freakish creation in the mirror, whilst squeezing, touching and worshipping every inch of his insanely shredded, beyond human slabs of muscle? “NOAH!” ARGHHHH!! I slammed down the lid of my laptop, sprung off my bed and opened my bedroom door. “WHAT?!” I yelled in frustration. Whenever I went back to my parents, I always resorted back to being a teenager. Wanking off to bodybuilders in my bedroom and shouting at my mother. Often for no, or very little reason. “I just want to ask you something! There’s no need to shout like that!” my mother said calmly from the bottom of the stairs. Five or so years ago I wouldn’t have felt any guilt about shouting at my mother for interrupting me watching a video of a flexing, roided muscle bull in my bedroom. Now, I felt like the world’s biggest dick. “I’m busy!” I replied, my tone deliberately lighter. “Ooooh, you’re always busy,” she groaned. “God knows what you do on that computer!” Hmmm. Wanking off to videos of bodybuilders on YouTube. Wanking off to pictures of bodybuilders on Instagram. Occasionally chatting to other like minded muscle addicts about wanking off to bodybuilders on Twitter. My mum asked me if I’d do her a favour and go to Tesco to pick up a few things for dinner because she had to go to and visit my nan. I said yes, partly because I felt guilty about snapping at her, but also because doing this favour gave me a reason to leave the house. A sense of purpose, even, for the afternoon, which made me feel completely pathetic. “Fancy shouting at your poor mother!” she said. Then she did a pretend sob which I couldn’t help but smile at, even though I was still annoyed that she’d interrupted me watching a video of Blaine Holton strutting through an audience in nothing but his shiny red posers, just as he was cranking out a brutal most muscular in the face of an extremely lucky audience member. I’ve always found it amazing how easily we forget things. And how our memories have a habit of only selecting the positive when thinking about a situation we’re no longer in. In all of the times I thought about spending the summer at my parents, I never once factored in the possibility that they might annoy me, or that I might grow bored. The irony was, I had been looking forward to being back home for a few months. But all I had wanted during those first few weeks of my summer break was to be back in London. Why is almost every place inherently more appealing when we’re not actually there? As I walked into my local Tesco a feeling of dread hit me. I had this sudden, strong intuition that I was going to bump into someone I knew. If it wasn’t someone shopping there, it would probably be one of the workers. When I was in sixth form, half of my year seemed to work there, including my best friend Naomi. Maybe if I tried to avoid eye contact with everyone in a blue Tesco work shirt I’d reduce the risk of having to make small talk with a classmate I never really liked who was also back from university for the summer. Or someone who hadn’t gone to university at all, and had spent the past two years working in a supermarket. Fifteen minutes and no familiar faces later, I was heading towards the self service checkout and that’s when I saw him. Every single secret lover of huge, freaky muscle will be familiar with the incredible rush that comes with seeing a real life bodybuilder in a public setting. It’s such an incredibly surreal and amazing experience. To be walking down the street, or boarding a tube, or even walking down the meat aisle of your local Tesco and be suddenly faced with an excessively built and muscular man. Or even a genuine, bona fide bodybuilder. Exactly like the one I’d suddenly spotted, with his back to me in an extraordinarily tight fitted blue Tesco polo shirt, conversing with a well to do looking elderly woman, who was gawping at the frighteningly muscular lad before her with a look of sheer horror. I couldn’t stop staring at him. Everything but his height was big. His shoulders ridiculously broad, his back absurdly wide and the rear of his upper arms indecently muscular. Even his perfectly round arse looked huge as it struggled to contain the material of his extremely tight, black work trousers. Fuck! I could tell he was young, even from the back. A mini muscle bull in the making. A potential juniour competitive bodybuilder. Working right here in my local fucking Tesco. Practically fucking bursting out of his work uniform. I didn’t think I’d ever been that sexually attracted to the rear image of anyone before. Even the back of his head was hot. With his short graded, light brown hair, which got thicker at the top. And his mini bull neck. GRRRRR! Ridiculously, my heart started to pound as I got closer to, surely, the beefiest shelf stacker in Tesco’s employment history. Once I’d walked past him, I’d be able to conspicuously turn around to catch a glimpse of him from the front. But I didn’t need to, because the woman he was talking to was walking away, and when I was barely a few metres away from him, the potential competitive juniour bodybuilder turned around, my heart leapt into my throat and my stomach violently lurched. Because standing in front of me, now a mini mountain of muscle in a tight fitted Tesco polo shirt, was my old school friend, AJ Jones. “Noah?!” FUCKING HELL! I felt like my legs were going to give way. My mind just couldn’t cope with what was happening. The walls of reality seemed to melting before me, because standing in front of me was a huge and insanely fucking cute bodybuilder with tits which strained through his polo shirt, and a pair of the most enormous and outrageously muscular arms I’d seen on any lad of any age in person. And that bodybuilder just so happened to be one of my old best friends from school. “It’s AJ!” he exclaimed. “Hi!” I nervously replied. “Sorry! I do recognise you. You just look … different!” About a hundred pounds of arms, tits and arse different! AJ smirked. A cocky, adorable and gorgeous grin. To match his oh so gorgeous face. Oh God. How can AJ Jones be gorgeous? How can AJ Jones be a fucking bodybuilder?! “I get that a lot,” he said, nodding and pursing his lips. “I think it’s the hair!” I laughed and he grinned back at me. A warm, nostalgic feeling came over me and, just for a moment, he wasn’t this ridiculously buff muscle boy whose arse I’d not long been checking out. He was AJ, my old friend from school, who I hadn’t spoken to since we’d drifted apart and found new, very different friend groups about seven or eight years ago. “What are you up to now?” AJ asked. “I’m at uni,” I replied, looking at the lucky Tesco name badge sat on his unfathomably thick chest. Ha! I win, I thought. And then immediately I hated myself for thinking that way. “Which uni?” “Goldsmiths, in London. I’m back home for the summer.” “Back in boring Little Denton!” AJ said, playfully rolling his eyes. Boring Little Denton. Where nothing ever happens. Except for the boy who used to eat Tipp-Ex at school growing up to be the type of obscenely muscular, roid munching bodybuilder you regularly blow loads over. Fuck. “Nothing changes much round here!” he added. It was such a ridiculous statement that I couldn’t refrain from making a joke. “No, you look exactly the same as you did at school!” Then it was AJ’s turn to laugh, which made me blush, and feel ever so slightly giddy, because I just made a bodybuilder laugh. A bodybuilder whose upper arms looked about twice as thick as mine. I tried not be obvious, but it was almost impossible to be in such close proximity to a guy that muscular without my eyes veering south of his face. How on Earth had Tesco found a t-shirt to fit AJ? Not that it had fit. One single most muscular and his tits would have probably ripped straight through the material. And his arms. Fucking hell those arms. What did those biceps look like flexed, either side of his absurdly cute face? He hadn’t stayed on for the sixth form, so I hadn’t seen him for four years. I hadn’t even heard about him. He definitely hadn’t been working at Tesco at the same time Naomi had because she would have mentioned it. What had AJ been doing in the past four years that had caused such an extreme transformation? Presumably, spending an enormous amount of time in the gym, consuming a shit load of calories and probably taking a course of steroids, or two. Maybe I hadn’t won after all. Because he looked like THAT, and I looked like, well, me. I had one physical advantage over AJ, though. The same one I’d always had, even when we were younger. I was about four inches taller in height than him. He’d always been short. Right from that very first time I’d spotted him in the school playground, right up until the time he’d left school at sixteen. Maybe he was on a mission to be as wide as he was tall? At this rate, he’d probably succeed. He’d be ripping up the stage with the likes of Tommy “The Tank” Foster and all of the other notoriously short but stacked 212 class competing bodybuilders in no time. AJ Jones. A flexing bodybuilder. Seriously, what kind of cosmic, fucked up shit was going on? “AJ! Can you jump on till seven please?” A hard faced and slightly scary looking woman had interrupted us. AJ pulled a face as she walked away. “I’d better go!” he said. My heart sank. This couldn’t be it. Surely, the universe wouldn’t give me something so mind bogglingly amazing and then just swipe it away from me less than five minutes later? “Good to see you again, mate!” AJ said, with a genuine warmth. Ask for his number! Just ask for his number, I thought. But I couldn’t. It didn’t feel appropriate. And so, I watched AJ Jones walk away with an ever so slight waddle, his thighs visibly thick under his work trousers, his back impossibly broad, and his arse so big and beefy it bordered on obscene. AJ Jones, the bodybuilder. AJ Jones, my old friend from school. AJ Jones, who used to eat fucking Tipp-Ex.
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines, Terms of Use, & Privacy Policy.
We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..