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This is a story by Speaker from the old Evolution Forum written in 2007, which never got the credits it deserved. Sadly the story is unfinished and there seems to be no way finding the author now. Therefore, I am posting this story on his behalf, hoping he will see, like and continue the story. If the author wishes to take down the story, then I will do that. I also took out the liberty to correct spelling mistakes and revise a passage or two, as well as add a little bit at the end to open up for more possibilities for this story to be continued. Hope you enjoy! Help me find the author to ask for a continuation or permission to continue the story. ______________ "Paradise" by Speaker (Sept, 2007), revised by MuscCanon (2016) Joey woke up, not having the slightest clue whatsoever as to where the hell he was. He was content to simply lay back on this sinfully comfortable, warm bed, and just relax. Joey had no idea how he'd gotten here either, but he really wasn't complaining. He just had no desire at all to move. His bliss, however, was not everlasting. After simply lying in bed for what unkindly felt like about three minutes, he heard a voice above him somewhere. "So, still asleep are ya?" Joey had no desire to answer. Part of his brain wondered if he was drugged, because he normally was not this sleepy, and answered any question he was given. Unfortunately for him, that was not the part of his brain in control, so he just continued to lay there, mute. "Figured..." Joey felt a needle pierce his skin, and when he still made no movement, the suspicious part of his brain knew that there was something wrong. The needle emptied into him, and after about a minute of continued bliss, he stopped being so sleepy. He sat up and looked around. Whoever had spoken to him was gone now, leaving him alone in this cell-like room. There was the incredibly comfortable bed, a door, and lamp. Nothing more. Joey stood up, noticing while he did so that he was completely naked, which seriously embarrassed him, as he knew that there was no chance that there weren't cameras in this room. He put one hand over his privates, and walked to the door, where he was not surprised to find it locked. He sighed, "Wonder what the hell this is about." He muttered to himself as he walked back towards the bed. He sat on it, and given that he really had no choice in the matter, stopped hiding the fact that he was naked, exposing his average dick and balls to the free air. Normally he'd be scared in a situation like this, where he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there, but Joey at least thought things through. Scared or not, he was here anyways, and there didn't seem to be any chance of escape, so why be afraid if you can help it? He hummed music, to distract himself from the fear welling up deep inside of him. The door opened suddenly, and Joey stood up, covering his cock and balls with his hand out of instinct. A man in a white lab coat walked in and smiled at him. Joey instantly relaxed, but he kept a hand over his crotch just to be safe. There was something about this man's friendly, smiling face that put him instantly at ease. It wasn't hard to notice that the doctor absolutely had to work out like a beast whenever he wasn't working wherever they were. His lab coat was huge, but it had to be to hold a man as huge as he was. His upper arms completely filled the upper portion of the sleeve, and even through the coat Joey could see some of the incredible definition in the man's arms. His pecs forced themselves outward from his chest, arrogantly pushing the lab coat out far enough from the front of his body that it almost looked like a table. Joey had no doubt that this man would have trouble seeing the rest of his body if he looked down, simply because his huge pecs blocked the view. Except maybe his cock, which was, although Joey couldn't see it clearly through the material, obviously exceptional. His thighs filled his pants to bursting, and his face topped it off. The guy looked like he couldn't be a minute older than 21 years old. He was a Latino obviously, from the tone of his skin and his black hair and dark eyes, but he was also the sexiest Latino that Joey had ever seen. His white teeth stood out perfectly from his dark brown, perfect skin. His black, curly hair was cut short, and he had an impressive 5 o'clock shadow around his perfect face. The man was absurdly sexy, the kind of man who would put Mr. Olympia to shame, while having the face and dick of the best male model in the world. Joey's dick immediately, and obviously, hardened fully under his hand. The man grinned, and said to him, "There's no need to cover that up. I get that reaction a lot. My name's Miguel, and I bet you're wondering what the hell you're doing here." Joey nodded, and the simple tone of Miguel's reassuring voice brought his hand away from his dick, exposing it's hardness to anyone who cared to look. He simply couldn't take his eyes off this man. Quite a large part of him wanted to put his hand back on his dick and start stroking, but he wasn't prepared to go quite that far... not while Miguel was looking anyways. "Simply put, you are in essence a guinea pig. I know putting it that way sounds cruel, and I assure you it is not. I'm one of the first people who was tested you know, and now here I am, working to continue the testing." Joey finally found the courage to unglue his tongue, "Yeah but what is it you're testing?" "In essence it's a combination of a muscle-enhancement formula the military has been using, and a sort of fountain of youth. Guess how old I am?" Joey guessed, "21?" "Try tripling that. I only look 21 because of the formula, but I'm actually 64." Joey gaped at the man, who didn't look like he could possibly be 64, but if what he'd said was true, then of course it was possible. Duh, he thought to himself, he just said that he was 64 and that the formula made him look younger, so of course he doesn't look like he's 64. All that thinking didn't stop him from wondering how it was possible though. "But if it's a fountain of youth thing, then why am I here? I'm only 18. Are you trying to make me younger?" Joey thought in horror of having to start puberty again if he was going to be shrunk. "Well no. See it actually happens by us injecting a sort of template into a person. That template overrides your genes for age, and muscularity and sort of bootstraps itself in, but it leaves the rest of your genes alone. Of course, everyone doesn't end up the same height and weight, but it's reasonably close, and the rest of your genes determine how you grow when you lift weights, even after you've grown from the formula. That's why we're all muscular and look like we're 21 years old. It's because the template makes us look that way, but the rest of our genes are in place, which is why I'm Latino, Antonio is Italian, Brandon is black, and so on and so forth. You aren't the first person we've tested who is younger than the age that the rest of us are, but the first person came through perfectly and we want to see if it works well on everyone. That's where you come in. Joey stared at the man. He'd understood almost half of what Miguel had said, but he at least comprehended the most important things like if he took the formula then he'd become a 21-year-old muscleman. He really didn't care about the rest of whatever Miguel had said. If all he'd said was 'We're going to make you a muscular man.' Then that would have been enough to hook him! "So, whaddaya think?" Miguel asked, "Do you wanna do this?" "Hell yes!" Miguel led Joey into another room, this one with an ominous looking machine in the centre of it. There was a large glass tube in the heart of the machine, easily big enough to hold two men comfortably. The tube was surrounded by other wires and there were other tubes that entered the glass one in the centre. He assumed, correctly that he was supposed to get into the big tube. Miguel nodded when he gestured at it and Joey got in it. He entered the tube and heard Miguel's voice from a speaker somewhere inside. "Don’t be afraid, but the other tubes are going to attach to you." As soon as he said that, the tubes inside the main chamber attached to his body. One to each leg, each arm, and one to his chest. He looked at them apprehensively, as they were as thick as two fingers in diameter. "Those are for the muscle mass you're going to be gaining. You're going to gain weight in muscle mass, and that mass has to come from somewhere, so we inject it straight into your bloodstream with these. I know they look big, but that's to get the growth over with quickly because I won’t lie to you, it's painful. Knowing that do you still want to proceed?" Joey nodded. He didn't care if it hurt if it gave him a body like Miguel's. "Ok. I'm starting the procedure." Through the tube into his right leg a small amount of a purple fluid entered his leg, which began to burn immediately. It hurt, but Joey gritted his teeth and attempted to ignore it. "That's the template. We have to wait a minute for it to circulate to the rest of your body before we can actually start the growth." It was probably the longest minute of his life. The fire in his leg, spread up into his dick, up his abs, chest, arms and even into his head. It was like being forced to stay in a campfire even as he slowly started burning. "Ok, here we go." He heard Miguel say Blue fluid rushed into his body from the tubes. Joey grunted as the fluid entered him in five places. He felt, rather than saw, his body starting to swell. He really didn't care about the muscle growing along his body at the moment. He suddenly understood what Miguel had said. He really did want this over with quickly. Through the pain though it was impossible not to notice some things, like how his thighs forced each other outwards, forcing him to adopt a wider stance. How his back thickened and widened, forcing his arms out wider. How it was getting difficult to look down over growing pecs. How his body itched as hair grew in. All those were easily ignored however at the pain. He screamed as his bones lengthened, and the muscle fluid just kept pouring in. The growth had only taken another minute, but it had felt longer than that when it abruptly halted. The door of the chamber opened and Joey staggered out, unaccustomed to walking with massive thighs. He looked up, panting and saw Miguel slowly stroking his really thick, uncut, Latin cock and staring at Joey. Miguel walked over and pulled one of Joey's thick arms around his shoulder. "Tired eh? I know that transformation takes a lot out of you." Joey nodded, still staring at Miguel's thick dick. It wasn't hard for Miguel to notice this. "Sorry but the transformation is pretty hot to watch, even if it's not so fun to experience." Joey managed to gasp through his panting, "Are you... gay?" Surprise filled Miguel's face, before he laughed suddenly. Joey looked at Miguel in confusion. "GAY?! Of course we're all gay! That's the one prerequisite for the transformation you know. I can't believe I left that out. You have to be gay or the transformation won't work!" Joey stared at Miguel, who was laughing so hard tears fell out of his eyes, and despite being riddled with residual pain (which was quickly ebbing), felt like the happiest gay guy on Earth. "How many people have had this?" Joey asked, not panting as much anymore. "About 100 now. We try to keep it relatively quiet, but it's hard to do so with a hundred 21 year old horny musclemen in one place." "In one place? So we don't leave here?" Miguel smiled at Joey. "You can anytime you want." It took Joey only a moment to understand. "Yeah I wouldn't want to leave either. Not with 'a hundred 21 year old horny musclemen in one place.'" Miguel slapped his hand on Joey's newly broad back. "Now you're getting it. Look you're probably exhausted. I was when I transformed. Just let me take you to a room and you can rest up a bit before you meet the rest of the guys." Joey nodded. He let Miguel practically carry him to a much nicer room than the one he'd previously been in, lay him down on a bed, and he was sleeping the moment that his head touched the pillow. ----- Joey woke up, energized. He noticed that he was sleeping naked on top of the sheets but didn’t care at all. He sat up and stood up, marvelling at how abnormally easy it was. Normally standing up really wasn't much of an exertion, but people usually do get tired of it after a few hours. Joey instinctively knew that he wouldn't. He jogged into a private bathroom, noting that the room he was in looked more like a hotel suite than anything, complete with a balcony overlooking some ocean from atop a cliff, although he still didn't know where he was. Joey stared at his new self in the mirror. He was huge, easily 6'1" tall and he couldn’t be a pound less than 300, which he quickly confirmed on the scale in the bathroom. His chest was absurdly huge, like two massive dinner plates had been grafted onto his torso, and adorned with a half-dollar sized nipple. The crevice between his pecs looked deep enough to lose things in, although he knew that was an exaggeration. His pecs were so smooth, there was no hair to be seen. This gaze led him down over his 8-pack and then to his cock, which hung at least half-way down his tree-trunk thighs. He'd noticed that it was hard to walk, and gazing at his thighs gave him a shrewd idea why. His calves looked as though someone had shoved a football under them. He looked up again, this time at his arms which hung out of bowling ball sized shoulders. His guns had to be at least 24 inches around, if not bigger. He went into a double-bicep pose and stared at the proud peak which stood up from his arms. Veins covered his biceps and his forearms, which were absurdly thick as well, even at the wrist. Last, but not least, he stared at his face. His brown eyes somehow had more of a lustre, a shine than previously. His face was covered with brown shadow, and he noticed that he really needed a haircut. Joey grinned at the man, and the man in the mirror grinned back at him. He swaggered back into the main room, even though there was a separate room with a TV, a sofa bed and a computer. Joey doubted that he'd use the TV and computer but he had to marvel at the computer. Before his transformation, he would have been astounded at the quality of it, but now he really had no desire to use it. He looked around but found nothing that even looked like a dresser with clothes in it, so he shrugged and walked to the door. There was a note pinned there. ____ Hey! Welcome to the community! I'm Antonio and since our rooms are across the hall from each other, they asked me to give you a bit of an explanation, but I really didn't want to wake you up. The rooms are private and are set up to allow access when it scans your hand. We've already put in your fingerprints so if you want to get into your room, just put your hand on the panel next to the door and it'll open up. If you wanna know more, just come across the hall. I'll be in my room until 6 tonight. There's a clock next to the bed if you dont know the time. Antonio ____ Joey read the note, and looked at the clock. It was only 3 in the afternoon so he walked out of his room, into a carpeted hall which looked like nothing more than a hotel hallway, with rooms stretching along it. He walked across the hall and knocked. He heard feet moving and the door opened. Antonio was the epitome of an Italian hunk. Joey had just undergone his transformation and therefore hadn't had an opportunity to work out and grow any more. Judging by Antonio, he had only recently arrived too, but to Joey he looked like nothing less than perfection. Joey had a fair amount of brown body hair, but Antonio's pelt put his to shame. Antonio's chest was covered in about twice the black hair as Joey's was in brown, and it only continued down Antonio's abs, surrounded an impressive cock, and covered his legs as well. Antonio's short hair was curly and he had, like every man here apparently, an impressive black 5 o'clock shadow around his mouth. His muscles were about the same size as Joey's, but his body practically screamed 'HUNK' to Joey. Joey stared, open mouthed at Antonio and Joey could feel his dick harden as he stared. Antonio only grinned. "Hey man I was wondering when you'd wake up." Like Miguel, despite Antonio's obviously Italian heritage, he had no discernible Italian accent. "Joe isn't it? Come on in!" "It's Joey." Joey muttered and followed the Italian stallion into his room. It was physically the same as Joey's room, but there were the unmistakable scents of man, sweat and a fair amount of cum in the room that only aroused Joey further. "Ah ok Joey. I'm Antonio, and it looks like we're the next best thing to roommates! I suppose you want to ask a few questions?" Joey shook himself, nodded, and asked "Are there any clothes?" "Why would you want them? We're in a tropical paradise, the room temperatures are permanently set to 80 so they're never cold, and all you'd be doing is covering up that glorious bod." Joey couldn't argue his logic. "Where are we?" "We are on a nice small island in the south pacific. It's owned by Dave, who had the original idea for this growth. He's actually only 30 but he's probably the richest person in the world. Inheritance you know. 'Course he doesn't look like he's 30 since he got transformed too. You'll meet him later. He was the first guy to be transformed and is the biggest of us because of it, although Miguel, the doc, is almost as big. Nobody comes here unless they're delivering food or bringing another person here to be transformed, and then they only see the front, where they see a massive resort for 'The rich and famous,' which explains why they've never met anyone who's been in here. The private beach is on the back side, which is in a little cove and can’t be seen from the outside. We've got everything here. An AWESOME weight room, all the food you could possibly eat, none of it junk food either so you can grow more. You name it, we've got it." Joey laughed. "Well that answers pretty much all my questions, but I’ve got another one. How old are you really?" Antonio smiled, "I'm 19. I was the first guy they tested the formula on who wasn't over 21, and you're the second." Joey grinned at Antonio. It didn't seem possible that a 19-year-old could have that kind of body, but then, he was living proof that it was indeed possible himself. Joey couldn't resist anymore. He reached forward and kissed Antonio on the mouth passionately. He loved the feeling of Antonio's rough facial hair against his own, which told him beyond a doubt that he was kissing a man, and that he loved every second of it. They broke off the kiss after about a minute and Joey muttered, "God I've wanted to do that since I saw you. You're so hot." Antonio grinned and muttered, "So are you." Then Antonio beckoned Joey to follow him. "I want you to meet someone." Joey walked into Antonio's bedroom and saw in bed, what had to be the most massive man here. The man had his huge arms behind his head, showing off what had to be 30" guns, and Joey couldn't even imagine the colossal chest the man had. The man's body was entirely hairless, save his eyebrows and a crew cut, but it only showed off his size even more. This man had the most freakishly huge legs you can imagine and they were covered with veins. The man spoke, "So you're Joey? I'm Dave, the owner of this place and the biggest fucker you'll ever meet." Joey was loving his 'tough guy' attitude. Joey walked up to the Dave's naked body, knelt and started sucking on Dave's massive cock. Or at least he tried. Joey guessed his to be about 14" hard, but Dave's had to be at least 18" and it wasn’t fully hard yet. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to have that inside of him. It was hard enough to get it in his mouth. Whilst sucking this huge cock he couldn’t stop feeling all over Dave’s huge legs and calves. Just a moment later, he felt a thick cock enter his ass. He didn't need to look to realize that Antonio had taken advantage of Joey's ass in the air and hadn't needed any more invitation than that. He released Dave's cock for a moment to moan with pleasure as he felt that 14" cock pounding away at his bubble butt, before he went back to sucking on Dave's cock with gusto and looked up at Dave’s face. His impression showed pure bliss. He must have been really enjoying Joey’s sucking. At the same time Dave was playing with his big nipples, which were hard and erect. It didn't take long before Dave's cock started throbbing hard and spewing a massive load down Joey's throat. Joey didn't know if he could swallow it all but he tried anyways. Suddenly his own cock began shooting its load all over the floor. He tensed from the pleasure, and that was enough to squeeze Antonio's dick with his ass cheeks and drive Antonio into climax as well. Joey was getting cum into him from his ass and his mouth and was shooting his own load as well. All at the same time. He was in the ultimate state of ecstasy. Nothing could ever match this. Nothing. He slowly felt himself getting fuller and fuller and started touching his muscle belly in shock. His ones flat 8 pack muscled abs were now replaced with a bloated but rock hard roid gut which kept growing bigger and bigger by the second. After five minutes of this pure, sweet sex Joey and Antonio stopped shooting. Dave, of course, continued for another minute or so before he too was sated. Joey grunted as he felt Antonio slide his thick cock out of his own ass. Joey released Dave's cock and stood up. The floor was covered with his cum. He'd shot at least a gallon, maybe two, and it was oozing along the floor. Dave looked at Joey’s new roid gut and laughed “don’t worry boy. All that cum will transform into muscles really soon. It’s the fuel that makes us grow. And by the looks of it, you have a lot of growing to do.” Just the thought of it made Joey hard again and leaking pre all over the floor. Dave was watching him, absentmindedly stroking his cock, which was hard yet again. "If you haven't noticed Joey, we can have sex pretty much 24-7, but most of us do other things as well. I, for example, am going to go down to the weight room and shame all of my other guests. Antonio, after sex, usually likes to go surfing at the beach, but of course, what you do is up to you. This is a pleasure island. You can do anything you want here as long as it doesn't harm or steal from one of the other guests. Of course, I wouldn't have brought you here if I thought you would do anything like that, but just to be sure, I'm laying down the rules. The formula is reversible and if you piss enough people off, we can reverse it, wipe your memory of this island and send you back to the mainland. I'd prefer not to do that, as you're one of the better cocksuckers I've ever encountered, and you'll look good with another 100lbs of muscle on you. So be good." He flashed a grin, and walked sideways out of the room. His yet again hard nipples hit the side of the door, which obviously gave Dave shudders and pleasure, as his dick leaked more pre on the floor. Antonio looked at Joey and smiled. "He's right you know. I like surfing after sex, but I guess I could be persuaded into a little more fun." Joey smiled back. He knew he could have Antonio anytime he wanted. But right now he couldn’t stop thinking about Dave. “Thanks for the offer, but I would really love to lift some weights. Getting my fully blown out roid gut down to a more reasonable size. Do you want to join?” Antonio was a little bit disappointed but changed his mood in a second. “Follow me, I’ll show you the way”. As both muscle hunks left the room and walked down the hallway, Antonio kept on pointing out who lived where and all the opportunities they had. Once they turned the corner, Antonio stopped in front of a particular door and obviously got nervous. Joey also noticed that Antonio’s dick got harder by the minute. Joey looked up at the door sign and read Miguel. “Follow this way, then turn left and take the elevator down to the first floor. You will find the gym right there. Don’t be shocked but what you will find there. I will follow you right after. Just need to finish some business first.” Antonio absentmindedly started stroking his cock. “Ok, see you around. Have fun.” Joey couldn’t stop smiling thinking about what Antonio will do with Miguel. Were they lovers? Once he reached the elevator and got in, he clicked the button with a big G.Y.M. sign to it. The elevator closed and slowly started going down. His head was full of ideas what he will find at the gym. But most of all he was looking forward to see Dave work out. Maybe he will be able to work out with him. What will Dave look like pumped? Is Dave still growing? How big will Joey grow? The door opened and what Joey saw made his dick rock hard in an instant. TO BE CONTINUED....

Previous chapter: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster Chapter 16: Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After Casey’s first workout demonstration for The Nineteen that afternoon promised to be brutal – and awesome - as he had hoped it would be. He knew he would love every moment of it. He knew it would almost make up for the confusion and fear he had felt the night before. He would be as strong as a god, sailing through every lift, every rep, every set with strength he didn’t know he had. Almost make up for it. Not quite. But maybe afterwards, he could pose for them? Just a little? In the locker room, alone, and about to go before these crazy huge guys once again, he ruminated. He was, if he admitted it to himself, not a little leery about these guys. After all, he had a big black eye. And just about 12 hours ago, thick, creamy jets of cum had shot from18 firehose cocks and plopped down on him while he lay tangled in a sweaty muscle mass mess with Karim Abdul, both of them with swelling black eyes and bloody noses. Kind of a strange introduction to the world of supreme muscle he had been looking forward to for two years – and had been fantasizing about for far longer. “I wonder what Miles would say,” he thought to himself. He had glanced at his black eye in the mirror in the locker room. It was fully open, not bloodshot, just rimmed with black and blue. Not too bad. Actually, it looked fucking hot. He quickly did a side chest. Bam. Nips high. Rivers of striations. Yeah. Lookin good. He was hot. He knew it, too. Or, rather, was beginning to know it. He found his old sweats, thoughtfully hanging up and waiting for him in a large locker with his name on it, which he assumed was his. He noted that the lockers themselves were almost like storage units, not the shameful, small individual skinny things most gyms had. He looked up, slightly startled. Musclemen Gunst and Obatu were suddenly there at the end of the locker row, waiting for them. At first he barely noticed what they were wearing. But then he saw. “What the fuck?” “You ready?” “Uh. Yeah.” “Let’s go, then.” He stripped down fast, found his old jock in the locker, and grabbing his huge cock and balls, shoveled his heavy machine into the pouch. As always, it sagged heavily, groaning softly from the weight of his manhood. He glanced down the row. Gunst and Obatu were blankfaced. Casey threw his sweats on. “Now?” “…..yeah.” Casey slammed the door and waddled towards them, throwing a bathsheet towel over his broad shoulders. “Let’s go lift.” Gunst and Obatu brought Casey onto the workout floor. All of the musclemen in the squad were in attendance, naturally wanting to see how much weight the pretty muscle boy Casey could handle. After all, he may be huge, and all realized he was pretty fucking strong in the ring. He could move fast, and his mandatory poses last night were impressive. But could the dude lift? Could he train?? Dr. Irving stood by with the video camera, fussily taking his precise notes. And Zaftig was there, of course, hanging back, saying nothing, just watching, watching. And now, at least, Casey could remember the dude’s name. Dr. Zaftig. After all, this was the dude who was going to make him huge. He nodded shyly to him. “Good afternoon, Dr. Zaftig.” “Good afternoon, Casey. Welcome to Valhalla.” “Thank you…” “Let’s get going, Casey,” said Sergeant Moster. “You’re keeping us waiting. Again.” “I’m sorry,” Casey said. Moster frowned. No signs of reaction to all the White Caps swimming around in his bloodstream. There were, inevitably, more moments of muscle awkwardness to be had first. First off, Casey was entirely unprepared for the men’s workout gear. His usual workout clothes fully covered him, a ripped and worn outfit of dirty, sweaty baggies, a sloppy oversized sweatshirt that seemed to have been made for a man of 600 pounds, and full-length sweatpants, ragged and much the worse for wear. Even in these baggies, his bulge loomed heavily, swaying from side to side as he came onto the floor. Moster had changed into his full-dress spotlessly clean green uniform slacks, boots, and a skin-tight regulation t-shirt. His mammoth black muscles gleamed with ferocious power, and his crisp, clinging t-shirt outlined every peak, valley, cut, bulge, thick vein and crevice of his astonishing physique. Casey tried not to stare at him. He was oddly drawn to this black mountain of muscle. “I wanna be as big as you someday,” he said softly to himself. The squad, on the other hand, he nervously noted, were all dressed in White Cap Night Valhalla regulation gym gear: ripped, torn and ragged wife-beaters with muscles bulging every which way. Dripping sweat, muscles red and inflamed, their workouts over. No shorts, Army boots, heavy cable socks, and sweaty, swollen, looming Army-green mesh jocks. Bulging packages protruded, looming cocks, also swaying heavily with each muscleman movement, all around the gym floor. “This is how you guys dress to work out?” asked Casey timidly. Okay, so it was still weird. His question was ignored. There was a lot of barely sheathed bulging heavy duty muscleman dick on this gym floor. His own was more modestly covered. If just as bulging. And just as evident. And no one’s on the floor appeared to be as big as Moster’s. Once again he stared for a moment at the man’s obviously huge, looming penis, outlined clearly in his green trousers. He could see the penis corona, even the deep piss slit through the thick dark khaki fabric. Moster sure wasn’t ashamed of his cock. So maybe Casey shouldn’t be ashamed, either. And what Casey couldn’t know is that the men, just having finished their workouts, were delaying their shower sports. White Caps racing in their bloodstreams. And holding back. Not 10 minutes before Moster had sternly separated Blankenship and Lang from some foreplay, giving each man a quick spanking on their bare bottoms before all the other men. Afterward Alvarez pulled Lang back and eyed him dangerously. There would be words between them tonight. Lang was staring at the floor. Blankenship, of course, was grinning. Toothlessly. “How about starting off with some incline flyes?” said Moster. “You need a warm-up set?” “I wanna stretch first,” said Casey. Miles had always taught him the necessity of proper technique. Light warm-ups were part of that, though once he actually started lifting, what constituted a warm-up for Casey might be a final blasted set for another man. “Always smart.” The men stood watching Casey intently. “Don’t you guys wanna go workout somewhere?” he blurted out. “We’re done,” said Alvarez. “We’re waiting for you.” Abdul was staring at him with undisguised hatred. Tiffany was smiling sweetly, butter not melting in his mouth. Schumacher was blank-faced, and all the scarier for it. The others were intent, if blank-faced. Even Hension, whose thoughts were usually betrayed on his handsome face, wasn’t reacting much. He just was staring. They were all staring. Casey shuffled off to a corner of the Marley mat and began his stretch routine, arms swinging, legs kicking, gentle but firm. The men watched him. “He’s bow-legged!” whispered Hension. Loudly. “Yes, we see that,” said Alvarez, mocking the whisper. “I think that’s so hot….!” Casey heard a resounding smack! echoing through the room. “Ow!” Someone had hit Hension again. Casey, his face turned away, had to smile. Apparently the pretty boy got hit a lot. “Um. This takes 20 minutes,” Casey said. Suddenly he didn’t care what they thought. He was going to stretch. He started torso turns, his hands behind his head. Moster spoke. “Casey, we don’t have all day.” Casey turned back to him and repeated himself firmly. “This takes 20 minutes. I stretch for 20 minutes. If you don’t want to watch, don’t.” And he turned back, cupping his big hands together, continuing his torso turns. Moster smiled slightly. Good. The White Caps had obviously kicked in after all. It seems Casey required more White Caps for an effect, and the societal restrictions weren’t so easily abandoned. But the boy was asserting himself, and quite naturally. Zaftig was suddenly next to Moster. “He’s not so easily bullied,” he whispered. “Not like your other men. You won’t have your way with him so easily.” “You don’t think so?” “No, I don’t.” “Well, we’ll see, then, won’t we?” Zaftig frowned. Clearly, Moster wasn’t concerned about Casey digging in his heels at his first workout, doing it his way, defying the Sergeant. “What do you know?” Zaftig hissed at Moster. Moster, never taking his eyes off the teen muscle giant now doing rapid pushups, turned to Zaftig, laid his cards on the table. “The kid has never been worshipped before. He wants it, he needs it. He needs someone to tell him how amazing he is. And he needs musclesex. Badly. He doesn’t know how much.” “I see. It’s your musclesex thing again. Goddammit, Sergeant. This project is about youth and strength and creating the most fearsome army the planet has ever seen. It’s not about sex. It never was. It was about creating the perfect physical specimen. The most extraordinary physiques the world has ever known.” Moster smiled sardonically. “You’ve forgotten, Dr. Zaftig, or perhaps you never knew. Even when you were a young man. Were you ever young?” Zaftig smiled. “Amazing to consider, isn’t it?” Moster continued. “Everything for men is about sex. And bodybuilders? Even more so. And for these bodybuilders? All that times about 200. 500. All these guys want is to be admired. Worshipped. Sucked off. Felt up. Fuck. And, I might add, get fucked. Train, lift, eat, sleep, shit, fight, suck, get sucked, fuck, train some more, fight some more, fuck some more, suck some more, eat, shit, sleep. And,” he added sweetly, “…that’s about it.” “Fuck you, Sergeant.” But now Zaftig was smiling. He knew there was more to it. Wasn’t there? Moster sighed. “I’m sorry, Dr. Zaftig. But that’s what you’ve created here. Millions of dollars poured into fucking machines. But look at the bright side.” He leaned in. “It’s going to make you millions, as well. All of us.” “I already have millions. I don’t care.” “Well, I don’t, and I do.” “By the way, how did the boy get that black eye?” “Looks pretty hot, don’t it?” “Less than 24 hours in the compound and already someone’s slugged him.” “Don’t look too closely at Abdul or Blankenship.” Zaftig glanced over at Abdul, sporting a shiner of his own, and noted the missing teeth of the blond bomber beauty Blankenship. Zaftig groaned inwardly. Another trip to the dentist. He hated having to take the men off the mountain. But there was a dentist in San Jose who fixed up the men regularly, regular hygiene, capping, replaced teeth, crowns, implants, the works, and charged nothing, content merely with big biceps flexed in his face while he sat in the chair playing with his tiny dentist dick. Then, Moster to Casey, “You about done there, boy?” “No, sir.” “All right, then.” The men were getting restless, shifting from foot to foot, now staring at Zaftig and the ever-cool Moster. Alvarez was the only man on the squad who seemed calm and in control of himself. A fact not unnoticed by Moster. Or Casey, for that matter, now secretly watching all this play out for himself. He was beginning to catch on that there was even more to these big dudes than just training, taking this crazy drug, and spanking their monkeys. “Men, time for some biceps curls,” Moster announced. “All of you go do 15 sets of light reps. 25 reps per set per arm. No ball busting, now. Get to it. No more than 25 pounds. I mean it.” He turned back and smiled at Casey. “We’ll wait until The Boy is ready.” Okay, so he was The Boy again. Zaftig wasn’t done. “In a few months the Joint Chiefs will be here for review. I want Casey ready and I want the men at their sharpest, and no funny business. Intensify their training.” He turned away. “You leaving?” Zaftig turned back. “Hell, no” he smiled. “I want to see my latest boy wipe your men all over the floor. Maybe you’ll listen to me then.” Moster nodded. Inwardly he had to admit he respected Zaftig deeply. The man may have been a puny genius with no body, but he wasn’t dishonest, and he was clearly unafraid of Moster. He had no personal need for muscle worship, and never bothered the men. He was, at the end of the day, a partner Moster could trust, if never take advantage of. He admired that. Moreover, Zaftig had never indicated another other than scientific curiosity about Moster’s treetrunk tool. That was a plus on his side, too. Moster turned to Casey and called out. “Okay, you’re done,” he said, brooking no denial. “What’s your starting weight for inclines?” “Um…..180?” Hension, 20 feet away and now doing the ordered biceps curls, stared at Casey. “Damn!” he squeaked. He put the dumbbell down and scratched his barely covered balls. “180?? To start?” Casey looked away, trying not to notice. That boy certainly was pretty. A perfect face. Without realizing it, Casey licked his lips, staring a little at Hension, who, gawking at the muscle monster, inadvertently smiled back, absently scratching his balls. The exchange did not go unnoticed. Lang nudged Alvarez, who nodded sagely. “180 it is. Let’s see what you got.” Moster strode to the bench, grabbed two 180-pound dumbbells as if they were sacks of feathers, and handed them to Casey. Casey took them without a blink, two sacks of feathers. And so the workout began. One by one, the men re-racked their light weights, approached the bench where the giant Casey lay, ready to lift. Casey’s perfect technique was evident from the start. He smoothly lowered his huge bulk onto an incline bench. He raised his arms into position, the two dumbbells easily held aloft overhead. In no time he reeled off twenty reps of perfectly calibrated incline flyes, then peeling off into overhead presses, gently touching the dumbbells one another, then down to the tips of his big brown nipples, outlined in his oversized sweats. His chest bloomed, rivers of sweaty muscle flowed, the pumped pecs seemed to reach to the ceiling as he pumped. “Pow, pow, pow, pow,” he breathed to himself with each rep. Light stains of pec milk appeared on his sweats. “Wow….” breathed Hension. “Do you see that??” “What’s next?” “Do it again.” “Okay.” He reeled off another set. The men watched him stonily, now all gathered around the bench. More pec milk appeared. “Now?” “Do another.” “Sure.” He did another set. Finishing, he clanged the weights to the floor. “Can I work with something heavy now?” Moster smiled. The White Caps had taken effect. He shot a look over at Zaftig, who merely raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Certainly, boy. Take it to 220.” So he was still Boy. “Anyone have gloves?” “Sure, Case!” Lang reached into his bag and tossed a pair to Casey. Casey smiled a little, hearing Lang call him by the same nickname the cadets down the mountain did. “Thanks.” He caught the gloves and slipped them on. Everyone was watching now. The red light of the video cam continued to blink. Standing next to Lang, Alvarez was blank-faced, but not unapproving. In the corner, Dr. Zaftig now had his head tilted back, musing. This boy will go the limit, he thought. No matter what Moster says about what the men really want. This boy is different. He’s pure muscle, and nothing else. No, that was not right. He was muscle, cock, and butt. This boy would be worth millions. And very, very soon. An uncommon sex machine of the first power. Innocent Casey, unaware of the plans being made around him, rose, took the two 180 pound dumbbells, and re-racked them, two sacks of feathers back to the their featherbed. He strode down the line and grabbed two 220s, returned to the incline, lowered his bulk, and reeled off another set of 20 reps, grunting loudly and blowing out air with each rep. More milk flecks appeared on his shirt. He blew sweat and spit, began to groan mightily. “ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh….” When he was finished he set the dumbbells down gently on the marley floor, and looked up at Moster. Absently he wiped the milk away from his nipples with thumb and forefinger. “Nicely done, boy,” said Moster. He spoke loudly to the group. “Notice that Casey does not drop the weights.” He looked pointedly at Jin, who was famous for throwing the weights to the floor after the punishing final set of any lift he did, excepting squats – where he re-racked as noisily as possible, all while screaming. Jin looked back, defiant. “Why do you do it that way, boy?” Casey shrugged. “Way that Miles taught me, I guess. It’s harder.” “Miles?” “Miles Donovan, Raw Weight Gym.” So that was it, thought Gunst. Miles Donovan. He should have known. Donovan was a biceps freak, and hosted many others in his gym, taking their pay-offs for private posing from men who liked to blast big guns in the faces of the hapless, endlessly paying schmoes. No doubt Casey had been a major revenue stream for the notorious Donovan gym, he reasoned to himself. Of course he had to have huge guns. Miles would have seen to it. Blankenship grinned, a front tooth missing and looking all the hotter for it. “Yeah, makes sense, he came from that old horn dog Donovan’s gym. You worked out on the 3rd floor yet?” Casey looked at Blankenship a little blankly. “Um. No.” Obatu spoke up. “Casey is still too young and green for the 3rd floor. Besides, he has been training at the cadet gym down the mountain for the last several months. Haven’t you, Casey?” “Yeah, I guess. What’s next?” “You flat bench?” “Sure. How much weight?” “Let’s see what you can do.” The squad backed away a little as Casey, gripping each elbow and stretching his arms over his head, walked towards a row of flat benches. Gunst despaired a little. He was wrong. Casey wasn’t posing and being paid for it at Donovan’s. Which meant he’d built those mountainous biceps on his own. “Lose the shirt!” squawked Hension. “I want to see your nips milk!” “’Kay,” said Casey. He stopped, slipping out of his sweatshirt, folding it up carefully. Underneath he wore a baggy green t-shirt, which may probably have been at one time a pup tent. “My nipples always make a little milk when I train,” he explained. “See?” He reached under his soaked t-shirt to a nipple, gathered some white liquid, held out a finger dripping with milk droplets. “But it looks like I’m making a little more today.” In spite of himself, Moster was touched by Casey’s innocent neatness with his sweatshirt. And his explanation. “T-shirt too,” said Waring. “Not yet,” said Casey. Moster’s eyebrow raised a little. He glanced over at Zaftig, who nodded. Good. Good. It was all good. The White Caps were claiming his ego. Casey was showing signs he could stand up on his own. “Load up a starting weight of 360 pounds,” directed Moster. “You can handle 300, can’t you, Casey?” “Sure, easy.” Casey laid his bulk down on the flat bench while Waring and Lang placed eight 45-pound plates on either end of the bar. He began to suck in air in preparation. “Hey, can someone wrap my elbows?” he suddenly asked. “Sure. Washington, grab some heavy wraps for Cadet Rockland. Get to it. The man has to lift.” He lifted the bar off the bench and began to bench, pumping his enormous pecs. Now he was working his hardest. He was now more determined than ever to fit in with these huge men. He was going to show them now. The workout continued. Flat bench, declines, more flyes. All pecs stuff. More milk. Throughout the workout Hension, Lang, Jin, Bogarde, Washington, Meyer, Waring, Duncan, Chad, and Corporal Blankenship were cheerful and approving. They howled their encouragement and counted the reps. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!" Throw the weights, Casey!” "Okay to throw them?" Casey asked Moster, holding 600 pounds aloft, just about to bring it down to his milky nipples. He was calm. "If the men want. This time. Throw it when you're done." "Okay." He finished pumping, and instead of reracking... Clang! Casey threw the weight on the floor, sat up, grabbed the plastic bottle and chugged a half-gallon of water. Water poured from the side of his mouth onto his shirt. The men whooped and hollered. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and strode forcefully to the next weight. Immediately the men were counting again. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!” Clang! Wipe. “YEAHHHH….!” And on it went for 45 minutes of grueling, punishing lifting. Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, LeFevre, and Alvarez and Private McIntyre seemed more reserved. Corporal Abdul just grunted. But he was impressed, in spite of himself. The boy was training harder than he had ever seen. His muscles were blooming, seeming to grow as he watched. Gunst was quiet and watchful. Zaftig was beaming with professional pride. Moster remained aloof and keenly observant. And all the while, Dr. Irving followed every move with the video cam. The cocksure little Private Joe Tiffany cheered him on just as loudly. Casey pretended not to see the evil glint in the muscleboy’s eyes, but he couldn’t help it. He’d learned at the Home how to read signals. The Home…..hmmm. A memory appeared dimly, and, just as quickly, was gone. While resting between two punishing sets, Casey was still silently agog at the size of Moster’s muscles. Occasionally he found himself staring at the improbably large mound resting atop his CO’s left quad. The tip of the mound reached to just above the giant’s knee. He noted the other men seemed to be avoiding looking directly at Moster’s leg. Even though they all seemed to be sporting packages of similar size. Damn, their dicks are big, Casey thought. Are they real? And deep inside Casey, a little voice proudly squeaked…..”Wait until they see MINE…” Then he remembered – …..oh yeah.... They’d already seen it. And he had seen theirs, too. Sorta. Between his half-closed black eye. His hand went up, and he rubbed the black eye. Looked at Abdul, and his black eye. Adbul was smiling a little now. Not friendly, but hard - but still, a smile. Casey grinned wearily as he finally finished up with the last set of triceps pulldowns. Private Meyer, a big toothy grinning lighting up his handsome, beaming face, burst forward from the group, and pumped the newcomer’s hand. “Thanks,” said Casey. Meyer nodded enthusiastically. “He can’t hear you,” said Private Waring. Casey looked at Meyer, stricken for having forgotten that Meyer was a deaf mute. “It’s okay, he doesn’t mind.” Casey, touched, shook Meyer’s hand vigorously. Meyer shook his head cheerfully, touching his lips, and shrugged his shoulders to show that indeed he didn’t care that he couldn’t speak. Then he stepped back and proudly flexed his own powerful, round right biceps, smacking them with his left hand, and reached down to grab Casey’s wrists. He pulled his arms up encouragingly and Casey, getting the message, proudly brought his huge guns up and flexed mightily. “Mother fucker!” yelled Lang and Hension simultaneously. The men roared with laughter, and Casey colored a deep red, smiling sheepishly. Alvarez clamped that affectionate paw of his around Lang’s shoulders and hugged him close. But he looked worried. Something was on his mind. Behind them Hension eyed them both steadily, with longing. Meyer kept his hands on Casey’s obliques as if he was rotating his upper body for all to see. “It’s okay, plebe,” said Jin, laughing. “You’ll get to know us all.” While all through the devastating workout he had been stronger than he could ever remember, now he felt – well, almost frail – as if something, suddenly, was missing. “All right, men,” said Moster calmly. “Rec room in 15 minutes. Casey, shower up.” “Yes, sir.” “Men, file out. Casey, come here a moment first.” He glanced at the men, who leaned in, curious as to what Moster might be saying. “Well, Cadet Casey, it looks as if you’ve made it.” Moster spoke quietly. Casey looked up at him, and grinned wearily. “Thanks, Sergeant Moster.” The men gave him a round of applause, Casey noted that even Corporal Schumacher seemed to approve. He lowered his head, modestly grateful. Then Moster turned back to the group. They were still applauding. Casey was embarrassed, turning to go. He didn’t see Moster’s stone face shift into a slight smile. “Men, get dressed. Shower up. No play time. Get to it. I expect you all in uniform, neat and clean, in the rec room, in 10 minutes. Hop to it. Get a move on.” Then, to Casey, “Casey, use my private locker room to shower.” He pointed to a door across the floor. “You’ll find clean sweats in there. They’ll fit. Grab them after you shower. And no jerking off, boy.” Casey, embarrassed that Moster seemed to be reading his mind, nodded dumbly and headed to the door. He was worried again. He had only masturbated once today so far, and on a day like today, he needed a lot more….especially after that worship session with the cadets this morning. He was discovering….something….and his huge cock wanted to know more. But he went, dutifully, into the private locker room, showered, and changed into the clean sweats he found there. Before he left, he checked his guns and his pecs in the full length mirror. Flexing, he breathed to himself. “Damn. I’m fucking awesome.” And with the capsules still not in apparent full-force effect, dressed in baggy trunks and a clean, white light tee, he stumbled his way to the rec room. For what, he couldn’t tell. Probably more weirdness. But now, he was ready. Dr. Irving was there ahead of them all. He had set up chairs for all the bodybuilders in a semi-circle, with the inevitable video cam set up. There was a chair in the center, obviously meant for him. He glanced over at Moster, who nodded and gestured towards the chair. Casey waddled with his bodybuilder’s walk towards it slowly and sat. He looked around with anticipation. “So now what?” he asked. Zaftig took Moster aside. “This boy is gentle. We don’t want to break his spirit. He’s had a tough time and he just wants to make friends. Go easy on him.” Moster’s shoulders stiffened. The veins in his neck popped a little. He looked Zaftig dead in the eye, and said, “Being sweet to him now will kill him later. Is that what you want?” “No.” “Then let me handle it. I know what is best.” “Did you at least give him a capsule?” “Sure,” answered Moster. “He’ll be just fine.” “Doesn’t seem to have taken effect yet.” “He’s a big boy. Blood volume and all. It takes time.” “Fuck you, Moster.” Moster’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he knew not to protest. Zaftig was properly proud of his discovery. “You know fucking well that White Caps P-21 take effect immediately regardless of ‘blood volume’, if you want to put it that way.” “Dr. Zaftig, it’s my turn now.” “It’s always your turn.” Zaftig turned on his heel and left the rec room without further comment. Moster watched him go. The men were sitting impatiently. “All right, men. Let’s get to it.” He turned to Casey. “All right, Casey. Welcome. You’re one of the group now. We’re now….The Twenty.” “Yeah, baby!” “Bout fucking time.” “Tell him what that really means….” said Alvarez. “Spank him!” yelled Hension, and then, before Chad, sitting next to him, could swat him, he said, “Don’t you fucking hit me!” Chad did anyway. “Ow!” yelled Hension. Casey chuckled. “That’s gotta hurt. These dudes seem to hit you a lot.” “You will too, in time,” said Waring. “What did …he….”….um…” “Alvarez,” said Alvarez. “What did Alvarez – sorry – mean – when he said “tell him what that really means?” Silence. Casey continued. “I mean, what does it mean to be one of The Twenty?” Moster smiled. “Yes, let’s talk about that, Casey. Men, why don’t we show Casey what it’s all about?” Then he paused a moment. Casey wasn't reacting. He was just sitting quietly, albeit with great body tension. His muscles were hugely pumped, and Moster could see the fabric shifting as Casey's enormous cock began to uncoil in his sweats. Soon he would be hard. But the boy wasn't moving. Odd. Quietly, he asked, leaning in, “Casey, level with me.” He looked the teen in the eye. Casey couldn’t look away. Inwardly he was stammering. He was looking at Moster's crotch. “No, look me in the eye. Look up. Not down there. Up. How many White Caps have you taken?” “White Caps?” “The capsules. The pills. How many?” He gazed at him levelly. A pause. “Four, I think. Five?” He shrugged, weakly. "i don't remember." "Where did you get them? I gave you one...." "Uh..." Casey didn't want to indict the men on his first day. Weirdness notwithstanding. “Never mind. I can guess." Moster looked back at the group, all standing still, attentive, neatly dressed in their uniforms. And every cock seeming at attention, poling out hugely in their khakis. The men were ready to play. Past ready. Mmmmm. Not much effect on Casey, though, for 5 White Caps. A few moments of assertiveness and a powerful workout, but…..not much. "Are you feeling anything…unusual?” “Well….” Casey paused and looked away. He found himself staring at the men and their looming erections. Jesus. Here it came. Strong societal blockers, Moster thought. "Do you want to have sex? Like now?" No answer. Casey just stared at the cocks in the room. The men were deadly quiet. Then it hit Moster. Of course. “Casey, are you hypoglycemic?” Not so much to his surprise, even the dimwitted Casey knew exactly what that meant. Still staring the the men's rocket crotches, he spoke softly. “......I need oranges or candy bars sometimes.....” “They told you this when you were growing up?” “They told me in the Boys Home. My blood sugar. I have problems.” Of course. That was it. It happened sometimes. He reminded himself he had to mention it to Zaftig. It was the same for Obatu when he first checked in, and then, years later, for Eli Meyer. Since Meyer could neither speak nor hear and his sign language didn't encompass the subject of hypoglycemia, it took them a few days to realize that a cup of chocolate milk worked wonders on the tight glutes of the hot little muscle fuckee Meyer. Give the boy some cocoa and he'd take massive tool after tool up his butt for hours. He called over his shoulder. “Dr. Irving, please step into my office and get an orange. You’ll find a bowl of fruit on my conference table.” He turned back to Casey and smiled a little. “It’ll be just a moment. Then we’ll tell you what The Twenty is all about.” Irving left the room, used to being invisible except when ordered about. Moster stood up, in front of Casey. "It will only be a minute now." The men, behind him, were now pawing the floor like racehorses, ready to rock and roll. Casey, sitting, was now eye-to-crotch to Moster, in front of him. He stared openly at Moster’s enormous bulge in the fly of his uniform khakis, a thick pylon of sheathed cock snaking heavily along the edge of huge quad muscle, and gulped, looking up. Though Moster was the only man in the room without an erection, his penis yet appeared to be the biggest. “Yes, sir,” he stammered. And stared again. His heart was pounding. Moster put a hand on Casey’s beefy shoulder, kneading his fingers slightly into the thick muscle. “Hang on. It won’t be long now.” He turned to the men behind him. “Men? Drop trou.” Zippers unzipped, belts slipped out of belt loops and went to the floor, as the 18 bodybuilders – even Abdul – dropped their uniform slacks to their ankles. Pants down. Around the room. Now all the men were in micro posers. Those massive bulges were unleashed. Looming, heavy, hard, all already pointing straight out. Their cocks almost fully exposed except for the bulging, straining fabric barely covering cockheads. Some of the posers were ready to snap. Casey stared at them all. "Wow...." he breathed. "Men why don't you do some posing for Casey? You've seen his muscles. I don't think he's had the opportunity to see yours." "You, too, Sergeant," said Abdul. Moster looked at him. He paused. "All right, then." He unbuttoned his bulging dress shirt and slipped it off. Casey could almost imagine he could hear the groan of relief of the fabric, suddenly relieved of the need to stretch over the man's massive muscles. But he wasn't prepared for the massive musculature of Moster. Cocks and balls bulged forth, each man spilling half a foot of visible cock into barely sheathed pouches. Casey felt a dribble of precum shooting in his posers. “Arms behind backs!” barked Moster, clearly now the leader of the group. He turned to Casey and became one with his men. The Nineteen placed their hands behind their lower backs. “Spread legs!” All spread their legs wide, shooting their right legs out in choreographed unison. “Prepare!” Fists clenched, crammed in solid obliques. “Front double biceps!” All arms slowly rose. And 40 cannonballs of enormous power ball biceps snapped into ungodly peaks. The men faced straight ahead, all eyes high and level, as if gazing into infinity. “Jesus,” breathed Casey. He fumbled with his crotch a moment. His head was spinning. The lineup of 19 men stood before him, all flexing with massive front double biceps power. The black muscle god brought his arms down strode slowly across the room back to Casey. As he moved, his half-covered organ swayed heavily from side to side in his posing pouch. Behind him, the lineup of men continued to flex without wavering. He stood next to Casey, and impossibly, appeared to tower over even him. Dr. Irving returned with the orange. “Chow down on this, Casey,” said Moster as Irving handed it to him wordlessly. "Men, drop the biceps pose." The men relaxed. Hension snickered. "Yeah, chow down, Casey." Then, warning Chad...."Don't you hit me...." “Dr. Irving, would you get back to your camera, please?” Dr. Irving went back to the video cam, checking his clipboard, and began to tape. The men circled around Casey as he took a big bite out of the orange, and then another, and then another. A moment passed. Casey began to flush, a deep crimson red – and then, just as quickly – the flush faded. He looked up at Moster, and smiled. Broadly. “I’m fine now,” he said. “Casey,” asked Moster evenly, “have you ever sucked cock before?” “No, sir.” “Would you like to?” “Yes, sir. I think I would.” Snap! Snap! Gunst's and Blankenship's posers snapped. Their cocks bloomed free, swaying heavily, ready for service. Gunst stepped forward, but Blankenship elbowed him heavily out of the way. Gunst looked at him threateningly, raised his fist, ready to punch face. Moster stood back. "Easy, men. There's time for everyone. Who should he start with?” he asked the group. “I think he starts with ME,” said Abdul, striding forward, his hands on the straps of his bulging posers. The 14 inch shaft was fully exposed, the tendrils of Abdul's thick pubic hair shining in the rec room light. “Fine with me,” Casey said, still smiling. “How do I do this?” “Don’t worry. It’ll come naturally. Just let it happen.” Abdul took his position in front of Casey and pushed out his powerful hips. As Casey leaned in, Abdul roughly cupped the back of the teen’s head, and pulled him in close. "Get to work, boy..." Casey open his mouth. Wide. "Sorry about last night, " he said up to Abdul, who loomed over him, taking his mammoth cock out of his posers and aiming it. "Wider," said Abdul. "Can I pose for you guys later?" Casey asked. "Sure thing!" squeaked Hension. Smack!! "Ow! What did I say??" "I said OPEN WIDER," commanded Abdul. "Sure thing," said Casey. He opened his mouth wider. "Let's go." And so.... it began. **** Want to read "The Twenty" from the start? Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets

Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 17: The Presentation February 10th, 2018 2000 Hours “Rose, dim the lights, and please – please leave us alone. Lock the auditorium doors behind you when you leave so we won’t be disturbed. Does everything have everything they need? Wi-Fi connection good? And Rose….tell Dr. Irving to bring the men upstairs to the lab. We’ll be ready for them in about 30 minutes.” A crisp response in the affirmative. The auditorium lights dimmed. There was a tapping of sensible heels, and the double doors at the back of the Valhalla Laboratories Assembly Hall opened and shut quietly. The lock clicked. Dr. Ira Zaftig cleared his throat, took a drink of water, and looked out serenely at his audience. He clicked his remote. The screen lit up, the light spilling out into the chrome and concrete bunker auditorium. “Are we ready, Gentlemen? Good evening. Welcome to Valhalla Labs.” The Valhalla logo glowed on the 20’ screen. Zaftig’s calm voice echoed darkly into the far regions of the room. “Gentlemen, I know you’ve had a long day. Flying in from Washington, checking into your quarters, touring the facility grounds, and now, after that splendid dinner, I know you’re curious to see the results of our mutual contract with the United States military and the Joint Chiefs. The unveiling, in fact, of our great 15-year initiative.” The five Officers in the front row murmured quietly. Out of courtesy, one or two nodded. Admiral Walrus, the Joint Chief Chair and Committee head, was seated dead center. He said nothing. He waited. Well behind the officers in the half-light sat a row of junior officers and young aides in attendance to the brass. “We here at Valhalla Labs know that we have achieved stunning success. We’re proud to be able to share it with you tonight.” Zaftig spoke easily, confidently. He clicked the remote again, and the first slide came into view. In their swivel chairs, the five Pentagon Officers sat back and turned their attention to the image on the screen. And then they stared. “Jesus, Zaftig, what the hell is this?” demanded Admiral Walrus. “Gentlemen, I give you Prototype 1-A of Project Herculaneum, Specimen Casey: Mr. Casey Rockland.” The image of an impossibly huge, muscled behemoth of a young man was on the screen, presented in four views: front, left, right, and rear. He was squared-jawed, thick-necked, blue-eyed, and handsome, with a deeply cleft chin and full, luscious lips. His arms hung at his side, and his legs were spread confidently well apart. His gaze was centered straight ahead, his jaw set firm with business-like grimness, his head erect. His waist was impossibly slender, given the mass above and below, perhaps 29 inches. His cobblestone abs rippled insanely. His posture was that of a classic anatomy chart. Every vein, every muscle appeared to pulse right off the screen. The young man was clean-shaven. He had a short blond military crew cut, but his eyebrows were thick, dark black, and lustrous. The left brow was slightly elevated with cocky arrogance. His face set him at about 19 years, but the muscle density of his enormous physique made it difficult to precisely age him. Seated in the dark behind the officers, Ensign Sam Victor, Admiral Walrus’ coolly handsome young personal aide de camp, looked evenly up at the screen and took in the image of the young muscleman with cool calm. The muscle boy’s skin – for he was, with his angelic face, little more than a boy, at least in years - was shrink-wrapped over the most astonishing display of musculature Sam had ever seen. Every muscle group, every vein, every cut, every separation stood prominently sculpted, in separate relief from the adjacent muscle group. He wore only the briefest of posing trunks, which sagged deeply to expose the gently curving, then plummeting, upper 6 inches of his tawny-colored, vein-lined penis. His oversized ball sac bulged ferociously in the heavy pouch. The Joints Chiefs were stunned. In the front-view image on the far left, subject Casey Rockland displayed hugely rounded, shining, mountainous pectoral muscles, gleaming with powerful deep furrows of striations, punctuated with thick dark brown, 3-inch sand dollar-sized nipples, poutily pointing downward. His broad shoulders, thick powerful traps and heavy delts looked as if the boy could easily carry a 600 pound bull around a corral. His lats spread almost horizontally behind him like the outspread wings of an eagle. The mighty 3-headed biceps were triple slabs of muscle on each arm, huge beyond all reasoning, the forearms laced with networks of half and quarter-inch iron thick veins. The boy held his enormous hands at his sides, his heavy fingers and thick thumbs crooked slyly inward towards his bulging crotch. Smokestack quads rippled and burst with muscle, and he was supported by a set of calves that ballooned behind him. His feet were enormous, with large thick toes and perfectly groomed nails. His tanned skin glowed with health. Sam assumed the subject’s teeth were probably perfect, too, but for the moment his gaze was leveled just below Casey’ rippling midsection. Well, well, he thought. Let’s just look you over, now. Just who are you, buddy? Superman? Captain America? Tiny Yokum? Johnny Holmes? Naw. This was no cartoon character. No porn star. But no superfreak that Sam had ever encountered before – and he had known many – could boast the cock this boy had. Between his legs in the front view hung a monster penis, less than half covered by the straining, flimsy Spandex posing trunks. The top half of Casey’s shaft was plainly visible. The trunks loomed heavily with the outlined round bulge and piss slit of his cock head. The generals were now murmuring loudly in shocked disapproval. Admiral Walrus just sat and stared. Behind them in the darkness, most of the aides and junior officers avoided one another’s glances. A few men gazed meekly down into their laps, looking up only furtively with appreciative eyes. A few stared outright. “This specimen, gentlemen,” intoned Zaftig’s voice out of the dark, “or, if you prefer, Private 1st Class Casey Rockland, is at present only one the world’s most perfectly-developed men. There are, of course, 19 other specimens.” Sam let out a low whistle. Ensign Tyler, to his immediate left, caught it. “There are 20 of these dudes?” Sam murmured to Tyler. “There’s a challenge for you, Sam. Never known you to turn your back on a challenge.” Tyler responded. “Shut the fuck up, Tyler, or no play time later.” Tyler smiled sardonically but said no more. Sam leaned back to enjoy the view. His brought his big hands behind his head, and leaned back in his seat to contemplate. He focused on the image of Casey’s crotch and allowed himself to dream, if just a little. Casey’s testicles bulged heavy and full in the sac of white Spandex, and the top quarter of the shaft of the penis spilled out and curved visibly downward before being enmeshed in the barely restraining pouch. The cock appeared flaccid, but no matter: the thickness was like tube of a flashlight, and the cock head bulged and pointed down with insistent heaviness. Under the thin sheath of Spandex, Sam could make out the long, curling, resting shaft, the rim of the bulbous cock head, the bulging cock head itself, the inviting piss slit, and the 2-softball scrotum. Curled tufts of iron black pubic hair spilled out from beneath the poser’s tightly hemmed edges. The poser straps strained mid-hips, threatening to burst from the weight. In the left and right side views, thick horseshoe triceps rippled along the battlefield-ready arms, their huge round sweep arcing backward. His pecs bloomed mightily, those taut brown nipples still tantalizingly pointing down. Lower, brick-like washboard abdominal muscles tapered into that impossibly slender yet powerful, vascular waistline. His obliques curved up and outward with menacing power. The roundness of the hard butt and the sweep of Casey’s hamstrings jutted past the back of the line of his head. In the rear view, his deltoids upended mightily blending into mountainous traps, soaring into a thick network of back muscle. His legs were spread wide. Two tight globes of thick, oblong gluteus muscle curved below a rock-solid butt shelf of power. His rocky butt glistened with sweat and oil: a blissfully full, solid, fatless furnace of power. Each splendidly ripped butt cheek appeared to be glancing slightly to the side, barely opening the center spread. Mr. Rockland’s poser was as inadequate going as it was coming, and unable to hide the deep red cherry butthole, which glowed invitingly around the right edge of the tight thin strap that traveled and sank into deep, darkened buttcrack. Below, the exponentially huge, shaped and separated hamstrings exploded, supported by freaky split calf muscles. Get a grip, Victor, Sam thought to himself. It’s just a picture. In his loose white Navy uniform slacks, Sam felt his own cock twitch longingly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and reaching down surreptitiously beneath his regulation belt, his slipped his hand into his rapidly knotting underwear. He rearranged his package. Next to him, Tyler was doing the same thing. They caught each other’s eyes, and in spite of themselves had to suppress immediate blasts of explosive mirth. “Quiet, back there!” barked Walrus. Then: “We came here tonight to see a fucking muscleman?” he said dangerously to Zaftig. Tyler was suddenly seized with a fit of coughing, and Sam busied himself with his laptop, seemingly taking serious notes. Lucky he thought to bring it, he mused. It was covering a fierce erection, now pushing protestingly out of his tight uniform trousers. “I think you’ll find all the men interesting, Admiral Walrus. This specimen, Casey Rockland is 19 years old. He is 6’- 7” tall,” said Zaftig, now in full control. “He weighs 335 pounds. Casey was enrolled in the project formally only a few months ago, when he was just 18. Already he has made extraordinary gains.” Sam noted that the men on either side of him seemed to be breathing more heavily. His cock stirred heavily in his pants, and Tyler was still fooling around with something in his lap. He glanced down the line. Even in the half-light of auditorium he could see that all of the men were beginning to sprout fierce trouser trouts. Even the straight men. “Hmmm,” he thought to himself. “I wonder…” Zaftig continued. “Casey has 1.5% bodyfat. He’s in splendid health, his heart very slightly enlarged perhaps, but his blood pressure holds at an even 130/80. Casey’s lungs are clear. To our knowledge, he has never in his life smoked a cigarette. He can run almost 30 miles per hour for 2 to 3 hours at a stretch. He bench-presses 800 pounds, and can easily perform single arm curls at 160 pounds. He squats easily with 500 pounds, and has been known to do deadlifts of 600 pounds in a set of 25 repetitions.” Zaftig coughed modestly. “Casey is also an accomplished gymnast, and can hold an iron cross on the rings without moving for 5 minutes. His extreme flexibility enables him to land from a flying dismount into a full 180 degree split.” Baby, breathed Sam to himself. Come to daddy. He licked his lips just a little. Tyler was taking short, shallow breaths, as if he was hyperventilating. “Calm down,” Sam chuckled to Tyler, who was trying in vain to appear neutral. Tyler elbowed him sharply. “You calm down…” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Sam smiled and ignored him. “Go, man, go!” came a breathless voice from down at the end of the row. Clearly Sam and Tyler weren’t the only men excited by what they were seeing. Zaftig clicked his remote. A new slide appeared with Casey holding a front double biceps pose. “Casey has 26 inch biceps,” Zaftig continued. “His waistline measures 30” after a heavy meal. His quadriceps are 32 inches, and his chest, when expanded, measures a rather staggering 69 inches. His calves and his forearms are, respectively, 20 inches and 25 inches.” Yes, I was going to ask about Casey’s dimensions, Sam thought wickedly. He glanced right and left and observed his colleagues were probably wondering, with various degrees of personal interest, the same thing. “He eats 8 times a day, about 15,000 calories daily, a special diet of lean meat protein, clean animal fat, and low carbs. He drinks between 5 to 8 gallons of water during the course of a normal day. He trains 4 days a week, and the other three days he is required to remain at full body rest and in meditation, so that his body may fully recover and continue the growth process. His workouts are not shade less than brutal. Still, we are very careful not to overtrain any of the men, but because of Casey’s particular passion for heavy bodybuilding, in his case, we have to be unusually strict and watchful. He’d be in the gym day and night if we allowed it. Fortunately, over the years, we’ve learned better.” “I’ll bet you have,” thought Sam. “Casey’s also a black belt in karate and could be a champion extreme fighter – that is, if I ever let him out of the lab.” Zaftig smiled devilishly. “He has a mean left hook,” he added. “He can knock a 250 pound man unconscious with a single punch. His vision far better than 20/5 – what you can see at 5 feet, he can see at 20. Casey doesn’t drink or do drugs. And he has never in the three years we have worked with him here at Valhalla had so much as a gram of processed sugar. In short, gentlemen, Casey Rockland is a perfectly-developed male specimen.” One of the 1-star generals on the Committee blurted out. “Doesn’t do drugs,” General Needling echoed, as if appalled. “That’s a steroided physique if I ever I saw one!” he shouted. Walrus frowned. Another officer, General Wampum, added his harsh agreement. “He’s Ahhh-nold,” came a deep voice from somewhere in the junior officer row. “I’ll beeee beck.” Some chuckles, immediately silenced when Walrus, without turning around, sharply lifted an index finger to one ear. The men were clearly covering their growing excitement with feeble jokes. Zaftig continued. “On the contrary, gentlemen, there are no contraband controlled substances anywhere in Casey’s bloodstream. He’d test negative for any drug. No growth hormone, no insulin, no pain blockers. Nothing synthetic. I assure you there have never been any sort of street drug protocols at any time in Casey’s extraordinary development. Casey receives nightly injections of P-21, Valhalla Labs patented muscle-building enzyme, painstakingly developed by our technicians a decade ago, and unavailable to the general public. All of Project Herculaneum’s subjects receive nightly injections. There are no negative side-effects of any kind to P-21.” He paused for effect. “And it is not a steroid.” Zaftig let that sink in. Admiral Walrus snorted. He didn’t believe a word of this crap. He’d had enough, and the meeting wasn’t 3 minutes old. “What the hell are you talking about, Zaftig?” demanded Walrus. “Is this how you’ve been spending your Pentagon contract? Is this what you’ve brought us across the country from D.C. to see? A muscleman?! Some gym freak? Goddamn it, man!” “Admiral Walrus, sir, “ said Zaftig, his voice lowered to easy familiarity, “let’s just look at the facts. Casey Rockland is no ‘gym freak.’ He’s not simply “a muscleman.” Casey is the result of years of pain-staking research, protocols, hard-core training, and delicate systemic honing. He and the other 19 men we are presenting to you tonight are uniquely developed physically perfect beings. They are trained to exert control in all situations, and to follow orders to the letter. To the letter, I might repeat.” I can think of a few orders I could issue, thought Sam, shifting in his seat. Once again, his twitching cock was beginning to bind in his shorts. He mused if such wishful thinking might indeed have a payoff. The Generals murmured in low tones to Walrus, who nodded fiercely. “He looks – what did you call it?” Needling whispered again to Walrus. “He looks Photoshopped! How do we know this is real? No man looks like this!” Zaftig turned and faced the group. “Gentlemen, I assure you, there’s no trickery here,” he confided with a touch of theatricality. “Zaftig, this is a waste of our time.” Walrus started to get up as if to leave. The other officers stirred, hesitating. Zaftig resumed pacing. “Gentlemen, I confess, I’m disappointed. In fact, I’m speechless. You think this is all pure speculation?” He gestured at the figure on the screen. “Theory? Scientifically uncertain? Wish fulfillment, perhaps? Photoshop?” He paused for effect, and turned to a tall, lanky, owl-like man hovering at the end of the first row. “Dr. Shaft? Perhaps you might confirm to the Admiral…..?” He waited smugly. The Joint Chiefs personal physician, Dr. Shaft, was invariably called in as a paid expert on any matter remotely medical, for which service he balanced his time between coasts, living half his life with his annoying socialite wife of 35 years in an impressive Chevy Chase McMansion near the Washington, D.C. beltway, the other in a smaller, more secluded ocean-front home off the Pacific Palisades. Shaft had remained silent and withdrawn up to now. He turned meekly to Admiral Walrus, cleared his throat and spoke nervously. “Admiral Walrus….requesting your indulgence, sir, but Dr. Zaftig is quite correct. Casey – and the other 19 muscle specimens – does indeed exist. And his specifications and dimensions are just as Dr. Zaftig is presenting them to be tonight.” Walrus grunted. “After all, Admiral Walrus,” said Zaftig smoothly, “Dr. Shaft is your own representative in Project Herculaneum.” “And they’re all living here in this compound?” he demanded. “Now? Tonight?” “Yes, sir. They’re all in residence here at Valhalla Labs. You can see them for yourself in a few minutes, if you wish. In fact, we have planned on it.” A moment passed. Walrus resumed. “Get on with it, then,” he muttered. “It’s a waste of my time, but get on with it.” He snorted. “Admiral Walrus, sir,” said Dr. Shaft, placating him with superior charm. “Dr. Zaftig and the team at Valhalla are indeed introducing a species of super-beings. I have had the opportunity to personally review them myself in the not-too-distant past.” For years, Dr. Shaft had upon occasion enjoyed the discreet company of out of town young male visitors from Venice, California in his West Coast home, whose ‘careers’ on the bodybuilding competition stage he had generously funded. When Zaftig’s informant, one retired pro bodybuilder by the name of Miles Donovan, revealed Shaft’s little secret, Zaftig knew he had an ally, if an unwilling one, amongst the Joint Chiefs. He’d played his cards right, and covertly brought Shaft in months before for an unofficial unveiling. Shaft had been stunned into fawning speechlessness, and gratefully accepted a deal in exchange for support. Zaftig found the man useful but repugnant. And now - review the men? Is that what he calls it? “Let’s not exaggerate, Dr. Shaft. I haven’t created a species. After all, I’m not Victor Frankenstein,” Zaftig said humorously. “Aren’t you?” asked Dr. Shaft. “Who are they? Where did they come from?” asked General Wampum, glaring at Shaft. “They all came to me on their own at different times during the last 18 years,” replied Dr. Zaftig. “On their own, they were already splendid specimens, ranging in age from 18 to 40. Though I searched them all out personally, no one was recruited. Moreover, their dedication to this project is unquestioned.” Zaftig’s audience began to murmur. “This is crazy,” said Wampum. “Crazy?” Zaftig responded, his voice raising. “Crazy, you say? I assure you, General Wampum, these men are real and at the height of their development.” The officers all seemed to speak at once. “Perhaps, to satisfy your doubts, I might pause and take some of your questions now.” “They’re volunteers?” “Are they soldiers or civilians?” “What are their backgrounds?” “How about their general health? Are they medical freaks?” “Are they even Americans?” Walrus demanded to know. “Are they even human?” asked Wampum. “Dr. Zaftig, I have a question.” Sam raised his hand. Walrus half turned, but nodded, permitting the question. Ensign Victor may look like just a pretty boy, but he has brains and guts, Walrus thought. His gesture silenced the group, and he allowed the Ensign the floor with a slight nod of his head. “You haven’t mentioned I.Q. How sharp is Casey’s intellect?” For the first time so far that evening, Zaftig seemed to hesitate. He recovered instantly, but Sam caught momentary crack in the façade. “Casey has the normal requirements of intelligence for a gifted soldier,” he answered. Aha. “This man’s a soldier? He’s enlisted in the US Army?” demanded Admiral Walrus. General Wampum preened a little. “Casey Rockland holds the rank of Private 1st Class in the US Army,” repeated Zaftig, but offered no more information. “Dammit, Wampum, why didn’t you know this?” Walrus demanded. General Wampum stopped preening and slumped in his seat. General Needling came to his defense. “We didn’t know any more about this than you did, Walrus,” he growled. Zaftig turned back to the image of flexing Casey, resuming his presentation as if nothing had happened. He brought his pointer up, lightly touching the tip to the biceps of the left arm. “Note the triple biceps head,” he continued. “The unusually separated deltoids, and the dynamically thick trapezius muscles.” His pointer lightly tapped each muscle group as he spoke. “You see the unusually dense vascularity. Also, pay special attention to Casey’s thin skin. Men with this low bodyfat are often cold, their own bodies incapable of supplying sufficient heat, and their skin can be fragile. Casey is never cold. His metabolism prevents it. And his skin is as tough as rawhide.” I’ll just bet, thought Sam. Zaftig clicked through a series of images showing Casey stripped down in different posing straps, in a various array of training room shots and routines. He lingered on a final image of Casey in a deep leg squat, a barbell of several hundred pounds weight resting easily on his shoulders. His hams were so thick they almost touched the floor. Behind him his butt curved powerfully upward. Far from grimacing at the colossal weight, Casey’s handsome face appeared serene. The auditorium pinged with tense silence. The officers stared hard at Dr. Zaftig. Zaftig gazed calmly back, his mouth now a thin line of determination. Behind him at the head of the table, the screen was frozen with Casey in deep squat suspension, the only light in the dimmed room. Zaftig resumed airily. “Casey Rockland and the other 19 perfectly-developed specimens not only are living and training full time in this very facility, they’re thriving. Within this very complex, these 20 perfect men completed their second shift in another day’s hard training protocol 30 minutes ago. They’ve showered and changed two levels below us while we’ve been talking. In fact, they’re not more than 100 feet away from where you’re sitting now.” Sam’s ears perked up. Zaftig placed his palms on the dais table and leaned in towards the uniformed officers. “I am ready to present them to you now, if you wish.” He let the statement sink in for impact, and pushed away from the table. Behind the Generals and Admiral Walrus, the Junior Officers shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. All except Sam. This is getting interesting, he thought. “Perhaps I should do just that,” Dr. Zaftig said, “We might amend the agenda tonight. I think we need to break a little early. You all probably want to see the results for yourselves. Only then can you make an informed determination for your report.” He crossed toward the stage apron and turned to the group. “If you will all will be so good as to accompany me into the lab?” Confusion. The officers look dumbly at one another. Even Walrus said nothing. No one moved. Zaftig clicked his remote again, and the screen rose. “Dr. Irving?” he called out, climbing the stairs to the stage. “We’re coming into the lab now. Get the men ready.” He flicked some switches on a panel and the stage lights came up. At the back of the stage, a white-coated lab technician appeared, opening double doors. Beyond, the white glare of Valhalla Laboratories was revealed. “Admiral Walrus, Dr. Shaft, General Needling, Gentlemen: if you’ll all follow me.” Zaftig turned without a backward glance and crossed the stage to the opened lab doors. He turned and beckoned the group to follow him. A moment later the group rose, and with some uncomfortable putting away of laptops which had been hiding bulges, and with embarrassing shifting of slacks and trousers, which told the telltale signs of arousal, they crossed the stage and entered the lab. And with the notable exceptions of Walrus and Wampum, Zaftig noted with some satisfaction, that every man in uniform was sporting a straight-ahead trouser trout bulge. ******* Click below for the next chapter! "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed

Hi everyone! Welcome to Chapter Three. This chapter came about a few days ago as I was working out with a friend of mine and we talked about body dysmorphic issues we both have with out bodies, and how we both see ourselves as the fat kids we used to be. I haven't been fat for a long time now... but I have trouble not thinking of myself that way. The transformation sequence in this chapter comes from what my friend said he would evolve into if he had to become what he really was deep down inside. I think he enjoyed telling me about it too much!! Enjoy!!!! The Test Chapter Three: Destruction Chad and Jacob emerged from the ether outside Chariots in Vauxhall. Jacob had never been to a gay sauna before, but as he gazed upward toward his friend, he could see that Chad was practically vibrating with excitement. - Can you feel it? Each man in there is calling out to me. As each one experiences lust, desire, orgasm, or experiences any form of sexual stimulation, it is like a call out to my soul. I can hardly control myself. It is taking every ounce of strength I have not to take you right here, Jacob. I need to be among them. Chad walked away from Jacob and approached the door. Without even touching it, the door swung open, and he stepped inside. Jacob ran after him, nervous to be alone. William who had passed out towels and charged the entrance fee at Chariots for seven years was bored with it all. He had seen everything and there were no surprises… that was until the wind blew the door open, and the man in skin tight leather pants strode in. He had to bend down to get his muscle mass through the door. It also looked as if the door suddenly stretched itself to allow the man into the room, but no doubt that illusion was only due to the sudden heat that filled the room. William was instantly hard… something that hadn’t happened in 24 years, and he waved the man through without asking either he or his small friend for the 20 pound entry fee. He must have been so enraptured by the mere sight of this God standing in his presence that as he walked away into the next room, it seemed as if the leather pants disintegrated from his body, and he was totally naked. I definitely need to get my eyesight checked, William thought as the man’s perfect ass and back disappeared from sight. William placed his hand on his erection, the hardest it had been since he was 15. Waves of intense horniness passed over him, and he could barely think straight. Fuck it, he thought as he got up from his stool, and followed the man in. He needed to be with him… worship him like the God he obviously was. The sound of sex was everywhere as Jacob and Chat entered the main room of the spa. Fog filled the air and the smell of poppers came from every directions. There appeared to be twenty men in the room. Some were fucking, some were observing, some were masturbating, and others were simply talking to each other while stroking their cocks. Chad observed his disciples with pride. With one thought, Chad closed his eyes and released his scent into every molecule of air. It traveled quickly throughout the room reaching each and every man. Silence quickly overtook it. One by one, each man slowly stopped whatever they were doing and walked over to Chad. At first, they only stared, afraid to touch him. Filled with his own uncontrollable desires, Jacob moved next to his friend and began to lick and clean the deep grooves between his abs. As if Jacob had singlehandedly broken the damn, every man began to touch Chad, caress him, lick him, kiss him, and even fuck him. Soon Chad was brought to the floor by the men so they could better pleasure him. Sill not satisfied, Chad called out for more worshipers. From miles away, men who were straight, gay, and questioning stopped what they were doing and made their way to Chariots. Three blocks away the local gay theatre company stopped performing their production of Beautiful Thing when nearly every member of the audience (five lesbians remained in their seats) stood up and left the auditorium with the group desire to worship Chad. Even the cast walked away from the stage and followed the audience to Chariots. Within one hour of Chad being there, hundreds of men filled the room. They each took turns fucking Chad and even trying to be fucked by him. A few dedicated fisters succeeding in having him slightly enter them, and were rewarded with the most intense orgasms they had ever had. Every inch of Chad was covered with men pleasing him. Soon he could not hold back, and he began to spray the populace with his seed. Each man took in as much as they could, enjoying the sweet ambrosia that flowed from his loins. Momentarily awaken from his sexual haze, Jacob could hear each man emanating a sound from deep within their souls. It was a word. - Eros! Eros! Eros! - Why are they saying that? - They know that is my name. - I thought it was Chad. - Chad was my human name. Eros is now the name I possess. A wave of sadness filled Jacob. He suddenly realized his friend was gone to him. Chad had never really needed him, but there had been a certain bond between them that had seemed special. Now that he was a God, Chad, or rather Eros, needed nobody. The God of Sex and Lust didn’t need a human wingman or hanger-on. Jacob began to separate himself from the group and walk away. Noticing his friend was gone, Chad turned and with his powerful hand, picked Jacob up and deposited him onto his massive chest. - You can still call me Chad. I’d like that. As hundreds of men brought pleasure to his body, Chad moved his large head toward Jacob. Without any supernatural influence, both men began to kiss… softly at first, and then filled with more passion. It was the best sensation either had ever felt, and Chad began to cum again. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Chaos materialized outside the lab building close to the Jeep Jacob had driven to his house. How long ago that time seemed, and how pathetic his life had been then. He had been a man pretending to be a God… yet here he was… a God disguising himself as a man. He breathed in deeply and attempted to get the whereabouts of the one he could only describe as his ‘new-formed brother.’ As he attempted to locate he and Jacob, a psychic punch threw him backward onto the pavement. Something powerful was blocking him from learning their location. Sparks of lightening shot from his eyes. His desire was to kill every human in his path with one blow… but he attempted to control his craving. There must be another way. Chaos stood up, dusted himself off, and moved closer to the Jeep. Taking a deep breath, he took in its scent. From the sensory explosion in his mind, he knew this was indeed his brother’s vehicle. He could smell human sweat mixed with cologne mixed with sex coming from the machine. Images of the many men his new-formed brother had fucked flooded his mind, and Chaos grew angry. How easily this man had lived his human gay life. Men had fallen at his feet, and he took them for granted. He took is existence for granted. Simply out of spite, Chaos reached out to his ex-wire and caused her to stumble and injure her back. Chaos grinned as he saw this occur in his mind. She was the one who had idiotically gotten pregnant. She was the one that had demanded a second child. She was the one who had entrapped him in a marriage and life he couldn’t stand. Anger bubbled inside of him again, and he threw is ex into a second contraction of pain. He clenched his fist tight as he continued the agonizing pain pulsating through her body. When he felt she could handle no more, he continued for another minute before setting her free. Returning to the Jeep, Chaos flicked his forked tongue at it, receiving tiny chemical molecules of information. In moments, he knew the exact location his brother had been in prior to arriving at the lab. A gym. Of course it was. The hunt was on. Now the fun could begin. Dark mist swirled around the figure of Chaos, and he disappeared. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Adrian Brooks shut off the foyer lights and turned the lock in the gym door. What had once been a massive old warehouse with immensely tall ceilings had been converted three years ago into a gym that catered to casual gym goers and muscle heads alike. Admiring the empty gym club, he admitted that this was his favorite time of the day. This was when he had the place and all of its machines all to himself, and he could work out in peace. All day he sat behind the desk welcoming patrons, answering questions, making smoothies, and cleaning white towels. The next two hours he had, working out on his own always made up for the prior eight. Adrian was a self-proclaimed gym rat, and he took no offence when people told him that he had only one real love: his body. It was a true. He took better care of his body then anyone he knew, and would rather work out then go to a pub any night. He hadn’t always been this way. Adrian had been a fat child, unhealthily attracted to chips and Coke over veg and water. Believing she was showering love on her only child, Adrian’s mother overfed him every chance she could. By fifteen, Adrian was severely overweight, had several health conditions including chronic anxiety, was bullied at school, and hand the lowest of self-esteems. One day in July two years ago, despising that he needed to hide his body behind baggy track pants and sweatshirts and couldn’t wear the shorts and skinny jeans he saw other men sporting, he decided to take his life into his hands. He began cooking his own healthy food, jogging little by little every day, and began reading up on current health and nutrition. In October of that same year, after loosing more than four stone, Adrian took his first step into a gym. With money he had saved from birthday’s and Christmases, he hired a personal trainer to show him the ropes. In no time at all he saw the faint outline of muscles replacing the fat that had once possessed his body. In a year and a half, Adrian was half the size he had been, proudly showing off his newborn pecs and biceps, and wearing the tightest clothes possible. When the front desk job at the gym became available, he jumped at it. The job meant working out for free and spending all of his time in a place he thought of as his second home. Now at age 20, Adrian stood before the mirror and flexed. He had come a long way, but still there was room for improvement. Removing his T-shirt, he focused on each muscle group, flexing in the mirror, and then judging and debating what he needed to do next to make them larger and more prominent. He knew he needed to shave his chest again. The light brown hair that coated his pecs and flowed down over his abs matched the hair on his head and stubble that had risen on his face today. Now that the gym was empty, he could do the one thing he had fallen in love with doing: working out in only a jock strap. Lifting without any clothes on allowed him to easily tune his mind with his body when he could clearly see the pump he was getting. When he opened his own gym one day, he would encourage this. Of course, it also sexual aroused him, but this was beside the point. Anything to do with muscle turned him on. He lived his life for muscle morning, noon, and night, and nothing would stop that. Adrian stacked the plates on the sleeves of the bar and began his set of bench presses with a cool 175. He completed 20 reps with this, and returned the bar to the catcher. He stood up and wet to load 25 more on each side when the lights in the gym began to flicker and go out. The emergency lights turned on, and the room was slightly illuminated, but mostly bathed in shadows. The temperature in the gym appeared to Adrian to also be rising, and he wondered if something was wrong with the Shoreditch powergrid. Beads of sweat began to emerge on his forehead and upper lip, so he reached for his towel and dried himself off. As he turned, he could see what appeared to be the air on his right ripple and bend. What could only be dismissed as an optical illusion or the sudden rise in temperature, Adrian leaned down and reached for his water bottle to cool off. - Could you be of some assistance? Adrian spit out some of his water, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the man speak. Looking to the shadows that bathed most of the space, he saw a man clothed all in black standing halfway across the room. - I’m sorry, mate. We’re closed. Adrian wanted to ask the man how he had gotten into the building, but he couldn’t help admiring the muscular physique he had. The man standing in front of him was simply immense with a size, that was practically unheard of. Most certainly a professional body builder, he thought, and a friend of the owner. He no doubt had his own key. That’s how he got in. Damn his size was monstrous. - I was just finishing locking up and going home myself. Thought I would get a quick chest workout in, but honestly, I’m knackered. I really should be getting home. Do you often work out here? I’ve been coming here for two years, but only started working here about six months ago. Adrian stopped talking because he knew he was just blathering on. The man dressed all in black simple stared at him and smiled. - No. I’ve never been here before. Though I doubt the equipment here could give me the pump I require. The man bounced his pecs for Adrian causing him to get slightly hard in his jock. Slowly the man walked closer to where Adrian was sitting, touching pieces of equipment as he passed. Each piece he touched suddenly rusted before Adrian’s eyes, and collapsed into a pile of dust on the floor. In shock, it took Adrian nearly twenty seconds of seeing this before he moved to run in the opposite direction. As he hoisted himself up to run into the locker room, his arms supernaturally turned completely to rubber, stretched, and distorted themselves around the bench press machine, tying themselves in a tight knot and forcing him to lie still on the bench. Although his arms were totally made of rubber now, the pain he could feel was agonizing, and any movement he made instigated the torment to rise. Closer and closer the man came until he stood right before Adrian. - You’re going to help me, aren’t you… little man? - What do you want? - Tell me who this is. The image of Chad developed in the mirror in front of Adrian. - That’s Chad. Chad Mitchell. - More. - He’s a trainer here. I think he’s worked here for a year now. - More. - I don’t really know any more. I swear. I don’t really know him. Chaos grinned and sat himself down on the bench as close to Adrian as the massive man could. With one figure, he began to stroke Adrians chest. For a moment Adrian was afraid he was going to touch him and he would disintegrate like the machines, but nothing happened. - More. - Ummm… he’s not a bad guy… he can be a bit of a jerk… kind of full of himself. - And have you ever seen this man? An image of Jacob took Chad’s place. - Yeah. That’s Jacob something or other. I don’t remember. They work out together. - Right. Chaos took his nail and began to run it over Adrian’s nipple. - And where do you think I could find Chad Mitchell. - I have no clue. I really don’t. I’m sorry. I really want to help, but he left hours ago. Chaos started flicking Adrian’s right nipple. - Hours ago? How many hours. - I don’t remember…it’s what… 9 now? I think he left at 5 or 6 Chaos continued to flick and play with Adrian’s right nipple. With lightening speed, Chaos squeezed his nipple tight sending shockwaves through Adrian. When he let go, milk abruptly started to pour from it. Chaos leaned over, and with his snake-like tongue lapped it up. - That is your fear leaking out of you… and it tastes delicious. - I want to help… please! Maybe he’s at XXL. He talks about going there a lot. Chaos grabbed the left nipple and proceeded to squeeze that one as well. Like the other, milk began to flow. Like a thirsty animal, Chaos continued to lap up the milk, his tongue burning Adrian as it touched his skin. - Please, God!! Please help me!! Chaos looked Adrian in the eyes and laughed. - The God you call on has abandoned you. Only Chaos remains. - Let me look in the files to find his address. I’m sure it has to be there. - Truthfully… the thought of my brother tires me at the moment. I’m suddenly much more engrossed in you at the moment. You taste so marvelous. You want to play some more with me… don’t you? Chaos rose to his feet and stood before Adrian. Mist whirled around the lowermost half of Chaos, and his black jeans and boots evaporated and in their place were two muscular horse legs and the most enormous hooves Adrian had ever seen. Chaos grabbed onto the hairy shaft that extended down the middle of his legs and began to stroke it, causing what was inside to elongate and harden. From within the shaft, Adrian could see a ginormous horse cock begin to emerge. - It’s time to play, Adrian. It’s time for you to play with Chaos. Without knowing how it happened, Adrian found the bench that had been supporting him had disappeared, and he was naked, and his arms were now tied to a metal rack, bending him over, ready for Chaos to fuck. An invisible finger began to play with Adrian’s hole, forcefully trying to open him up further. - Please, don’t! Please! I’ll do anything to help you! Anything!! Chaos stopped, frozen in place. He tried to lift his feet from the ground but found that he couldn’t. Even with all his strength and might, Chaos found himself immobile. Mist wrapped itself around his legs, and he was once again clothed in his tight black jeans and knee-high boots. Chaos screamed into the shadows of the empty room: - Who’s doing this? His scorpion tail tore through the ass of his jeans and swung wildly around behind him. Since he was facing away from Chaos, Adrian wasn’t sure what was occurring, but he could hear the loud sound of destruction the tail was making as it swung around, smashing into the mirror and overturning machines. - I have allowed you your little temper tantrums and show of dominance… but not it is my turn to display my power. See how… like a puppet... I control you. At the mere sound of Asarualimnunna’s voice ringing in his head, anger welled up in Chaos. - No one controls me! The tail swung and shattered another of the mirrors. - Quiet!!!! An invisible sword cut through Chaos’ tail, severing it from his body. With a heavy thud, it fell to the floor, twitching as if it were still alive, and then dissolving into a puddle of sludge. - I am your Creator! I control you! I have always controlled you! Say it to me now, or I shall snuff you out of existence. Through gritted teeth, Chaos spoke the dreaded words: - You are my creator. You control me. - Good. I will destroy you, Chaos though. I will destroy you. - Now, as you play with this human, Eros has gained nearly 150 worshipers. In his mind eye, Chaos could see Eros being worshipped from head to toe; each second more joined in the revelry. - You’ve disappointed me, Declan. I had such high hopes for you. Hearing his human name spoken by Asarualimnunna shamed Chaos down to his core… and enraged him. - Let me play the role of Creator then. Let me give you this human to help free you from your prison. Eros is doing nothing to help you. I am here to do your bidding. - Unfortunately, you have proven yourself untrustworthy. - Try me. If I fail you, then be my judge and executioner. Silence. Chaos wondered what Asarualimnunna’s decision would be. He received his answer when Adrian appeared standing in front of him. Adrian wasn’t sure what had happened and what had freed him from being raped by the man in black’s massive horse cock, but whoever did it, he was forever grateful. If only they would take him away from this psychopath. Adrian’s heart beat quickly as he saw the man in Black slowly begin to grow larger and larger, ripping through his clothes. His back snapped right below his Adonis belt as two massive horse legs grew to join the two already standing on the floor. The man’s torso grew longer and harrier, massive horns grew from his head, and a large scorpions tail swung from his hind end. When the transformation was complete, Adrian couldn’t believe what he was standing before. He had never seen something so incredible yet so filled with evil. - Look upon my true form, human. Larger and larger the creature grew until he towered feet above Adrian, his mighty horns nearly impaling the ceiling. - You have been chosen by Asarualimnunna and myself to take your place among the God’s. - Please let me go. - You beg for mercy when all I want to do is free you. I look within you and all I see is sadness. Let me be the father you never had. Let me give you the universe. Let me give you power beyond your wildest dreams. The words echoed in Adrian’s head. He wanted to close his ears so he couldn’t listen to the massive Centaur, but Chaos had a way of entering into his soul. - Tell me what you are. - Please - Tell me what you are. - I’m nothing. - That is not true. Look within yourself and tell me what you are. - I can’t. - Look at what I was. The image of a stern middle-aged man with grey thinning hair and with a half-way decent physique appeared before Adrian in the mirror. This was once the creature that stood before him, thought Adrian. This fairly average looking man was now so imposing, so regal, so god-like. - Simply from looking within, I discovered what I really was, and Chaos was born. Look within yourself. Look. Afraid of what he might see, Adrian looked within and saw himself at 16, fat and lazy. Hating this image, he tried to run from it but it engulfed him until it was all he could see. No, he thought. This isn’t me. Not anymore. As he fought his past, the image began to morph until it became what he was today. - What are you, son? - I’m muscle. - Yes. Look deeper. - I am strength. - Yes!! - I am muscle built upon muscle. - Continue! - I am perfection. I am stronger then any man who has entered this building. I tower over them. - Are you my soldier? - No…. I… I think I’m more. - I know you are… and now you must take your place. Through the many realms of existence, the birthplace of all supremacy began to glow, powering the gem stone. Rays of light shot from the gemstone in the laboratory and into the ether. Chaos felt it enter into his soul. Taking in Adrian as he stood there, Chaos released it through his eyes. The moment the beam hit him, Adrian feared every word he had said. - No! Please! I don’t want this! - You have looked within and admitted what you are. The power now fills you. Adrian felt every inch of his body start to slowly vibrate with a power that came from the God’s. He tried to fight it with all of his mental capacity, but found it harder and harder to concentrate on anything but his body. He was his body. He was muscle. What else did he need to be? Perhaps the man was right… - No!!! - Don’t fight destiny, Adrian! I can feel the power filling you, caressing you, embracing you. - You can’t have me. - I already do. Stop fighting me and become what you were always meant to be. Adrian fell to his knees. The energy that coursed through every cell of his body was quickly raising his temperature. Sweat poured out of every pore. Chaos flicked his tongue and enjoyed the scent emanating from Adrian. Any second now it will begin, he thought with a wicked smile. Any second I will have my first soldier. Adrian screamed out in agony. He opened his eyes but found it difficult to focus. When he closed them, all he saw were the visages of armies of muscular men… each larger then the other. They were calling to him. Join us, they said. Take your place among us. Adrian reached out his hand to touch the herculean image that had appeared in his mind’s eye and discovered that it was him. When the two hands met, his word exploded. The sound of bones shattering filled Chaos’ ears as Adrian cried out. Every bone in his body was cracking and becoming lengthier and denser. His spine began to elongate as both his legs and arms grew further from his core. The bones of his skull cracked and rearranged themselves as the skeleton underneath grew and refined itself. Adrian reached for his face, trying to hold it together, but found it difficult to control his elongating hands. Through the pain, he opened his eyes and gazed at himself in the mirror. He could no longer identify himself from the stretched out creature he saw revealed in the mirror. Minutes before he had only stood 5’6, but now he had to be nearing 6 feet. He tried to stand erect, but his feet were too long… everything about him was too long. Once again, he tried to stand, and found that with time he was able to balance himself. His head rose up past the mirror now and continued his journey. Through his fear, Adrian heard himself giggle. Once he was looked down upon by everyone… now he would stand above them all. He laughed again but was thrown off balance by his own body. He landed on his ass with a thud. Looking at himself in the mirror again it looked as if all of his hard gains had been stretched out over his body forcing him to look like a tall emaciated skeleton. He crawled to the mirror the best he could and looked at himself closer. The heat emanating from his core was slowly tanning his body to a golden brown. If he didn’t look so sickly skinny, he would have thought it was the healthiest he had ever looked in his life. As he continued to examine himself, the stretching stopped, and there was silence. Adrian slowly got to his feet and moved away from the mirror so he could see himself completely. From what he could guess, he had to be nearly 7 feet tall. His face had elongated and thinned drastically, and the nose that had been broken twice by his drunk father had repositioned itself into a perfect Roman configuration. His jaw was sharp and angular, and his lips had a slightly pouty look he had never had before. Due to the massive heat emanating from him, every single hair on his body had fallen out and now lay on the floor… even his eyebrows. His torso was incredibly extended, finishing with the longest and scrawniest legs and arms he had ever seen. Even his penis had elongated. It flopped down in front of him half way to his knees and was as thin as an earthworm. When he grabbed the disgusting thing with his skeletal hand, it could have easily encircled it several times. With terror in his eyes, Adrian looked to the man in Black. - What have you done to me? - Patience, my son. That was only the beginning. Chaos blinked, and the energy flowed from within him again, and into Adrian. Adrian was thrown back slightly, but he maintained his balance as he felt his body getting heavier and heavier with muscle mass. - I’m growing! Adrian relished in the feeling of his muscles multiplying on his body. Larger and thicker each muscle became. No longer did his legs look like sticks, but massive tree trunks with awe inspiring calves and quads. A light dusting of blonde hair began on his legs and spilled lightly up the newly formed cobblestone abs. One by one Adrian’s abs popped out firmer and thicker, the crevices between them growing deeper. Adrian lusted after this perfect six-pack that was appearing on his lower torso, and just when he thought he couldn’t get enough, two more appeared on top. An eight pack!! I can’t believe it, he thought!! His waist caved in deeper giving Adrian the most awe inspiring and physically illogical wasp body. His waist was a mere 32 inches and his chest erupted into a massive 58 inches. Adrian felt up his own chest, loving the pecs that had grown there and the deep crevice that had formed between them. As he touched his nipples, the areoles grew larger, darker, and more sensitive. Adrian’s lats spread out wide from his back, but his arms, which were hard and full, were long enough and in proportion to this incredible form that they still rested down on his sides. His neck became a wonderful column of muscle holding up a beautifully sculptured face. Muscle sculpted his face till it would remind one of a statue created with care by one of the masters. Blonde hair grew out of Adrian’s head, long and full, going down past his shoulders. The final organ to form on this perfect specimen of manly beauty was his penis. It grew thicker with a bulbous head. His pubic hair grew in blond as well, brushing the ball sack, which held two oranges in there, proving to the world how virile he now was. When the growth finally stopped, Adrian stood before the mirror in utter awe. He had never seen such a beautiful manly form as himself. Every inch was pure perfection. There was not a blemish nor a spot nor a mark on any part of his body. Hair grew in all of the “right” places, and every muscle was in impeccable proportion and symmetry. Perfect was all he could think of when he looked at himself. Adrian’s hands couldn’t stop touching every inch of his body. He looked to Chao’s and smiled. The Centaur looked down at him. - What do you think, my son? - I’m perfect. - Yes. - So beautiful… yet so manly. Adrian shook his hair and laughed as it fell around his shoulders. He looked again at the man in black and saw that he was smiling, but there was something dark in his eyes. Was he attracted to my new form, Adrian wondered? Now that he was larger he might be physically able to take the man’s cock, but did he want to? Not wanting to appear ungrateful for what he was given, Adrian approached the Centaur. - Thank you. Thank you so much! - Thank you… father. - Thank you, father. - Are you satisfied? - Yes!! Totally!! - Really? I’m just not sure I am yet. Maybe your pecs need to be bigger. Adrian’s pecs started to swell larger before his eyes. Rounder and fuller they grew. Pound upon pound was added to his pecs until they threatened to block his view of his lower body. - No. That’s not it. Maybe it’s your body hair I don’t like. Blonde hair began to sprout all over Adrian’s chest, getting fuller and bushier. The hair traveled down his abs, coating them but never covering them. - No! That isn’t it either!! Chaos looked deeply into Adrians eyes and smiled a wicked smile. - I know exactly what it is. The magnificently huge Centaur walked behind Adrian, and placed his hands on his shoulders. Gently… almost too gently… he turned Adrian so that he was once again looking at his reflection. - You looked within, but you wouldn’t look deep enough. You looked and saw only what society told you you should be. Just as you tried to build a body the world would love, you created this mask that is still covering the true you. You still want the world to love you, don’t you Adrian? - Of course. - I will teach you something now I learned long ago… the world will never love people like you and I. They despise us. They always have and they always will… until we force them to love us. Think of all of the people that have hurt you. Your father beat you, belittled you, broke your nose several times, and then abandoned you. Your mother’s affection only harmed you, and when bullies attacked you and made fun of you every day at school, what did anyone do? - Nothing. - Exactly. They allowed it to continue. It seemed they even welcomed it. Chaos continued to speak, evenly and intensely, and the words buried themselves deep within Adrian’s soul… slowly forming a bitter fruit there. - Even when you did something for yourself, lost weight, built a new body, did anyone notice? Did anyone really care? - No. - Did your life change for the better? - No A tear fell from Adrian’s right eye. - No. Even here… the place you love more than anywhere else in the world… does anyone really respect you? Treat you as an equal? They watch as you serve them and clean up their mess, but never really see you. People like Chad Mitchell will never really see you, will they? You asked him out once, didn’t you? - Yes. - When you had gathered the courage, convinced yourself that you were his equal, what did he do? - He told me no. He told me I was too young for him. - He laughed at you. Chaos conjured up the image of Adrian asking Chad out for coffee, and it appeared like a movie on the mirror. Chad thanked Adrian, told him he was flattered, but that Adrian was too young for him, that he should ask out someone his own age. Adrian, dejected walked away. Chad watched after him, and then started laughing. “As if!!!” Chad said to the departing figure. “You think you could touch this?!” Chad flexed his bicep in the mirror and licked it. “Fuckin fatties are always lusting after me. Hate it!” The image of Chad froze on the mirror. Tears fell freely from Adrian’s eyes. - They all laugh, Adrian… until you give them a reason not to. Look at me. No one will ever laugh at me again. I looked deep… deep within and I discovered what I was. Let me help you. Let me show you the way. You aren’t this, Adonis, are you? - I want to be. - Of course you do, but for the world it will never be enough. Let them truly see you, Adrian. Let them hear you. Let them fear you. - Yes… yes… They need to see me. - Exactly. - They all need to pay for what they’ve done. - They will, my son. I promise you. Now, look deep within. Is this really you? - No. - Tell me what you see. - Muscle. I am muscle upon muscle. - Yes. - Muscle creating dominance. - Yes. - Muscle creating supremacy! - Yes! - I’m bigger, more immense then anyone! They scream in terror and awe at the sight of me!! - Yes!! - The whole world fears me, for with one word I can bring upon their destruction. - YES!!!! - That is what I am. I am Destruction. Simply saying the word caused Adrian’s voice to fall several octaves, and caused Chaos’ loins to stir. The power build up once again inside of Chaos and shot out of both of his eyes and into Adrian. Knowing that more was needed, Chaos opened his mouth wide, and a beam of light emanated from it into Adrian as well Adrian screamed as all three rays hit him at once. Within moments, he was growing again. His legs exploded in size, becoming so freakishly muscular that he was forced to spread his legs as wide as they could go just so that he could continue standing… and still they continued to pack on muscle. His feet got larger and thicker, and his toes quadrupled in size in order to hold up the immeasurable mass of his legs. When it seemed that they could no longer balance such columns of muscle, they mutated, his immense big toes shifting down and more toward the middle of his feet, creating what could only be described as a massive hybrid of human and gorilla feet, enabling him more room for control and balance, and of course, growth. Just when he thought he couldn’t spread his legs any further, the pelvic bone of the man once known as Adrian split and dislocated, growing and reforming in order for his legs to gain more and more muscle mass. Enormous veins wove themselves over the surface of his legs trying desperately to feed the colossal quads and calves. The creature once known as Adrian felt only relief and pleasure as he let himself go and evolved into his true form. Gone was the Adonis belt as his abs grew bigger, thicker, heavier, and the grooves between them grew deeper. His stomach appeared to distend creating a powerful roid gut, accentuated by an impossibly jaw dropping 15 pack that grew on it. Adrian rubbed the cobblestones of his stomach wishing them greater and more enormous. Even the sight of his stomach must cause fear. Just thinking it caused more freakish abdominal muscles to grow until he possessed an unheard of 18 pack. The creature screamed out as his rib cage cracked and split, quadrupling in size, giving more room for his massive chest to grow… and grow it did. Pound upon pound of muscle deposited itself on his pecs forcing them to become rounder, fuller, and denser. The creature drooled, happy at no longer being able to see his lower half. Bigger, he thought. Make me mightier!!! Lost in the sensation of every muscle in his body growing out of control, Destruction grinned as he had difficulty lifting the heavy arms that were growing nearly as large and as veiny as his legs. With only lust and muscle in mind, he began to massage his pecs with his ginormous hands. As he massaged his pecs, the creature noticed that something was starting to force them slowly upward toward his chin. Moving his hands down, he discovered what felt like two more nipples emerging from the skin under his pecs. Squeezing them, he discovered that they were indeed two new sensitive nipples. With what sounded like an explosion erupting from his chest, another set of massive pecs burst out and formed under the original. Yes, he thought, pinching and rubbing the massive thumb sized nipples on his new pecs. If two are incredible, four are simply amazing!! The two newly grown pecs grew larger in size till Destruction’s torso was forced to begin stretching and growing upward again to form more room. Taller and taller he rose, growing closer to the high ceilings of the gym. He was thankful that this building had such high ceilings, but even more grateful that his body was creating more space to pack on more muscle. Destruction’s lateral muscles grew more gigantic, compelling his mammoth arms away from his side. When he did try to set his arms down against this side, he was not only prevented by his lat span, but by two large lumps that had formed two feet below his arm pits. Trying his best to look in the mirror as it got further away, he saw the lumps getting larger and larger, pulsating with a power from within. The pressure built up underneath them until they finally erupted like two volcanic pimples, forcing out two new colossal arms. Destruction roared as the two additional arms gained size to match their brothers. They were nearly impossible to control at first, moving as if they had a mind of their own, until he found that through some concentration, he was finally able to manipulate them himself. Still he continued to grow taller and more muscular. Never had Chaos seen such a specimen as this manifestation of all of the anger the man once called Adrian had held down for so long. Dark brown hair erupted all over Destruction’s body, coating his arms, legs, and chest in a thick carpet. The hair on his head turned a dark brown, and a thick beard began to grown on his face becoming fuller by the minute. Standing nearly 13 feet tall, Destruction continued to grow. The world would definitely see him now. The world would quake at his massive feet. As if fuelled further by this new found anger that had been released inside of him, Destruction continued to transform. An angry ripping sound came from Destructions body as foot long razor sharp horns angrily erupted from his elbows and his shoulder blades. Raising all four of his might hands in front of him as best he could, Destruction laughed as one by one he made a tight fist, and ten inch horns began to protrude and curve from each of his upper knuckles. With his two upper arms, he easily dragged the horns of his hands across the ceiling ripping it apart. Material fell around him, but this only caused Destruction to laugh, his voice now so deep that it sounded more like an unearthly grumble. Destruction roared again, his mouth growing larger as he did. Two more rows of sharp pointed teeth forced their way through his gums behind his original teeth, creating a terrifying shark-like mouth. Exuding so much heat from his own transformation, sweat began to pour down Destruction’s brown onto his face and chest. The burning of the salt water started to irritate his eyes, so to the best of his ability, he tried to brush it away, but he found it impossible to even touch his eyes with his bloated muscular arms. The more he tried to wipe the sweat away, the more appeared to fall. Chaos watched as the colossus tried in vain to stop the odd flow of sweat. Soon though, he realized it was not simply sweat, but appeared as if Destruction’s own flesh from his forehead was turning to liquid and pouring down his face and puddling around his eyes. The liquid soon started to solidify, and like clay, began building a wall in front of his eyes. - What’s happening to me??!! Stop this now! - I’m sorry, but it’s all simply out of my control. The flesh continued to flow, building up more and more in front of his eyes until it finally covered them completely. The creature, now blinded, roared and stomped around the room causing devastation all around him. Loosing his balance, the colossus fell to the floor. Chaos watched as the flesh smoothed itself out on his forehead until it looked as if he eyes had never been there at all. - It burns! It burns!! A primal roar came from deep within Destruction as his brow ridge distended further causing an oddly masculine Neanderthal look to overtook Destructions face. The skin below the ridge began to bubble and flex, and with a loud rip, one massive red eye opened in the middle of his forehead. Arching his back, Destruction roared again. Chaos watched with excitement as the four massive nipples ripped open as well creating four more additional red eyes. - Look upon me!! Look at what I am becoming!! Destruction got to his feet with a deep bellowing laugh. Chaos could feel all five eyes on him… staring deep into him. - I will be seen!! I will be feared!!! Would you like to see another trick, father. - Show me. Destruction reached his two bottom hands down and began stroking his immense penis. The more he stroked it with animalistic force, the more it grew. As he jerked it, the shaft grew thicker and thicker, quickly tripling in size. The head continued to grown larger and more bulbous as well, overtaking the shaft with how thick and long it was itself. The most erotic and sensual feeling began to emanate from the massive shaft. Smiling and looking directly into Chaos’ eyes, Destruction stopped what he was doing. Suddenly with one quick flick, he dug the horns of his right hand into the underbelly of his penis. The beast roared out, but the sound appeared more like pleasure then pain. A moment later, Destruction lifted his left, and dug those horns into the top of his penis. Chaos expected blood to start flowing, but all he could see was the flesh of the penis moving and puddling on its own like clay. A thick river of pre began to flow from the bulbous head soaking the floor. Flexing his might biceps, Destruction pulled his arms apart, and with a loud ripping sound, Destruction’s thick cock split in half. The clay-like skin quickly formed around it, and within moments, Destruction possessed two immense penises, both now dripping free flowing pre. - What do you think of your son now? The two penises continued to grow larger, standing at attention. Using two hands to stroke his penises and two hands to massage his basketball sized testicles, Destruction brought himself to the most forceful of orgasms. Cum rocketed from both shafts, covering the floor and shattering the mirror. Asarualimnunna smiled as the wall into the fifth realm cracked and he could easily slip through. Standing now at an immense sixteen feet and weighing thousands upon thousands of pounds of pure muscle, Destruction had finally been born. Angrily he began to tear the building apart, wanting to free himself from his prison. - Calm, my son!! Destruction did as his loving father requested. - There will be plenty of time for you to show yourself to the world. First, we must find another to join our army against the common enemy…Eros. We must build it before he is able to, and if my calculations are correct, only four more will be able to be born. Come with me. I think I know the next perfect candidate.

Okay...this is my first story in years. Many...many years! But...I promised myself I would start writing again, and this is a story I've been working on over Christmas. I'm not sure if there is a Part Two or not. Let me know what you think...but be kind! Like I said... this is my first story in many years!!! The Test Chad hopped out of his jeep and ran up the twelve steps to Jacobs building. The lab was on the fourth floor, and no sooner had he entered the main doors, he was running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Seconds later, he was bursting through the door. ⁃ Where were you? This is the third time this week you stood me up. ⁃ I left you a message on your phone. I said I was too busy with work to go. ⁃ Too busy to keep the gains you’ve worked on for the past 8 months? It was leg day...and we both know you can’t afford to miss leg day! Chad looked down at his friend and grinned broadly. They had been working out together for nearly a year now, ever since Jacob had joined the gym where Chad was a personal trainer. The relationship had been strained at first. Jacob was naturally shy and insecure in the gym, but once they discovered a common trait: their love for hot men, their friendship flourished. Since then, they worked out together, hung out together, cried a couple of times on each other’s shoulders, and passed from simple gym pals to best friends. Oddly enough, there was never any sexual chemistry between the two, and Chad felt it was best this way. He didn’t have the best track record with men, breaking several hearts in the time he knew Jacob, and sleeping with many many more. He didn’t even think Jacob knew what a complete man-whore he actually was. He never told his friend about his countless sexual escapades, not because he feared Jacob would think less of him, but more because he never really acknowledged what he was...a man who loved sex very, very, very, VERY, much!! Jacob looked up at his friend wearing the craziest pair of glasses/magnifying apparatus Chad had ever seen. ⁃ I’m really in the middle of something. ⁃ I can see that. What is that thing, an emerald? Jacob looked down at the large stone he was holding in his hand, exhaled a sizeable sigh of frustration, and took the optivisor off his head. ⁃ No. It’s not an emerald. We have no clue what it really is. It wasn’t even green this morning? ⁃ What? Really? Chad sat his large frame in the chair nearest his friend. ⁃ How’s it changing colours? ⁃ I have no idea. So far since it was excavated three weeks ago, it’s been orange, red, purple, yellow, and pink. No rhyme or reason for the colour change. It just happens. Usually over night. ⁃ Where was it found? ⁃ A few miles outside Athens. Some colleges of mine are on a dig, excavating what appears to be an ancient agoge. ⁃ A what? ⁃ An agoge...a vigorous training academy for the military. ⁃ Was the stone captured in a raid? ⁃ There was nothing with it except this piece of parchment. Since I’m a gemologist, they sent it over to me to examine. They had to sneek it out of the country by Fed Ex, shoved and sealed in a can of coffee grinds. ⁃ Why? ⁃ They have some idea what it might be after taking a look at this parchment that they found near it. But since they can’t leave the dig for another four weeks without arousing suspicion, they sent it to me to keep safe. ⁃ Trusting friends. ⁃ It’s actually my ex, Elliott. He knew I wouldn’t say no, and I like a good puzzle. ⁃ What do they think it is? Jacob reached over and pressed the space bar of his laptop. The screen came to life, and with a few clicks of his mouth, found the document he was searching for. ⁃ Here’s a copy of the parchment. From what I can translate...this figure is some sort of cosmic king. ⁃ Zeus? ⁃ No. It almost appears as if he’s beyond even Zeus. ⁃ An alien? ⁃ Maybe. I don’t know. Whatever it is, he’s asking this warrior a riddle. When the warrior gets the riddle right, a beam of light shoots from the gem into the warrior, transforming him into what looks like a magnified version of himself....the perfect soldier. ⁃ Damn. ⁃ Yeah. ⁃ I guess you need the alien king to make it work. ⁃ Maybe. I’ve tried sending light through it. Here...look... Jacob got up from his desk and moved to the center of the room where an apparatus was placed. ⁃ I’ve put the gem stone here, and sent light through it from here into several rats and mice, but nothing. No change. Nothing. I’ve tried every wave length you can think of, several different power sources, and even natural sun and moonlight, but nothing. I’m at a loss. I tried the light from a laser this afternoon, but the rat just sat there happy as could be. It must need a mediator of some kind to make it work, but I’m not sure what. So...you can see why I’ve missed the gym the past couple of days. ⁃ Yeah. Why work out when you can build your own warrior rats here. Chad got up and moved to near where Jacob was standing. ⁃ Why didn’t I go to college instead of joining the Marines? I could be working on interesting shit like this instead of waiting for lazy PhD no-shows. ⁃ I said I was sorry, ⁃ Did you? ⁃ I think I did...and besides I’m doing this on the sly. My boss has been driving me crazy, having me put together a presentation for him that he has to present at a conference. What time is it? I have to bring it to him at his house by six. Jacob and Chad both looked at the clock across the room. ⁃ Good. Only 3:40. ⁃ Buddy, that clocks wrong. After you, I had Mrs. Walsh, and I got done with her at 6. It had to be at least 6:30 by now. ⁃ What? It can’t be! Chad looked down at his watch and showed it to Jacob. ⁃ 6:45 actually. ⁃ No! No...no...no! Fuck!! It can’t be!! Fuck!!! Jacob ran over and grabbed a Zip drive from his desk. ⁃ He’s going to kill me. I’ll never make it over there in time. I only have my bike with me... Fuck!!! ⁃ Take my Jeep. ⁃ What? ⁃ Here take my Jeep . How far away does he live? ⁃ About 20 minutes by bike... ⁃ So you’ll get there in no time with my Jeep. I’ll stay here and when you get back we can go for a drink. ⁃ Oh my God. Thank you so much. ⁃ No problem. I have a spot right outside. Just calm down and be careful. ⁃ I will. I promise. I’ll be right back, Grabbing Chad’s keys, Jacob tore out the door leaving Chad alone in the now empty lab. He could never be holed up in a room like this, examining stones and rats. He was too much of a physical person. He needed to be out and about either working out, or jogging, or any other of his physical hobbies. He never had any interest in scholarly pursuits. To him the stone was just a stone...even if it did apparently change colours and come with a pretty cool backstory. Chad picked up the stone and looked at the computer screen one more time. ⁃ So...the light goes through the stone and into the rat... *********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** Jacob parked the Jeep, turned it off, and got out slower then he wanted to. After that ordeal at Professor Lease’s house, he was both physically and mentally exhausted. He had to simply stand there as the older man berated him over punctuality, responsibility, and the qualities it took to be an adjunct professor in his department. Jacob has nearly cried as Lease went on and on and on. He would have continued even longer if his Uber hadn’t arrived to take him to the airport. The final insult to injury cane as Professor Lease passed Chad’s Jeep and said: ⁃ This is yours? ⁃ No. I borrowed it from a friend. ⁃ I didn’t think someone like you would drive something like this. Shape-up, Mr. Harrow. With that, he slammed the door to the Uber, and was whisked away. Jacob waved to the car as it quickly faded into the distance wishing he had the balls to give him the finger instead of this ridiculous display of false affection. Now as he opened the glass door to the building that housed his office/lab, he decided that he would take the lift up to the fourth floor instead of climbing each of the stairs. Nearly thinking about the climb in his current mood filled him with dread. It was while thinking these thoughts that he suddenly realized the foyer to his building was in complete darkness. Moving to the wall that held the light switch, he blindly felt his hand around until he found it. Click. Click. Nothing. There must be an outage somewhere, he thought, and gazing outside, realized it was only his and a couple of other buildings in the area that were bathed in complete darkness. Carefully taking each step that laid ahead of him, Jacob began the journey to the fourth floor. Chad must be sitting upstairs in the dark since he wasn’t outside to greet him, Jacob thought as he reached the second floor. Jacob smiles as he thought of his friend doing push-ups or sit-ups to keep himself busy as he waited in the dark. He wished he had his friends energy and drive when it came to fitness...but it wasn’t anything that ever really interested him. He never would have even joined the gym if it hadn’t been for the offer to have 300.00 pounds taken off of his private insurance with proof that he was living a healthy life. He would have quit a week after joining if it hadn’t been for being paired up with Chad for an offer of four free sessions with a personal trainer. Chad’s sexiness kept him returning for the four sessions, and just the thought of being able to hang out with someone like him had Jacob signing up for three sessions a week. Now that they were friends Chad told him he would train him for free, but Jacob refused. He knew that his friend needed the money, so He made up the excuse of not getting Chad in trouble with his Boss at the gym for continuing the payments. It wasn’t a lot, but Jacob was glad to be able to help his friend out. As he climbed the final flight of stairs that would take him to his office, Jacob saw flashes of light as well as what sounded like sexual moans coming from under his door. As he got closer, Jacob could hear his friend clearly as Chad let out a loud ⁃ FUCK!!! Jacob laughed quietly. Chad must have gotten bored waiting for him in the dark and decided to rub one out while watching porn on his phone, which would account for the flashing light. He thought he would wait outside until Chad finished up when he heard Chad calling out to him, moaning as he spoke: ⁃ Jacob! Fuck!! Come in! ⁃ I think you’re doing just fine on your own. You don’t need me. ⁃ Get in here!! Man!! I have a surprise for you! Fuck yeah!! Slight embarrassed thinking about what he was about to see, Jacob opened the door. What he actually saw far exceeded his imagination of what Chad has been up to. The laser was powered on, and the beam was first going through a magnifying glass that had somehow been rigged onto the apparatus, then through the stone which was rapidly changing every colour known to man. The beam continued through the stone, emerging as a multi coloured arrow of light hitting Chad squarely in the chest. Chad was shirtless, and the sweat that was pouring down his chest was highlighted in the every changing array of colours. ⁃ You made it just in time. ⁃ What the fuck are you doing, mate!! You’re crazy. Jacob ran over to the switch that powered the beam with every intention of turning it off. ⁃ Don’t!! As Jacobs hand reached for the switch, an arch of electronic energy erupted from the panel, shocking him into submission. ⁃ He won’t let you stop it. Not now. Chad’s moaning continued, and his breathing became more rapid. Jacob could see he was aroused from the obvious tenting of his shorts. ⁃ If you felt like I did, you’d never want this to stop either. I feel like I’m having thousands of orgasms all at the same time, and they keep getting more and more powerful... I can hardly stand it. ⁃ Who’s this ‘he’ that you mentioned? ⁃ I don’t know. He’s just a voice I can hear in my head. He told me how to wire up your laser and draw all of the power from the building. He said you were so close... you just needed a push. ⁃ You shouldn’t have tested it on yourself. We have no clue what it will do to you. ⁃ I still don’t. All I know is as each second passes, it’s filling me up more and more with power. Jacob leaned against the desk and watched his friend experiencing what seemed like pain and ecstasy at the same time. ⁃ I just wanted to help. I got the idea for the magnifying glass from what you said about it transforming the soldier into a magnified version of himself. Maybe the light just needed to be magnified. So, I rigged that magnifying glass there, set the rat on the table, and turned it on. Nothing. I then thought...maybe you didn’t need a rat...maybe you needed a guinnea pig. A human one. So I moved the rat and put myself there. At first Nothing happened, and then I heard a whisper in the back of my head, almost like a thought to take my shirt off...so I did. Once it was hitting my flesh, I could hear the whispering better. He told me you were being too careful...the rat would never work because it had no real cognizant thoughts. Then he said the power was too low. He had me turn it up and then step into the beam. The voice was getting louder...and he said that it still wasn’t strong enough, so he told me how to rewire the entire console, draining energy from this building and three more that surrounded it. He also had me put that failsafe around the switch because he knew if you came back you would be worried and shut it…Awww! Fuck…Jacob!!! Nearly there!!! I’m nearly entirely filled up. Jacob!!! I’m so filled with power I feel like I’m going to explode! I can’t even explain how this feels. ⁃ What’s going to happen next? What happens when you get entirely filled up. ⁃ I don’t know! All I know is… Chad stopped talked and appeared to be listening to someone speak. - You were wrong, Jacob. It’s not a riddle. It’s a test. - A test? What do you mean? - He wants to know what I really am. Deep down…what do I really believe I am? - You’re a human…like me… - He knows that! Deep down…what am I? - Chad…please…stop this now…while you can. - I can’t, Jacob. Not now…and I don’t think I want to. What am I deep down? We both know…don’t we? We both know what I am. Jacob realized Chad was no longer speaking to him, but to the voice only he could hear. - Exactly. I’m a sexual animal. That’s what I am. I’ve always known that. We both know that. Silence again for a few moments…and then Chad started speaking again. - What do I wish to become? What will I be? A sexual beast…a sexual conqueror… a sexual warrior? Jacob leaned forward as he saw Chad smile and then laugh. - Exactly. Why stop there. You’re right. That is exactly what I need to be. A God. A sexual God. Suddenly the room went silent. The beam from the laser shut off, and the only thing that eliminated the room was a glow from the stone…now completely clear. - It’s happening, Jacob. I can feel it. I’m changing! Oh, Fuck! My cock! Look at my cock! Jacob watched as the bulge in his shorts started to get bigger and bigger, looking as if someone was inflating a large balloon with air. Chad threw his head back and started moaning loudly again. - I can feel my whole body changing, Jake. What am I becoming? Jacob watched as Chad’s bulge proceeded to get bigger and bigger until he finally heard his underwear rip, and his cock flopped out the leg hole of his shorts. Fuck, Jacob thought, his cock is nearly down to his knee and it’s still growing. The shaft continued to grow longer and thicker, the head growing larger and meatier. - Fuck yeah, Jake! Fuckin take a look at me!!! Jacob couldn’t help looking at Chad as his penis continued to stretch and swell. Within a few minutes the massive shaft was nearing the floor. It was thicker than Chad’s own muscular arms, and just as veiny. The head was nearly as thick as two of Jacob’s fist together, and had a gaping hole he easily could have stuck several fingers into. - I’m getting so horny, Jake. I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny. Chad’s cock began to get thicker and longer as it got harder, defying gravity and rising up off of the floor. Soon there was a war between Chad’s penis and his shorts, and to no ones surprise, the penis won, first tearing the leg of his shorts, and then quickly destroying the rest of the material. Chad stood there naked, his eyes wild and filled with lust, his hands moving toward the shaft of his newly grown penis. Even with his long arms he couldn’t touch the head of it, and both hands were not enough to encircle the girth. Chad looked at Jacob and grinned. - Can’t wait to fuck with this thing!! - I’m not sure anyone will be able to take you with it. - Oh yeah? Take a look! As if Chad was willing it of his own accord, a river of pre began to flow from the hole at the end of his massive cock. It was like someone had turned a faucet on and walked away from the tap. Jacob looked at Chad, and watched him close his eyes. - Take another look. Jacob looked back down at Chad’s cock, and watched as pre suddenly began to flow from tiny pores all over his cock. Soon, the entire shaft was slick and dripping with pre. - Apparently I’m self lubricating now. Chad’s hearty laugh suddenly deepened three octaves as his hands cuped the testicles that sat in his sack. They were quickly enlarging to match his penis. Chad felt around his sack, cupping the two orange sized balls with a smirk that suddenly turned into a grimace of pain. Jacob looked down to where Chad’s hands had quickly gone to, and discovered there appeared to be a third testicle emerging. - What the fuck’s happening to me? Chad’s voice was so low now it was more like a grumble. Jacob could see a fourth testicle suddenly form in his ball sack, and begin to swell. Chad’s sack grew larger as the four testicles grew to the size of extremely large grapefruits. This sudden rush of god like testosterone hit Chad all at once, and hair began to sprout all over his body. Jet black hair began to take root around his lips and on his chin forming the manliest of beards. His bare chest was next as hair began to thickly coat his pecs. Like water flowing down a mountain, his abs, then crotch, and finally legs were covered in silky black hair. Chad’s hands felt his face and chest, marveling at the sudden carpet of hair that had grown there. Soon after, his muscular arms began to be covered as well, leading to his arm pit which grew a dense outcrop of hair. - What do you think, Jake? I always wanted to be a little hairier. The exploration of his new hairy body was cut short by a sudden jolt of pain. Jacob moved toward Chad, but his arm flew out and stopped him. - It’s okay, buddy. Don’t worry. I think I’m growing. Jacob watched on with concern as Chad’s body began to jerk and then convulse wildly. He feared Chad was having some sort of a seizure, but realized it was simply every muscle in his body pulsing with new found power. Jacob surveyed Chad’s chest where it seemed to be hitting with the most force. His already muscular pecs were pumping larger and larger as if it was ten years of solid chest workouts in one minute. - Look at these chesticles! I can barely see over them! Chad had barely uttered these words when his pecs flourished even larger blocking any view he would have of his lower body. Chad looked preposterous with these now 100 pound each pecs plastered to his body, but that appearance was to be short lived. Chad’s neck began to grow outward, thickening like a redwood. His shoulders erupted upward, becoming grander and more rounded. Jacob heard the cracking of bones and noticed both of Chad’s arms were lengthening as his biceps and triceps expanded and enlarged. Soon Chad’s hands scraped the floor, as his forearms thickened to the size of Jacob’s own thigh. Each finger lengthened and expanded, and the palm of his hand became as large as a manhole cover. Chad lifted his hands off of the ground and examined them. - I think I might have some trouble finding gloves to fit these mits! Chad flexed both of his long arms with a grin. His bi’s and tri’s erupted in size, becoming larger than Jacob’s head and still continued to swell. Chad dropped his arms, his huge hands slapping the floor. They didn’t rest on the floor for long as Chad’s lats began to expand like the rest of him. His back was growing wider and wider, and soon his arms didn’t rest against his side anymore, but were forced away from him. A rumble of laughter erupted from Chad. His cock had started leaking pre again, and his hands had begun to stroke the mighty shaft. Even with his massive hands, Chad still couldn’t complete grip his cock, and needed to use both to completely encircle it. One hand left his cock and moved to his pecs where he began to play with his nipples. Along with his chest, each nipple had grown and now were the length and thickness of Jacob’s own thumbs. His pecs had gotten so large that the nipples were forced downward, and the cleft between them could completely hide Jacobs foot. From his pecs, Chad’s hands went down to his abs which were beginning to grow along with the rest of them. Chad had an incredible 6 pack before, but now each abdominal muscle swelled to resemble thick body armor. The hair that had grown on his chest did nothing to hide the incredible wall of muscle that was emerging on his stomach. The sound of bones breaking and reassembling themselves began again, and Jacob watched as Chad’s legs began to grow longer. Where the man had once been at least 6 feet tall, his height skyrocketed to seven feet and then closer to eight. In moments, Chad’s head had hit the ceiling, bringing plaster down onto his body. Not to be left out, Chad’s feet ripped from his sneakers, and soon began to cover three of the 12 inch floor tiles, and then proceeded to eclipse a fourth. Chad screamed out in pain and reached for his ball sack. - Fuck!!! I’m growing another set again! The growth of the third set of testicles brought a further wave of testosterone through Chad, causing his body hair to become even denser, and swelling his quads and calves until his legs were thicker than redwood trees. Chad had to adjust his stance several times as his thighs grew more and more massive. A further cry of pain brought his hands back to his balls. - What now??!! To Jacob’s eyes, it appeared like the six large balls were moving around on their own inside Chad’s ball sack. - They’re merging! Jacob watched in awe as the six large testicles merged into two of the largest balls he had ever seen. They didn’t appear out of place on Chad’s massive body, but next to a mere human, they would be as large as ostrich eggs. Chad’s massive hands flew suddenly to his head as he cried out again. Slowly, Chad’s head and face were expanding, getting large to fit in proportion to his body. His mandible cracked as his jawline squared off, somewhat hidden by Chad’s new beard, but still obvious. - This is it pal! This is it!! Every part of Chad’s body grew even larger than it had been before, gaining hundred more pounds in muscle and size in minutes. With his bearlike paws, Chad grabbed his cock and began to frantically jerk it off. The second round of growth continued faster as Chad fell to his knees as to not go through the ceiling. Even on his knees, Chad was taller than Jacob. Pre was flying everywhere as Chad proceeded to masturbate with fervor. He’s going to explode, Jacob though, watching his friend getting far larger than anything he could imagine. Suddenly, Chad stopped all action. Jacob wondered what was next, and realized Chad’s focus was now on his cock. Longer and thicker it swelled, finger sized veins criss-crossing the length of it. The head swelled even larger still, and with the power of his giant testicles, Chad began to ejaculate. Cum erupted from Chad’s penis, hitting every object in the room, including Jacob. Shot after shot were fired, until it seemed there was no end in sight. Chad grabbed hold of his cock again with one hand trying to control where it was firing, but only succeeding in exciting himself more. Sweat ran down Chad’s face as an eroma of male musk emerged from his body. Jacob came in his trousers simply from seeing and smelling his friend. Chad lifted his arm and smelled his own armpit. Smiling at Jacob, he proceeded to squeeze his massive right nipple, and let out the lowest moan of ecstacy Jacob had ever heard. Seven more shots of cum erupted from Chad’s penis, and then there was silence; cum dripping quietly from the massive hole. - It’s done, Jake. - You’re massive. - How big do you think I am? - I don’t know. Probably close to 9 feet tall and thousands of pounds. Your damn head is as big as my chest… both heads… and even after cumming for nearly 10 minutes your cock is still hard. - I’m still horny. I don’t think I’ll ever not be horny again. Jacob laughed. - I can’t wait till the world gets a look at you. - What do you think of me? - You’re incredible. So far beyond human. - I ceased being human about twenty minutes ago. He gave me a choice for my shape…and for a moment I thought of becoming a two-hundred foot dragon. What do you think? Chad closed his eyes, and through only his will, two large amphibious wings ripped from his back. They were as wide and masculine as he was. Chad breathed, and fire erupted from his mouth. His eyes became those of a snake, and a moment later, fire erupted from the head of Chad’s penis, proving to Jacob that he was indeed more God than man. - You’re magnificent now, but I’m more at ease with how you were before… - I could destroy you with a mere thought if I wanted to…reduce you to dust with a single wish. Jacob knew every word Chad was saying was true. But, when Chad smiled down at him, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Chad’s wings folded into his back again, and his eyes reverted to their customary look. - He wants to know when you’ll join us. He wants you to take your place among the God’s. - He still talks to you? - No. He’s silent. He’s waiting for you. - I don’t know… this might all be too much for me. I don’t know what kind of God I’d be. - Deep down you know what you are… just like I knew what I am. Jacob did know what he was, but he was afraid to admit it. Afraid of what he would become. - But first… I need to thank you. Chad blew, and every stitch of Jacobs clothes disappeared. Chad grinned, and opened his mouth, revealing his tongue. As Jacob watched, his tongue lengthened and proceeded to move snakelike down his body until it wrapped itself around Jacob’s cock and balls. Before he knew it, Chad’s tongue was slowly jerking him off. The tip of his tongue licked his cock head, and teased the opening. Just when he thought he couldn’t take amymore, Chad effortlessly lifted him off of the floor until they were eye to eye. Chad grinned a wicked grin, and his tongue proceeded to lengthen again, making its way toward Jacob’s asshole. Within moments, he was being both jerked off and rimmed by the God that held him. Chad’s tongue entered Jacobs hold, sending shockwaves through him. What will I become…Jacob wondered as his friends huge tongue proceeded to enter him further and further, thickening as it went, and proceeded to start fucking him. What will I become? He knew it was far from human… even further than his friend had come, and that scared and excited him.

Hey guys, thanks for the awesome feedback on the first chapter. Here's the second, once again, it was written on my phone, so please excuse the errors. Enjoy! READ PART 1 HERE DWARFED BY DAD PART 2/4 When he grabbed the same weights as me, the same 80-pound dumbbells off the rack, I knew, just like the old man said over breakfast, that he was going to totally outgrow me. But it wasn't going to happen in a week, or even a few days, it was going to happen in a matter of hours. Almost as if he was literally growing bigger by the minute, the second, a growth experiment gone wrong, only it was my father, and there was seemingly no end to his new found muscle lust... “You know what?” Dad suddenly chuckled under his breath. “I think these weights are to LIGHT!” My jaw dropped to the floor, watching him move his way up the rack, right to the bodybuilding coveted 100-dumbbells. As he picked each one up, his sleeveless and huge chiseled grandpa-looking arms suddenly surged in size, definitely bigger than my own, looking like some real bodybuilder, not just an amateur, but some professional title baring bodybuilding hunk, a definition of physical perfection I could only dream of achieving. “OH-fuck, does that feel GOOD!” Dad groaned out loud, all while the whole gym stared, shocked, as he somehow began picking up the pace. He wasn't slowing down like he should have, gritting his teeth, grossly snarling, as the veins in his musclebound and hairy grandpa-looking arms suddenly exploded to grotesque size. Then his biceps, the fat steak sized meat packed triceps, began to rumble, quake beneath his already tight translucent skin, like some ready to erupt volcano. Soon his arms didn't just look twenty-inches, but twenty-one inches, then twenty-two inches. The already obscenely tight sleeveless shirt squeezed tighter, then out of nowhere, impossibly, his indecently painted on gym shorts ballooned even bigger, strained around his bloated old man thighs, his groin, even the back his disgustingly swampy and global muscle man butt. “AW-Yeah, look at this PUMP I'm getting!” Dad roared, continuing his relentless pumping, rep after rep. “I'm looking HUGE!” *RIIIPPP* *RRIIIPPPPPP* “D-Dad, y-your shirt…” I whimpered in concern, in total dumbfounded disbelief, but of course, the old man couldn't have cared less. He stared at himself in the gym mirrors proudly, arrogantly, looking like his ego had exploded ten-fold, the pride of a young testosterone dripping teenager, marveling over the display of hulking muscle bulging destruction, happening right underneath one of his heaving hairy daddy-pecs. There was a small snicker, as he just kept on lifting, unapologetically even, staring right back at me, swinging the two massive weights around like it was a warm up, not stopping until the other side of his shirt unequivocally matched. *RIIPPPPPP* *RIIIIPPPPPPPPP* “HAHA, OH-God damn, would you just check out this PUMP!” *THUD, THUD* Dad set the two weights down on the ground, standing fully up, looking horrendously bigger, a lot bigger! We used to be pretty much eye level, but now, somehow, we weren't even close! The top of his burly bearded face and piercing blue grey eyes soared a couple inches over my own. And then there was the all that muscle, all those rippling layers of bulging new bodybuilder power. He turned to me almost immediately, with a giant smirk on his face, flexing one of his colossal and nearly sixty-year old arms, an absolutely monstrous and musky twenty-three inch hairy arm muscle, this peaking sweaty mountain of bicep, right in my jaw dropped face. “J-JESUS, d-dad!” I whimpered in humility. “I can BARELY breathe!” “GOD-damn, BOY!” Dad chuckled mockingly. “Your old man's BICEP is as big as your whole FACE!” “P-PLease… D-Dad…” I found struggle in my own words, to even breathe, burning red in the face from humiliation, as my dad just continually publically tortured me, feeling as if this eclipsing mountainous muscle stuffed against my face, would be my inevitable doom. But my father luckily pulled away, moving onto the display of his own meaty male muscle cleavage, his own massive hairy pectorals, the cinematic destruction of his workout shirt. You'd think the embarrassing spectacle would have been over, but it wasn't, far from it actually. “HAHA, never thought that I would have TITS bigger than most woman…” Dad joked looked down, relishing on the insane rolling view of his blimping silver chest. With the now insane measurements of his own chest, he nearly effortlessly, not even having to muster up half his strength, that mind-blowing muscle cleavage, to explode through the rest of his upper shirt fabric, huge pec after pec, fat nipple after nipple, suddenly unleashed. *SNAP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “OH-fuck yeah!” Dad bellowed. “W-WHOA, BRO!” Some random college jock approached my father. “You're like the HULK with those giant pecs!” “The HULK, huh!?” Dad responded with a grunt, a gigantic smirk, looking down at the marveling and significantly younger gym jock, having another lightbulb, a deliciously devilish idea, go off in his twisted head. He suddenly turned his stance, the strain of his clothes loudly audible as he walked, cracking and popping all the fabric like branches in a storm. The college aged stud gulped, trembled a bit, with his mouth dangling open, his eyes bulging out of his own sockets, as he came into sweaty view of my father's mammoth and ready to explode backside. It didn't take much more than simple movement, flaring out his grotesquely muscle engorged veiny arms to the side of his godly stance, placing his hands on his waist, right before everyone heard the first dramatic tear. *RIIIPPP* My dad couldn't help but chuckle once more, snicker even, his voice sounding even deeper then before, manlier, powerful. With one sudden and swift flex, the back of his sweaty bulging gym shirt was detonated, exploding all the pieces of sweaty grandpa-pungent fabric, right onto the jocks whimpering awestruck face. *POP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPPPP* “H-HOLY-shit, bro!!!” The jock wailed in amazement, removing the destroyed fabric from off his dumbfounded face, the inside of his dangling mouth. “How's THAT for the HULK!?” Dad roared with arrogance, tilting his now bull-sized neck to the side, staring into the large gym floor mirrors reflection, seeing that tiny college jock stand behind him pathetically, like a little school girl, whimpering. Soon after, his two other jock-friends joined him shortly, absolutely losing themselves, as well, over the incredible live muscle devastation. One of the onlooking guys even had this pudgy boner, a pea-sized wet spot, tenting against his light gray gym shorts, totally fagging out. My dad couldn't have cared less, so power drunk off all the attention, he actually fed back into the three men’s queerness, rubbing one of his iron blistered hands right down the middle of his humongous muscular bodybuilding butthole. . “H-HEY man, I'm n-not GAY…” The main college stud whimpered, looking frantically around at his equally jaw-dropped friends, but of course, they all couldn't stop themselves from continuing to stare, drool for that matter. Dad, with an enormous grin plastered on his face, began slowly flexing his lower half, causing his totally titanic swampy old man muscle butt, those unbelievably pumped mammoth muscle thighs, to swell even bigger, just by just a single blink of his commanding power. The ready to blow gym shorts began splitting obscenely around the seams, first around his legs, then right down the center of his gigantic ballooning bodybuilder butthole. *RIIIPPPP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “O-OH M-MY God!” The three jocks wailed. “FUCK-yeah!” Dad roared. “Just check out the size of those GLUTES, BOYS!” The old man confidentially roared, right as his shorts fell to the ground, leaving him almost completely naked, just his pair of shoes and the most rank sweaty briefs you had ever laid eyes on, so much grandpa-looking pubic hair spilling out the front of his briefs it was grotesque. But my dad continued to flex anyway, enjoying the whole mind boggling spectacle from his own reflection, maneuvering his nearly naked gigantic muscle man butt, even closer to the three whimpering and comparatively puny college jocks, bending over like it was some muscle porn show. “OH-man, he's S-SO fucking H-HUGE!” Another jock wailed like a girl, just as my dad’s tattered white slightly shit-stained grandpa-briefs began squeezing up between the enormous canyon of his own swampy ass crack, helplessly gobbled up, inch by inch, as if his ass was actually eating, leaving nothing more than an inch or two to cover himself from behind, barely anything in the front! “HAHA, looks like ALL my CLOTHES are about to go!” Dad roared with laughter, leaving those gym jocks speechless, in there own puddle of drool, two of them now, boning humiliatingly, stammering to strap their throbbing cock-shafts into the waistband of their gym shorts. As I looked around, out of the bubble of my disbelief, there was a whole crowd of people with their smartphones out, taking pictures, taking videos. Eventually we were asked to leave by the manager, but once again, my dad couldn't have cared less. He strut his huge and nearly naked, grotesquely hairy, old man physique, right out into the parking lot, right out into broad public daylight. He didn't even care about the clothes he left in the locker room, knowing, laughably, that they would no longer fit. “UN-fucking-believable!” Dad roared, adjusting his entirely horse-sized manhood beneath the wheel. “Did you SEE their faces!?” He continued boasting to me in the car, on the drive back to his place. As if things couldn't get any worse, when we got to a red light, about five minutes later driving, dad, besides continually fixing his out of control aroused musky-old man cock, began playfully flexing his now mammoth and hairy musclebound thighs, thirty-four inches each from the looks of it, right against the underside of the steering wheel, wondering if it was going to “POP OFF”, he kept on repeatedly joking. “D-DAD, don't break the car!” I whined worryingly. “Why NOT, son?” Dad chucked, no doubt mustering up another joke. “It'll just turn into good scrap-metal for me to LIFT!” He roared with laughter, raising, more like hauling, his colossal silver muscle arm over my comparatively small little head, still being at a red light, he began twisting and squeezing his power striations against the thin metal roof of his old Honda Civic. I watched looking up, with my mouth once again hanging wide open, seeing the metal actually warp and make the most god-awful groaning sound. *CRRREAKKKKKK* Dad just kept it though, even after the light turned green, flexing his huge skull-sized peaking hairy bicep relentlessly against of the ceiling of the car, almost like he was trying to blow the whole roof off. He giggled after about a minute, like some innocent little boy, playing with his new toy, three or four cars honking behind us, as he no doubt fantasized about another muscle destructing scenario. “HAHA, guess I better invest in a convertible…” Dad joked, smirking right at me, winking. He looked so stuffed into that tiny car already, it would have actually made sense. To think, when we had left the house this morning, he looked like a mere average bodybuilder, an old one, but now he was this total stage- ready competition-crushing muscle hunk, insatiable for more size, a desire to grow endlessly. The next two days were our off days, Saturday and Sunday. The whole situation had me absolutely biting my nails, sick to my stomach even, especially about the growing part. Even when I watch the videos online that people posted, “Huge Grandpa Growing”, over and over again, I just didn't understand how he was doing it, how this whole thing was even possible. Luckily, dad, wasn't to savvy with computers. “Morning, DAD!” I showed up to his house Monday morning, for our usual pre-workout breakfast. Usually the old man would be already cooking in the kitchen, but this morning, there was only these loud beastly grunts, emanating from the bathroom down the hall, the running shower. I know it was wrong of me, it was so wrong of me to even think it, but with an enormous gulp, I began, feeling intoxicated by the prospect, making my way down the long dark hallway, seeing the light at the end, the open bathroom doorway, a view of his naked figure after a long weekend. He was without a doubt jacking-off, the old-pervert still had it in him. As I turned the corner, even I had to cover my mouth from the loud escaping gasp about to be released, but it was tragically too late. “Is that YOU, son?” Dad’s voice bellowed. He was huge, monstrous, godly, a voice so deep, it vibrated my ear drums. The shadowed outline of his physique, this totally door-wide gigantic muscular backside, even through all the steam, I could tell, his shoulder width must have easily stretched up to four feet wide. Sitting below, two watermelon-sized glutes slammed against the steamed glass, the silhouette of these two tree-trunk sized legs, with nowhere to go, bloated and stuffed so largely together with muscle, it was a wonder how he could even move, how he even got into the shower in the first place. I knew I had to say something... “Y-Yeah…” I stuttered nervously, shaking, creeping out from behind the corner. “S-Should I start making us b-breakfast, Dad?” “SO glad you're here, squirt.” Dad blatantly ignored my question. “I need help WASHING my backside. There’s just TOO much muscle for me to move, HAHA!” My eyes bulged as he laughed, right out of my sockets, wanting to cover my ears from his tremendously deep voice, the loud thumping of the shower with each small movement of his no doubt gigantic feet. I couldn't believe what he was asking, what I was still seeing. We had seen each other naked tons of times, even when I was growing up as a kid, but this was different, this felt GAY! “U-Uh…” I stuttered, looking down at my bulging cock. “OH-come on, son! Don't be a QUEER about this.” Dad bellowed demeaningly. “Your DAD needs help.” He made it sound so serious, but I could hear that undertone, that snicker. I undressed anyway, knowing what was about to happen, whimpering at my misfortune. There was no going back from this... ******************************************** READ PART 3 HERE Comments are appreciated !

Part One "Yeah, come on, coach, you've got this in the bag!" James was not the only one cheering at the small, but powerfully built men on stage in the over 60's class of his local bodybuilding contest, but he was certainly the loudest, and with good reason. His coach, Larry, was almost certain to win his fifth regional title in as many years and as he finished off his routine with a most muscular that defied his size, he smiled, bowed to the audience and strode off back stage where his student picked him up and grunted "You may only be ten stone, but this is how much I want to congratulate you!" As he placed Larry on the ground a few seconds later, Larry just smiled and said "Remember, this time last year you couldn't even pick me up, but I thank you. It's nice to get some positive feedback from a student" and with that they went off to prepare Larry for the presentation. Larry and James really couldn't have been more different if they tried. Larry was 69 years old, had been training since his 14th birthday and although only standing 5ft 2 tall and weighing 138lbs, his 38½ inch chest, 33½ inch waist, 13 inch biceps, 21 inch quads and 14½ inch calves looked hewn from granite. James, on the other hand, was not only ten inches taller, but worlds apart. He weighed 220lbs, but with a 46 inch chest, 45 in waist, 13 inch biceps, 23 inch quads and 14½ inch calves, it was obvious that he had a long way to go to match his coach, but that did not dampen his enthusiasm for his coach and what he lacked in muscle, he more than made up for in cleverness. Indeed, it was his idea to create a social media account for his coach's bodybuilding exploits, accounts which were regularly shared by the stars of bodybuilding although James made quite sure that everyone realised that Larry's muscle development was following the "PHS method" of training which Larry explained as the "Porthos, Hercules and Samson" method of training until he couldn't do anymore and without any drugs whatsoever. That evening as the two drove home, James nursing the trophy like a baby, he looked at it and said "Larry, did you really mean what you said last year when I joined your gym. That in the space of three years I could win one of these myself!" Larry chuckled "Of course I did, I mean look at your progress. Your bench, squat and deadlift have increased exponentially from nothing to 104lbs, 94lbs and 84lbs respectively, you can pick me up for at least thirty seconds when you couldn't managed it before, and might I note that you've become more confident as well" and with that smiled at him. "Yes" smiled James, "my naked posing sessions after we train" and with that added, "I can't help myself, I say. After I train I feel, well, like, like the biggest and strongest man in the world, I want to rip off my posing suit and flex, flex, flex" "Tell you what then" smiled Larry, "special treat this evening. Before I tuck into my post contest ice cream, we'll pose down together, naked, and you can show me what poses I should do for my next guest posing session next weekend, Deal?" "Deal!" nodded James, frantically.

Part One "Ah, Henri, just the person I was looking for!" As Henri bowed to his Captain, Treville bowed in reply and as he came up added "You have to be one of the most polite Musketeers it has been my honour to have in the corps" and when whispered in Henri's ear "Just lay off it in public otherwise people might twig that you are from England!" Henri smiled and he said that he would tone it down a little, knowing that the Captain was the only member of the corps who knew his true origin. "Now, down to business" continued the Captain, "I presume that you know the Duke of Buckingham is coming to visit next week as part of his, so called, diplomacy" Henri nodded and sighed to which the Captain replied "Yes, my feelings exactly. We both know what he is doing here. He wants to be alone with the Queen for as long as possible. There are times I wish he'd just leave her alone, but, well, you can't say no to love I guess, therefore I wanted to know if you could have a word with the Ultimates for me?" "All of them, sir?" asked Henri, "but sir, I really only know the Ultimate Musketeer" "True" replied the Captain, "but well, your skills at diplomacy are renowned, after all you are the person who delivered the King's Lights back to Phillip of Spain in perfect Spanish" "And what is the message that you would like me to relay to them, sir?" smiled Henri *** "Sorry?" asked Roger, later that evening as he and Porthos were gathered at Henri's digs, "the King wants the Ultimates to greet the Duke?" "That's right" replied Henri, "you see he's had some intelligence, and it's correct intelligence, that the Duke is bisexual at best and he thinks that if he were to see the Ultimates he might lose interest in the Queen and start paying more attention with them and therefore put the King's mind at ease!" "Well" chuckled Porthos, "I don't mind showing him what the Ultimate Titan can do!" "What is the Duke like?" asked Roger to which Henri replied, "Well, let's put it this way" and began a very detailed explanation highlighting the Duke's relationship with James I of England noting that "one letter from the Duke to the King said "whether you loved me now…better than at the time which I shall never forget at Farnham, where the bed's head could not be found between the master and his dog" so make of that what you will" but as he continued Roger started to lean in and said "And he's bisexual you think?" "I am certain of it!" replied Henri *** As the Duke of Buckingham entered the courtyard of the Louvre, he was greeted by the King and Queen in person and as tradition dictated he kneeled before the King, kissed his glove, stood up, kissed the Queen on the cheek and announced himself as "His Grace, George Villers, Duke of Buckingham" As they greeted each other, Roger, now in the guise of the Ultimate Cadet looked at the Duke and whispered "He looks nothing like a dog" which was met by a glare from Henri, as the Ultimate Musketeer, as the King brought the Duke to them. "Your Grace" said the King, "these three men are the strongest and most powerful member of my Musketeers" and with that he nodded to Henri who stepped forward, towering over the Duke by a good two feet, and announced "I am the Ultimate Musketeer, the most powerful member of the corps, this is the Ultimate Titan, the strongest man ever to live in the world" and with that Porthos, as his alter ego, stepped forward, "and this is the Ultimate Cadet, a man who desires to become what we both are!" As Roger stepped forward, the Duke's eyes opened wide and as he traced out the Ultimate Cadet's pecs, he moaned "Such a work of art" and as he was led away by the King towards the Palace, the Duke turned and blew a kiss to Roger prompting Henri to chuckle "Get your coat, Roger, I think you've pulled"

Der Campingausflug Kapitel 1: Fynn saß auf der hintersten Bank des Minibusses und folgte träge jeder noch so kleinen Kurve mit seinem Körper. Draußen sah er die von einzelnen Hügeln gesprenkelte Landschaft, die kargen Bäume, die allmählich an Laub verloren und dafür an Nadeln gewannen. Als sie von zuhause aus aufgebrochen waren, hatte er nicht geglaubt, dass die Fahrt so ermüdend und anstrengend werden würde. Mittlerweile schmerzte ihm der Hintern, war vermutlich seit der letzten Talüberfahrt eingeschlafen, seine Augen waren trocken von der kalten Luft, die die Klimaanlage ihm ins Gesicht blies und allmählich verspürte er einen unangenehmen Druck auf der Blase. Ich hätte doch gehen sollen, schmollte er innerlich, und schaute aus dem matten Wagenfenster. Vor gut einer halben Stunde hatten sie am Fichtenplatz Halt gemacht, um neben dem Tank auch ihre eigenen Kraftreserven aufzufüllen. Während Aaron und Caleb die Chance ergriffen hatten, um sich nochmal auf dem Klo zu erleichtern, hatte Fynn lediglich einige Runde an der frischen Luft gedreht. Er war zusammen mit Leif an den Autos und Lastern vorbeigeschlichen, hatte kurz einige mürrische Blicke mit einem echt mies gelaunten Fahrer ausgetauscht, um sich und seinem Freund anschließend einen Müsliriegel mit getrockneten Kirschen zu kaufen. Auf die Frage seines Vaters hin, ob er nicht auch nochmal auf die Toilette wolle hatte er bloß mit einem Schulterzucken geantwortet. „Ich bin schon groß und kann meine Blase gut unter Kontrolle halten“, hatte er gesagt. Groß mag ich sein. Groß und selten dämlich. Fynn wälzte sich in seinem Sitzplatz umher und verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. Der Wagen hüpfte über die losen Holzleisten einer alten Brücke, die einen sprudelnden Bach überquerte, und er stieß sich den Kopf, wobei er sich auf die eigene Zunge biss. „Verdammt nochmal“, fluchte er. Der Geschmack von Eisen lag ihm im Mund. „Ah ah ah“, ermahnte ihn sein Vater, den Blick stets auf die holprige Straße vor sich gerichtet. „Was habe ich dir übers Fluchen beigebracht, Mr. Hopps?“ Aaron und Caleb stimmten mit ein. „Genau“, kicherten sie. „Das gehört sich aber nicht für solch einen frommen Jungen.“ Die beiden selbsternannten Scherzkekse schauten über die Rückenlehne und warteten wohl darauf, dass er vor Scharm rot anlief. Die Genugtuung gebe ich ihnen ganz gewiss nicht. Stattdessen ging er in die Offensive. „Caleb, warum zeigst du meinem Vater nicht diese tolle Zeitschriftensammlung, die du mitgebracht hast. Du weißt schon, die mit den nackten…“ Eine Wasserflasche flog an seinem Kopf vorbei und traf den schnarchenden Leif genau auf die Nasen. Der Junge schrie auf, stieß sich den Kopf an der Rückenlehne seines Vordernachbars und merkte wohl, wie ihm Tränen ins Gesicht stiegen. Irritiert hielt er sich die Nase und suchte Antworten bei Fynn. „Alles gut“, flüsterte er. „War nur der Wurfversuch des schlechtesten Pitchers, den ich je gesehen habe.“ „Bitte?“ Caleb stieg die Röte ins Gesicht. Du hast mich schon verstanden. Seitdem letzten Monat hatte Caleb angefangen, in einem professionellen Baseballclub mitzuspielen. Zugegeben, er hatte sich als Batter beworben und war somit wesentlich effektiver im Umgang mit dem Schläger. Dennoch hielt er auch einiges von seinen Wurfkünsten, vor allem von seinem angedrehten Caleb-Spezial. „Du darfst es ihm nicht verübeln.“ Aaron legte Caleb die Hand auf die Schulter. „Die Flasche war schon echt beschissen geworfen. Du hast Leif mitten auf die Nase getroffen. Sieh, er blutet sogar.“ „Brauchst du ein Taschentuch?“ Fynn kramte bereits in dem Rucksack, den er provisorisch zwischen den Beinen fixiert hatte, aber Leif schüttelte den Kopf. „Alles gut“, entgegnete er durch zugekniffene Nase. „Ich lasse es einfach ausbluten.“ Er lächelte. Typisch. Verpass ihm nen Schlag auf die Nase und er bedankt sich eher bei dir, als dass er zurückschlägt. Der „gutmütige Leif“ wurde er in ihrer Klasse genannt. Leif der Friedliche, Pazifisten-Leif oder sogar Gandhi. Ihre Mitschüler hatten sich allerlei Namen für sie ausgedacht und einige hatten sie sogar davon übernommen: Caleb war der Sportkoster, weil es keinen Sport gab, den er noch nicht probiert hatte; Aaron nannten sie den Zahlenverschlinger wegen seiner mathematischen Begabung dafür in jeder Aufgabe eine Zahl zu vergessen und trotzdem zum richtigen Ergebnis zu kommen; Leif nannten sie den Gutmütigen und Fynn hatte den Titel Buffetzerstörer verliehen bekommen, weil er einst während des der Abschiedsfeier ihres ehemaligen Schulterleiters gestürzt und das halbe Buffet abgeräumt hatte. Gut, dass er die Schule nach diesem Vorfall verlassen hat. Inzwischen hatten sie die Grenzen des Waldes überschritten. Kiefern, die wie Speere zum Himmel aufragten, umsäumten die schmale Fahrbahn und schufen einen natürlichen Zaun. Sorgfältig verarbeiteter Pflaster wich erdigem und rauem Boden. Die verschlissene Federung des Wagens ließ sie jeden erdenklichen Stein und jede Vertiefung spüren. Fynn meinte, eine Herde Rehe im tiefen Dickicht gesehen zu haben und presste sein Gesicht daraufhin gegen die Fensterscheibe. Waren dort tatsächlich Rehe gewesen, hatte der Motor sie verscheucht. Ein Bach plätscherte zwischen einer alten Kiefer und einem erdigen Felsbrocken hindurch und verschwand hinter einem moosbewachsenen Hang. „Glaubst du, wir werden Hirsche sehen?“ Leif rückte auf, bis sich ihre Beine berührte und ihre Schultern streiften. „Wenn wir Glück haben, sehen wir sogar ne ganze Herde“, entgegnete Fynn. Er fühlte Noahs warmen Atem in seinem Nacken und näherte sich ihm heimlich, indem er die Hand auf das Bein legte. „Und wenn wir Pech haben?“ „Dann finden uns die Wölfe.“ Caleb stieß ein entsetzliches Jaulen aus und Aaron schloss sich dem Schauspiel an. „Zwei Idioten wie für einander geschaffen“, grinste Leif und entfernte sich wieder von Fynn. Im Zelt werde ich über ihn herfallen. Im Auto konnte er das nicht. Nicht, solange sein Vater mit seiner Frömmigkeit noch anwesend war. Ein guter Christ sollte seine Gelüste unter Kontrolle halten, mahnte er stets. Außerdem würde er seine Beziehung mit Leif niemals gutheißen. Ganz anders da seine Mutter. Sie hatte die beiden bereits durchschaut, da waren sie noch gemeinsam zur Realschule gegangen. Es waren diese Blicke, die sie sich gegenseitig zugeworfen hatten, während Fynns vierzehnten Geburtstag, hatte er später erfahren. Anfangs hatten Fynn und Leif noch Angst und Bange gehabt, doch schon bald stellte sich heraus, dass Fynns Mutter sie Voll und Ganz unterstützte. Fast jedes zweite Wochenende scheuchte sie seinen Vater durch irgendwelche Parks, Museen oder Einkaufscentren, sodass sie wenigstens ein paar Stunden alleine hatten. Und welche Stunden das waren. Sein Vater lenkte den Wagen tiefer in den Wald hinein. Sie passierte ein rustikales Schild, dessen Anstrich die Sonne bereits ausgeblichen hatte. Vor ihnen lag der Westliche Caniwald, ein tiefes Geflecht aus meterhohen Kiefern, deren Nadeln in der Mittagssonne golden glänzten; ein Ort voller verborgener Wasserbuchten und bergischen Aufstiegen, die sie dicht unter die Wolken führen würden sowie finsteren Minenschächte und rustikalen Berghütten. Zumindest wenn man all diesen Geschichten glauben durfte. Der Wagen hielt. „Was machst du?“, fragte Fynn und lehnte sich nach vorne. „Bis zur Lichtung ist es noch ein gutes Stück.“ „Dann werdet ihr den Rest laufen müssen.“ Sein Vater deutete auf einen umgestürzten Baumstamm. Wohl ein Opfer des Sturmes vergangener Woche. „Ein Glück, dass ihr junge und kräftige Beine habt.“ Er drehte den Schlüssel herum und erstickte somit den Motor. Draußen schlug Fynn zuerst die unbändige Hitze ins Gesicht. Trotz der Schatten, die die hohen Bäume auf den schmalen Waldweg warfen, hatte die Sonne die Luft gnadenlos aufgeheizt. Er griff an die Wagentür und verbrannte sich dabei fast die Finger. „Ver…“ Ein Fluch wäre beinahe über seinen Lippen gewandert, aber er konnte sich noch einmal zurückhalten. Nicht vor deinem Vater, maßregelte er sich und nutzte die Unterseite seines Shirts zum Schutz, um den Kofferraum zu öffnen. Darin fand er vier große Rucksäcke, jeder mindestens halb so groß wie sie selbst und auch halb so schwer. Jeder von ihnen bekam einen und dazu noch einen Schlafsack und eine Isomatte, die man provisorisch am Rucksack befestigt hatte. Caleb stemmte das Gepäck wie ein Weltmeister. Aaron hatte anfangs ein wenig Probleme und Fynn selbst wäre beim Anlegen fast nach hinten umgefallen. Nach einer Weile hatte er sich allerdings an das neue Gewicht gewöhnt. Der Sport letzten Winter machte sich endlich bemerkbar. Es war Leif um den er sich sorgte. Der fast achtzehnjährige Teenager hielt nicht viel vom Krafttraining und verbrachte seine Freizeit meist auf Spaziergängen oder gemütlichen Wanderungen. Die mangelnde Sportbegeisterung wurde ihm nun zum Verhängnis. „Alles gut“, versicherte er, das Gesicht rot angelaufen und die Knie zittrig wie Pudding, als Fynn ihm näherkam. „Nein, wirklich. Ich schaff das.“ Und in zehn Minuten darf ich dich dann vom Boden abkratzen, wenn dich der Rucksack unter seinem Gewicht begraben hat. „Habt ihr auch wirklich alles dabei?“ Sein Vater tupfte sich mit einem Tuch den Schweiß von der Stirn. „Wenn ich nicht dran gedacht habe, hat es Mum. Du kennst sie.“ Vermutlich trägt sie die Schuld für das schwere Reisegepäck. „Was ist mit den Zelten? „Ein Camping-Ausflug ohne Zelte wäre wohl witzlos, findest du nicht?“ „Die Konserven?“ „Im Notfall gehen wir Jagen oder Angeln. Denk dran. Vor dir steht Baltimores bester Pfadfinder.“ „Und das Kreuz?“ „Glaubst du wirklich, dass unser Ausflug von Dämonen heimgesucht wird?“ „Mr. Hopps!“ „Trage es stets bei mir.“ Fynn fischte ein silbernes Kreuz aus dem Kragen seines Shirts und zeigte es seinem Vater zur Beruhigung. „Gut. Sollte was sein…“ „…finden wir dich und Mutter in der Herberge keine Stunde von hier entfernt. Papa, wir sind keine Kinder mehr. Das wird schon.“ Fynn schloss seinen Vater ein letztes Mal in die Arme und überhörte die überaus erwachsenen Zurufe im Hintergrund. „Wenn ihr so viel Gefallen an einer väterlichen Umarmung findet, warum kommt ihr dann nicht hierher und bedankt euch auch mal bei meinem Vater? Immerhin hat er euch den ganzen Weg hierhergefahren!“ Seine Freunde hörte ihn nicht länger. Caleb war längst über den morschen Baumstamm geklettert und hatte die anderen drei weit hinter sich gelassen, während Aaron gerade drumherum schlich und Leif brav wartete. „Das ist okay“, entgegnete Fynns Vater und löste die Umarmung. „Mögen sie mir nicht danken, so wird der Herr diese gute Tat erkennen.“ Er faltete die Hände vor der Brust und schloss die Augen. Das Zeichen für Fynn, um sich davon zu machen. Es dauerte eine Weile, bis sie den Minibus hinter sich gelassen hatten und sein Vater aus ihrem Sichtfeld verschwunden war. Der Weg durch den Wald führte sie über einen schmalen Pfad, der lediglich für Wanderer ausgelegt war und die vergangenen Monate kaum genutzt wurde. Die Wurzeln sturer Bäumen schlugen bereits über den Gehweg hinaus und bildeten verborgen unter getrocknetem Laub gefährliche Stolperfallen. Es war als wäre der Wald einst vor den Menschen zurückgewichen und würde sich ganz leise und heimlich zurückholen, was damals ihm gehörte. Obwohl seine Freunde zielbewusst vorausliefen, Leif ihm allerdings stets dicht auf den Versen, war es Fynn, der sie anführte. Als er seinem Vater gesagt hatte, er sei der beste Pfadfinder gewesen, hatte er nicht gelogen. Nein, ein frommer Christ tat so was nicht. Tatsächlich hatte Fynn die Wahrheit gesagt. Schon damals hatte er den einen oder anderen Ausflug in diese Wälder unternommen und hatte vom Käferabzeichen bis zum Lagerfeuerabzeichen alles ausprobiert. Aus diesem Grund kannte er auch einen wunderbaren Campingplatz, ganz in der Nähe eines Flusses. Ein wenig abgelegener und gut versteckt hinter einer Wand aus dichtem Gestrüpp und garstigen Dornen kannte er sogar einen kleinen Tümpel, der sein glasklares Wasser direkt aus einer Quelle weiter oben in den Bergen bezog. „Hey, Pfadfinderass, wie weit ist denn noch, bis zur magischen Lichtung?“ Caleb lief ein wenig langsamer, damit sie aufschließen konnten. Der Sportkoster stemmte das Gewicht mit Bravour und hüpfte sogar über einen kleinen Graben, durch den ein winziges Rinnsal Wasser floss. Fynn deutete auf ein Buschwerk, in welcher der Pfad scheinbar verschwand. „Der Platz sollte glatt hinter dieser Wand aus Blättern sein.“ Seine Erinnerungen ließen ihn nicht im Stich. Auf der anderen Seite des Gebüschs entfaltete sich eine Landschaft wie er sie als Kind stets genossen hatte. Vor ihnen lag eine Lichtung, eben und flach. Die Sonne hatte das Gras weiträumig ausgetrocknet, doch dicht am Flussbett gewann es seine saftig grüne Farbe zurück und ließ sogar Blumen spießen. Inmitten der Lichtung entdeckte er einen großen Holzpfahl. Noch erkannte er die Farbe und den bunten Schriftzug darauf. Die Zeit hatte diesem Pfahl ordentlich zugesetzt, hatte ihn abstumpfen und bleich werden lassen, doch diese Platz markierte sein altes Pfadfindercamp. Verloren in alten Kindheitserinnerungen ließ er die Hand über das raue Holz wandern und fluchte, als er sich einen Splitter einfing. Dann traf sein Blick einen alten Dornenbusch und sofort wurde er von kindlicher Vorfreude übermannt. Der massive Rucksack glitt von seinem Rücken. „Komm, Leif“, rief er und drängte seinen Freund zur Eile. „Wohin?“, fragte Leif sichtlich irritiert. Dennoch gehorchte er und befreite sich von der schweren Last. Platsch. Der Rucksack landete im Dreck und wirbelte trockene Erde auf. „Was soll das bitte werden, wenn das fertig ist?“ Caleb schenkte den beiden einen kritischen Blick. „Sollten wir nicht zuerst die Zelte aufbauen?“ „Kümmert ihr euch darum“, drängte Fynn und zehrte Leif tiefer in das Dornengestrüpp. Er wusste genau, wo er hintreten musste, um sich nicht zu verletzen. „Das ist nicht fair!“, grummelte Aaron. „Wieso sollen wir die ganze Arbeit machen?“ Fynn musste sich eine Ausrede einfallen lassen. „Müsst ihr nicht“, entgegnete er kurzerhand. „Wir sammeln Feuerholz für ein Lagerfeuer!“ Zwanzig Schritte gerade aus, am morschen Baumstamm zehn Schritte rechts, der erdigen Wand bis zu einem Graben folgen und dann noch fünf Schritte vorwärts. „Vorsicht“, sprach er und hielt Leif einen Ast aus dem Gesicht. „Hier müssen wir kriechen. Ja, genau dort. Zwischen den Zweigen durch, aber zieh deinen Kopf ein.“ „Warum dieser spontane Ausflug?“, fragte Leif. Er kam dicht hinter ihm hervorgekrochen, hatte die Knie Wund vom ganzen Kriechen. „Damit ich dir das hier zeigen kann.“ Fynn führte seinen Freund an den Rand eines Tümpels. Das Sonnenlicht spiegelte sich auf der Oberfläche und verlieh dem Wasser einen goldenen Glanz. Über einen dicht bewachsenen Hang plätscherte ein Wasserfall, kaum vier Meter hoch und zwei Meter breit, herab und schlug winzige Wellen, die sich bis zum Ufer ausbreiteten und die Wassergräser zum Tanzen brachten. Eine goldene Königslibelle ließ sich auf dem Schilf nieder und schaukelte im warmen Sommerwind auf und ab. „Woher?“ Leif blieben die Worte im Halse stecken. Vermutlich war er den Tränen nahe. Der fährt voll auf sowas. „Hab ihn gefunden, als ich noch ein kleiner Junge war“, erklärte Fynn und stülpte das Shirt über den Kopf. „Bin vorm dicken Tom und seinen Diabetisjüngern davongelaufen und bin dabei zufällig auf diesen Ort gestoßen.“ Die kurze Hose und seine Sandalen folgten, sodass er bis auf seine Boxershorts nichts mehr trug. Leif errötete. „Was tust du da?“, fragte er und schaute an ihm herab. Gewiss gefiel ihm der Anblick. Warum auch nicht? Fynn hatte schließlich einiges für diesen Körper getan, hatte einen halben Herbst und einen ganzen Winter geschwitzt, eingeklemmt unter eisernen Gewichten und umgeben von übelriechenden Männern und Frauen. Über die Monate hatte er einen ansehnlichen Brustansatz entwickelt, straff und leicht nach außen gewölbt, wie es sich gehörte. Seine Schultern waren ein wenig breiter geworden, wenngleich sie mit seinen Armen eine große Schwachstelle seines Körpers ausmachten. Immerhin hingen an ihm nicht länger dürre Äste herab, sondern stattliche Arme, von der Größe eines Golfballs, wenn er sie anspannte. Wenigstens hatte er keine Probleme mit Rumpf und Beine. Während sein Rücken die Arme ein wenig zu beiden Seiten wegdrückte, hatte er unterhalb der Brust bereits die Ansätze eines soliden Sixpacks entwickelt. Zugeben war die unterste Reihe noch nicht sichtbar. Dennoch gefiel ihm der Anblick vor dem Spiegel und er wusste, dass auch Leif Gefallen daran gefunden hatte. Auf den Beinen wiederum hatten sich über die vergangenen Monate gut unterscheidbare Muskelsegmente gebildet und ausgerechnet seine kräftigen Waden waren sein ganzer Stolz. „Wonach sieht es denn aus?“, grinste er und streckte und rekelte sich vor seinem Freund. Sieh gut hin. Das alles habe ich für dich getan. „Ich drehe ein paar Runden im Wasser.“ „Du willst echt darin schwimmen?“ Leif schluckte. Der Junge war mit seinen 1.82m ein wenig größer als Fynn, was dieser allerdings auf den Jahresunterschied schob. Während er vergangenen Herbst seinen 16ten Geburtstag gefeiert hatte und fast 17 war, so war ihm Leif ein ganzes Jahr voraus. Als Leif ihm erklärte, dass sie bereits ein Alter erreicht hätten, bei dem sich nicht mehr viel tun würde in dieser Hinsicht, hatte ihn Fynn schmollend ignoriert. „Warum nicht?“, entgegnete Fynn. Vorsichtig tauchte er den Fuß ein und schreckte zurück. Eiskalt. Genau die richtige Temperatur. „Du bist verrückt“, bemerkte Leif. „Nicht verrückt. Nur am Schwitzen.“ Damit stieg Fynn in den Tümpel hinein, fühlte, wie das Wasser ihn allmählich umgab, bis es ihm bis zur Brust reichte. Die Kälte ließ ihn für einen Augenblick erstarren. Sein Herzschlag setzte aus und er vergaß für diesen flüchtigen Moment, dass über ihm die Sonne knallte. „Pass nur auf, dass du dir keinen Sonnenbrand holst.“ „Pass du lieber auf, dass du dir keinen Ständer holst.“ Damit hatte er Leif erwischt. Sofort stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht und bald schon leuchtete er wie ein Hummer im Wasserbad. Auch etwas, worin sein Freund ihm Überlegen war. Untenrum war er hart 15cm groß, Leif hingegen 16.5cm. Nicht, dass es ihn störte. Immerhin gab es keinen Wettbewerb zwischen den beiden. Aaron und Caleb hätten sicher einen daraus gemacht. Die beiden verbrachten noch unzählige Stunden am Tümpel. Zuerst zog Fynn seine Runden im Wasser, genoss die erfrischende Kälte, die davon ausging. Danach lagen sie gemeinsam in der Sonne, warteten, bis Fynn einigermaßen getrocknet war, damit er sich wieder einkleiden konnte. Bevor sie zurück zur Lichtung schlichen, füllte Fynn noch zwei Wasserflaschen, die er für die Nacht im Zelt aufbewahren wollte, und verstaute sie sicher in den tiefen Taschen seiner Hose. Als sie wieder zurückkehrten, wurden sie bereits sehnsüchtig von ihren anderen beiden Freunden erwartet. „Ihr lebt ja noch. Siehst du, Aaron, sie wurden nicht von einem Bären gefressen!“ Caleb entspannte auf einem ausgeklappten Campingstuhl und blätterte in einer Zeitschrift über die neuesten Sporttrends. „Haben ja lange genug gebraucht“, grummelte Aaron. Er schlug gerade den letzten Hering des Zeltes fest. In ihrer Abwesenheit hatten sie nicht nur die Steine für ein Lagerfeuer zusammengesucht, sondern auch die drei Zelte aufgebaut und fachgerecht fixiert. „Habt ihr wenigstens an das Feuerholz gedacht?“ Er warf ihnen einen kritischen Blick zu. Fynn und Leifen sahen einander an. Ups. „Das ist ja wohl die Höhe!“, beschwerte sich Aaron. „Lass gut sein“, lachte Caleb sichtlich amüsiert. „Das einzige Holz, das sie wohl in die Hand genommen haben, befindet sich zwischen ihren Beinen.“ Er zwinkerte ihnen zu und ließ sie somit zeitgleich erröten. Am Ende musste Fynn wieder losziehen. Alleine. Leif sollte dableiben und das Abendessen zusammen mit Caleb vorbereiten. Eine notwendige Sicherheitsmaßnahme, nannte er es. Als Fynn wieder zurückkehrte, war die Sonne hinter den Kieferwipfeln verschwunden und hatte den Weg für die Dämmerung freigemacht. Es dauerte ein wenig, bis das Feuer gut geschützt innerhalb der Steine knisterte, doch am Ende brannte es und neben einem Bohneneintopf gab es außerdem eine von Calebs neuen Spezialitäten. „Das Zeug habe ich früher vor jedem Workout verschlungen“, erklärte er ihnen stolz. „Es gibt deinem Körper nicht nur Energie, sondern pumpt dich dazu noch auf. Gibt kein besseres Gefühl!“ Die anderen wussten nicht ganz, was sie von dieser zähen Pampe halten sollten. Nur Fynn war mutig genug, eine Schüssel zu probieren. Er sah es als seine Pflicht, ein Zeichen der Wiedergutmachung, weil die beiden die Zelte ganz ohne ihre Hilfe aufgebaut hatten. Am Ende bereute er es allerdings. Dreißig Minuten saß er auf der Campingtoilette im Busch fest, bevor er endlich zu Leif ins Zelt stoßen konnte. Sein Freund hatte sich bereits umgezogen, hatte Oberteil und Hose abgelegt und lag auf dem Bauch, während er in einem spannenden Reiseführer blätterte. Leif mochte zwar größer als er gewesen sein, doch wirkte sein Körper dadurch auch schlanker und zierlicher. Dank fehlenden Körperfetts zeichneten sich überall drahtige Muskeln ab. Einige waren kräftiger wie seine Beine, was er den vielen Wanderungen zu verdanken hatte. Andere wiederum hätten ein wenig mehr Fülle vertragen können. Dazu gehörten Brust, Schultern und Arme. „Hast du den Toilettenausflug doch noch überlebt?“, fragte Leif und blätterte zur nächsten Seite. Fynn schwieg. Sein Blick lastete auf Leifs Rücken, unter dessen Haut sich die drahtigen Muskeln verformten, wenn Leif den Arm bewegte, um eine lästige Fliege loszuwerden. Der Hintern in der engen Shorts wirkte prall und wohl geformt. Wer soll da widerstehen? Heimlich ließ Fynn die Hose nach unten gleiten und befreite sich zudem von seinem Shirt, bis er lediglich in Unterwäsche dastand. Sein Glied erwachte bereits zum Leben und er wollte sich dem Verlangen nicht länger widersetzen. Gleich einem Tier fiel er über seinen Freund her, schnappte ihm das Buch aus der Hand und legte es behutsam zur Seite. „Das ist aber nicht freundlich“, entgegnete Leif, doch Fynn brachte ihn zum Schweigen, indem er seine Handgelenke umklammert und sein Gemächt über Leifs wohl geformten Hintern rieb. „Genau so wie ich ihn in Erinnerung hatte“, flüsterte Fynn. Er löste den Griff und ließ sich von Leif auf den Rücken wälzen. Verträumt schaute er seinem Freund in die tiefblauen Augen und strich ihm das pechschwarze Haar aus dem Gesicht. Von unten sah er die flache Brust und darunter die bleiche Haut, die sich über sechs gut sichtbare Muskelsegmente spannte. Wenn ich so wenig Fett am Körper hätte, würde ich viel muskulöser aussehen. Er schmunzelte und presste Leif dicht an seine Brust und fühlte, wie auch er allmählich steif wurde. Ihre Körper rieben aneinander. Verspielt zauste er ihm das Haar und schenkte ihm einen langen und innigen Kuss. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn und floss ihm an den Wangen herab, derweil er die Hände um Leifs Hüften lege und zärtlich über seinen Hintern streichelte. Fynn spürte, wie Leifs Finger heimlich an ihm herabstiegen, ihn von oben bis unten abtasteten und schließlich dicht an seiner Unterwäsche anhielten. Bevor Leif allerdings zugreifen konnte, wälzte ihn Fynn zur Seite, sodass nun er oben lag. „Nicht so vorschnell“, keuchte er. „Ach ja?“ Leif grinste schelmisch und umklammerte Fynns Schaft mit der linken Hand. Fynn stöhnte auf. Schweiß floss von seiner Stirn und tropfte von seiner Nasenspitze herab auf die Brust seines Freundes. Der Atem verließ seinen Mund heiß und flach. Er erwischte sich dabei, wie er stöhnte und um jeden Atemzug rang. „Worauf wartest du noch? Nimm mich!“, betonte er schlagartig und es klang nahezu wie ein Befehl. Zunächst schaute ihn Leif stillschweigend an. Eine Hand lag auf Fynns blondem Haar, die andere an seinem Schaft. Dann nickte er. Mit beiden Händen umfasste er den Bund der Boxershorts und entblößte Fynn vollkommen. Wenig später umfassten zwei Hände sein Glied und massierten es mit vollster Konzentration. „Scheiße“, keuchte Fynn und stieß ein zufriedenes Stöhnen aus. Das Herz in seiner Brust begann zu pulsieren, stärker und härter. Ein Paukenschlag, der ihn erweckte. Während überall auf seinem Körper der Schweiß perlte, fühlte er wie eine unglaubliche Hitze in ihm aufstieg. Verdammt. Am Anfang hielt er es für sein Verlangen, den unbändigen Sexualtrieb, den Leif in ihm ausgelöst hatte, aber schon bald wurde die Hitze unerträglich. „Ist alles gut?“ Leif legte seinem Freund die Hand auf die Stirn und erschrak. „Du glühst ja förmlich! Ist es das Essen? Eine Allergie?“ „Nein“, zischte Fynn kurzerhand. „Das ist keine allergische Reaktion. Das ist etwas… anderes.“ Er hielt einen Augenblick inne und horchte den Schlägen seines Herzens, lauschte dem Rauschen seines eigenen Blutes. Fuck. Ein weiterer Herzschlag brachte seinen Körper zum Beben. Etwas an ihm war anders, etwas, das er nie für möglich gehalten hätte. Es geschah zwischen seinen Beinen und lenkte seine und Leifs Aufmerksamkeit auf sich. Zwischen seinen Beinen hing sein Gemächt, vollkommen erhärtet, doch war es nicht länger seines. Nein. Es veränderte sich, pulsierte mit jedem Herzschlag und wuchs, bis es die Marke von 16 und schließlich von 17 Zentimetern übertraf. Kranker Scheiß. Ist das wirklich meiner? Ungläubig führte er die Hand nach unten und stöhnte. Unmöglich. „Hast du das gesehen?“, fragte er und suchte die Zustimmung bei Leif. „Du hast mich überholt“, entgegnete er, die Hände im eigenen Schritt ruhend. Plötzlich riss Fynn die Augen auf. „Fuck. Es passiert schon wieder.“ „Du meinst, er wird noch länger?“ „Nein“, entgegnete Fynn, die Stirn in Falten gelegt. „Diesmal meine ich etwas anderes.“ Die Hitze, die er zuvor in seinem Schritt wahrgenommen hatte, breitete sich nun über seinen gesamten Körper aus. Er fühlte, wie das Blut in seine Arme, seine Beine und seine Brust strömte und ließ ein tiefes und lüsternes Grollen über seine Lippen wandern. Während Leif weiterhin unter ihm lag, merkte er, wie seine Brust allmählich schwerer wurde. Gleich einem Ballon blähte sie sich vor seinen Augen auf, doch wurde sie nicht mit Luft, sondern mit harter Muskelmasse gefüllt. Beinahe zeitgleich regte sich etwas in seinen Armen. Er führte den rechten vor seine Augen, spannte an und staunte, als eine Erhebung von der Größe eines Tennisballs zurückblieb. Auch der Rest seines Körpers blieb von dem plötzlichen Wachstumsschub nicht verschont. Er kämpfte mit dem Gleichgewicht, während sein Rücken allmählich anschwoll, während seine Arme zu den Seiten hin weggedrückt und seine Schultern praller und härter wurden. Danach folgten seine Beine. Neben den ohnehin schon sichtbaren Muskelsegmenten gesellten sich weitere dazu, nur um von den Hauptgruppen verschlungen zu werden. Schließlich dauerte das Schauspiel keine fünf Minuten, doch in dieser kurzen Zeit hatte sich sein Körper erheblich verändert. Weiterhin ungläubig wandte Fynn den eigenen Arm vor den Augen, betrachtete Bizeps und Trizeps, spannte die Muskeln an und grinste gleich einem Jungen an Weihnachten als er erkannte, dass dies wirklich seine Muskeln waren. „Hatte wohl einen späten Wachstumsschub.“ Fynn richtete sich allmählich auf. Er taumelte von einem Bein auf das andere, bis er im Zelt kniete. Sein neuer Körper fühlte sich fremd, wenngleich nicht weniger aufregend an. „Du hast nen verdammtes Sixpack!“, staunte Leif und kniete sich ebenfalls hin. Nen Sixpack? Voller Aufregung schaute Fynn an sich herab. Verdammt. Das soll mich doch der Blitz beim Scheißen treffen. Genüsslich ließ er seine Finger über sechs perfekt getrennte Segmente wandern, spannte seinen Bauch an und fühlte, wie sich die Muskeln darunter bewegten. „Wenn ich es nicht besser wüsste, würde das für nen verdammten Traum halten.“ „Mir soll’s recht sein“, entgegnete Leif und trat näher an ihn ran. „Hauptsache dieser Traum findet kein Ende.“ Sein Freund tastete ihn gierig mit den Augen ab, betrachtete die volle Brust, die breiten Schultern, das Sixpack, das Gemächt, das zum Bachnabel aufragte und die pulsierenden Beine. „Caleb und du sollten im Flexen gegeneinander antreten und sehen, wer die größeren Muskeln hat.“ Fynn schmunzelte. Die Idee gefiel ihm. Dennoch wollte er zunächst etwas anderes machen. Wild wie ein Tier packte er Leif an den Schultern und presste ihn dicht an sich heran. „Wo waren wir stehen geblieben?“, flüstere er und schenkte ihm einen innigen Kuss. Zum ersten Mal merkte er, dass sie gleich groß waren. Mit diesem Wachstumsschub hatte er seinen Freund eingeholt. Fünf verdammte Zentimeter. Leif schien der Anblick ebenfalls zu gefallen. „Ich wüsste da etwas, das dir gefallen könnte.“ Zugleich glitt er an ihm herab. Seine Hände, warm und glitschig vom Schweiß, umklammerte sein Gemächt und ließen ihn aufstöhnen. Die eigenen Hände zausten liebevoll durch Leifs kurzes Haar, führten ihn näher an sich heran, tiefer in seinen Schritt, bis die Lippen des Jungens ihn vollkommen aufnahmen. Kapitel 2: Fynn kicherte. „Nicht“, murmelte er. „Nicht an den Füßen.“ Das Kitzeln ließ nicht nach. Anfänglich hielt er es für einen von Leifs Scherzen. Schläfrig öffnete er die Augen. Der Junge lag weiterhin neben ihm, hatte den Arm über seine Brust gelegt und schnarchte ausgiebig. Verunsichert lugte Fynn über die eigene Brust, schaute über die ungewohnt kräftigen Muskeln hinweg. Zwischen seinen Füßen raschelte etwas. Ein Büschel rotes Fell huschte an seinem dicken Zeh vorbei und hatte seinen Kopf im Rucksack vergraben. Danach folgte ein flauschiger Schweif. Fluffig wie ein Pinsel, wedelte er von der einen zur anderen Seite. Zwei spitz zulaufende Ohren zuckten, als Fynn sich aufzurichten versuchte. Der Eindringling befreite den Kopf aus dem Rucksack und hielt einen halb geöffneten Müsliriegel zwischen den Zähnen. Beinahe zeitgleich schrien die beiden auf. Der Fuchs stürzte nach vorne, verpasste Fynn einen deftigen Schlag ins Gesicht und flüchte durch das halb geöffnete Zelt. Fynn folgte ihm, das Herz rasend vor Schreck. „Es hat mich gebissen!“, rief er und der Wald erwachte dank seiner Stimme. Noch sah er das feurig rote Tier zwischen den Zelten umherhuschen, dann hatte es sich auch bereits in einem der anliegenden Büsche davongestohlen. Dem großen Tumult schloss sich eine neugierige Krähe an, die in den Resten ihres Lagerfeuers pickte, und den Kopf fragwürdig zur Seite drehte. Danach stocherte sie weiter in der erkalteten Asche herum. „Was hat dich gebissen? Etwa dein Freund?“ Aaron kam aus seinem Zelt hervor. Das dichte braune Haar stand in alle Richtungen ab. Über die Nacht hatte er in Unterwäsche und Unterhemd geschlafen. Die fehlenden Ärmel stellten seine gut gebräunten Arme gut zur Schau. Er war ein wenig kräftiger, wenngleich pummeliger als Leif. So befand er sich auf einer Skala in etwa zwischen seinem Freund und ihm selbst. Das war allerdings vor seinem unerwarteten Wachstumsschub gewesen. Jetzt trennten sie mehr als nur ein paar Muskeln voneinander. Fynn tastete vorsichtig über die blutigen Kratzspuren, die der Fuchs auf seiner Wange zurückgelassen hatte und stieß einen Fluch aus. Brennt fürchterlich. „Das solltest du behandeln lassen“, gähnte Aaron und rieb sich den Morgensand aus den Augen. „Das und… heilige Scheiße. Was ist denn mit dir passiert?!“ Plötzlich hatte Aaron die Augen weit aufgerissen. Seine Blicke tasteten Fynns Körper ab, wanderten über seine Brust, das Sixpack und schließlich weiter nach unten. „Also bei der letzten Dusche hattest du noch nicht so ein Monsterteil.“ Verunsichert schaute Fynn an sich herab. Fuck. Er war nackt wie an dem Tage seiner Geburt, war wohl so eingeschlafen als er und Leif endlich fertig geworden waren und hatte die Kleider im Zelt zurückgelassen. Sofort führte er die Hände schützend nach unten, um zu verbergen, was er zu verbergen vermochte. „Wie viel Zentimeter sind das?“, fragte Aaron neugierig. „17? 17,5?“ „Aaron!“ Fynn hielt das nicht länger aus. Die Röte schoss ihm ins Gesicht. „Nein ernsthaft!“, beharrte Aaron. „Wenn Leifs Mund solche Wunder wirken kann, dann, verzeih mir, aber dann soll er sich gerne auch mal an mir vergreifen. Ich hab euch letzte Nacht gehört und den Geräuschen nach, müsst ihr nen Riesenspaß gehabt haben.“ Das war zu viel für ihn. Mehr konnte er nicht ertragen. Zugleich kehrte ihm Fynn den Rücken zu. Ein Fehler. „Schau sich einer diesen verdammten Rücken an! Verdammt! Warte, bis Caleb davon erfährt!“ Caleb? Auf gar keinen Fall. „Nein!“, schnaubte Fynn kurzerhand und wandte sich um. Er machte einige Schritte auf Aaron zu, bis er direkt vor ihm stand. Seit gestern war er gut zwei Zentimeter größer als sein Gegenüber. „Caleb darf unter keinen Umständen davon erfahren. Nicht heute. Nicht morgen. Niemals.“ „Aber warum denn nicht?“ Aaron legte ihm die Hand auf die Schulter und Fynn fühlte, wie der Junge heimliche die Festigkeit seiner Muskeln überprüfte. „Stell es dir doch nur einmal vor! Ihr könntet euch gegenseitig befühlen, eure Muskeln vergleichen und ich könnte Bilder davon machen!“ Zum Beweis holte er eine Fotokamera hervor, ein Geschenk seines Vaters, dass er vor ihrem Ausflug bekommen hatte, machte einen Schritt nach hinten und drückte auf den Auslöser. Knips. Der Blitz blendete Fynn und ließ ihn für einen flüchtigen Augenblick vergessen, wo er war. „Ein gutes Fotomotiv bist du schon mal.“ Aaron grinste schelmisch. „Was ist denn das? Hast wohl Gefallen an meinem Vorschlag gefunden.“ „Was ist bloß falsch bei dir?“, protestierte Fynn. Zwar mochte er sich unbeeindruckt zeigen, sein Gemächt erweckte bei dem Gedanken daran, dass jemand seine Muskeln befühlen und mit Calebs kräftigen Körper vergleichen könne, zum Leben. „Ich habe genug davon.“ „Was denn?“, entgegnete Aaron. „Ich bin nicht splitterfasernackt aus meinem Zelt gekommen, um meinen Körper der Natur zu präsentieren.“ „Willst du etwa sagen, ich wäre schuld?“ „Wenn du dir schon nichts anziehst, könntest du mir wenigstens verraten, wie ihr das gemacht habt.“ Geduldig wartete Aaron auf eine Antwort. Warte meinetwegen, bis du umfällst. Von mir wirst du nichts erfahren. „Sei einfach still“, knurrte Fynn. Er wollte durch die Öffnung ins Zelt zurückkehren, als ihm Leif entgegenkam. Unter dem Arm hatte er Fynns Anziehsachen eingeklemmt, eine luftige und sommerliche Shorts, ein weites Shirt, das er normalerweise zum Sport anzog und beim Wandern durch die Wälder tragen wollte, und rabenschwarze Unterwäsche. „Was ist passiert?“, fragte er verschlafen und reichte ihm die Sachen. „Hab dich schreien gehört und als ich nachsehen wollte, warst du bereits draußen.“ „Nichts ist passiert“, grummelte Fynn. Beim Gedanken daran, dass er sich wegen einem niedlichen Fuchs beinahe vor Schreck eingenässt hätte, stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht. Da habe ich schon an Körpergröße dazugewonnen und führe mich immer noch auf wie ein kleines Kind, das nachts nicht alleine einschlafen kann. Er griff dankend nach seinen Klamotten und schlüpfte zunächst in die Unterwäsche. Leif hatte ausgerechnet ein Stück aus seiner enganliegenden Kollektion ausgewählt. Zum ersten Mal spürte er, dass er auch im Bereich des Hinterns ein wenig an Muskelmasse gewonnen hatte, denn die Unterwäsche zwickte bei jedem Schritt. Außerdem half sie nicht wirklich dabei, sein Gemächt zu verbergen. Die Konturen zeichneten sich deutlich ab. Sowohl Aaron als auch Leif schienen die Wahl der Unterwäsche allerdings zu befürworten. „Offensichtlich ist etwas passiert“, bemerkte Aaron und wandte sich an Leif. „Du hast irgendetwas gemacht, was den kleinen Fynn in einen größeren Fynn verwandelt hat.“ Spricht er von mir oder meinem Penis? Leif schenkte Fynn einen verunsicherten Blick. „Weiß er es etwa?“ „Leif, schau mich an. Jeder, der mich länger als ein Jahr kennt, wird den Unterschied merken. Vor allem, wenn ich nackt vor ihm stehe. Ein Glück, dass du die extra weiten Klamotten ausgewählt hast.“ Fynn zwängte sich in das Shirt und zog es über der Brust straff. Es saß ein wenig enger, seit dem letzten Mal, doch hing es weiterhin lose an den Schultern herab. Solange ich keinen weiteren Wachstumsschub habe, sollte sich zumindest Caleb davon täuschen lassen. Der war ohnehin noch nie der hellste. „So ihr beiden, Schluss mit den Lügen.“ Aaron verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. „Ich möchte die Wahrheit. Die ganze Wahrheit. Was ist gestern Nacht in diesem Zelt passiert? Warum sieht Fynn fast wie Aaron aus und vor allem, was hat es mit diesem Monsterteil zwischen seinen Beinen auf sich?“ Fynn seufzte. „Du lässt nicht locker, was?“ Er wagte einen Blick auf Calebs Zelt. „Was ist mit ihm?“ „Der?“ Aaron zuckte mit den Schultern. „Der ist seit gut zwanzig Minuten wach und rennt durch den Wald. Seine morgendliche Routine, falls du dich erinnerst. Wegen ihm musst du dir keine Sorgen machen.“ Gemütlich nahm er auf einem ausklappbaren Stuhl Platz und schlug das linke Bein über das andere Knie. „Also? Ich warte.“ „Wir sollten ihm die Wahrheit sagen“, sprach Leif und schaute ihm mit kugelrunden Augen entgegen. Welche Wahrheit, dachte Fynn. Wir wissen doch selber nichts. Und selbst wenn… was will er dann machen? Gerade Typen wie Aaron neigen zur Übertreibung in dieser Hinsicht. Fynn erinnerte sich daran, wie ein Junge Aaron einst gesagt hatte, vom Dreck fressen werde man schlau. Leichtgläubig wie Aaron damals war, hatte er beinahe einen ganzen Eimer voller Erde verschlungen, bevor ihm so übel geworden war, dass er gleich drei Tage im Bett verbracht hatte. Und trotzdem werde ich nicht drum herumkommen. Wieder seufzte Fynn. „Na schön. Aber viel wissen wir auch nicht.“ Also nahmen Fynn und Leif neben ihm Platz und erzählte ihm von ihrem gestrigen Tag. Sie berichteten vom Müsliriegel von der Tankstelle, von ihrem Spaziergang zum Tümpel, den Spielen in der Sonne und dem vergangenen Abendessen. Ein Wort schien dabei Aarons Verdacht zu wecken. „Du glaubst, es könnte an Calebs speziellem Proteinmahl liegen?“, überlegte Fynn und verschränkte die Arme hinter dem Kopf. „Möglich wäre es.“ „Ich halte es für unwahrscheinlich“, entgegnete Leif. „Denkt doch mal nach. Aaron futtert dieses Zeug bestimmt schon seit unzähligen Jahren und sieht trotzdem nicht wie ein Berg aus. Du aber hast bloß eine Schüssel gegessen und schätzungsweise fünf Kilo an Muskelmasse dazugewonnen.“ Deshalb bist du der schlaue von uns beiden. „Mein Freund hat Recht“, stimmte er zu. „Und was ist, wenn es nur einmal funktioniert? Was, wenn die Wirkung über die Zeit nachlässt? Keiner von uns weiß, wie Caleb vorher ausgesehen hat.“ Aaron hielt weiterhin an dem Gedanken fest. „Vielleicht war er einst so ein Dünnling wie Leif hier.“ Er schenkte ihm einen flüchtigen Blick, um sich zu entschuldigen. „Wir können erst sicher sein, wenn wir es ausprobiert haben.“ „Und was schlägst du vor?“ Caleb kam aus einem der Gebüsche gerannt. Das feurige Haar hatte er mit einem Stirnband fixiert und trotzdem hing es ihm dank des Schweißes träge ins Gesicht. In seinen eisigen Augen lag ein zufriedener Schimmer. „Was soll die ernste Stimmung?“, fragte er und streckte sich ein wenig. Das Muskelshirt spannte sich über seine Brust und gab die unterste Reihe seines Sixpacks frei. Die Arme waren aufgebläht. Offenbar hatte er neben dem Laufen noch einige andere Übungen absolviert. Sexy wie eh und je. In diesem Moment wurde sich Fynn abermals bewusst, wie viel trotz der vergangenen Nacht noch zwischen ihm und Caleb fehlte. Den werde ich nie aufholen. „Wo ist denn hier bitte eine ernste Stimmung.“ Aaron sprang auf und zwinkerte Fynn zu. „Wir haben uns gerade nur gefragt, ob noch etwas von deinem Spezialessen übrig ist.“ Calebs Augen leuchteten wie zwei Sterne. „Wer hat das gefragt?“ „Nun… Leif… jap, Leif hat das gefragt.“ „Hab ich nicht“, protestierte Leif. „Hat er doch“, entgegnete Aaron. Er schlich an Caleb vorbei und kniete sich hin, damit er direkt in Leifs Ohren flüstern konnte. „Hör zu. Du bist der schmächtigste von uns allen. Fynn hat bereits von dem Zeug gekostet. Ich mag zwar nicht wirklich Muskeln haben, bin aber immer noch kräftiger als du. Wenn wir sicher sein wollen, dass das Zeug wirkt, brauchen wir ein Versuchskaninchen.“ „Ich will aber…“ Caleb hielt ihm eine Schüssel voller zähem Schleim vor den Mund. Der Gestank brachte den Junge beinahe zum Übergeben. „Hätte ich gewusst, dass du auch was davon willst, hätte ich gleich nen ganzen Topf gemacht!“, grinste Caleb. „Der kleine Leif will endlich groß und stark werden. Wenn du willst, zeige ich dir nachher mal ein paar Übungen.“ „Ich glaube nicht…“ Leif bekam den ersten Löffel in den Mund geschoben. Es war Aaron, der ihn führte. „Der kleine Leif ist überwältig von deiner Großzügigkeit und würde gerne ein paar Übungen sehen, doch zunächst solltest du dich wohl waschen gehen.“ Aaron kniff die Nase zu. „Du riechst wie ein Affe.“ „Das ist Geruch der Männlichkeit“, prahlte Caleb. „Aber vermutlich hast du recht.“ Er stülpte das Muskelshirt über den Kopf und gab eine pralle Brust und ein perfektes Sixpack frei. Was ein Adonis Belt. Fynn erwischte sich dabei, wie er hart wurde. Breite Schultern, starkes Kreuz und kräftige Beine. Der perfekte Körperbau. Vielleicht hätte ein oder zwei Kilo mehr in der gestrigen Nacht nicht geschadet. „Wenn du willst, darfst du dich nachher anschließen.“ Caleb hatte bemerkt, dass Fynn ihn angestarrte und ließ seine Brustmuskeln zucken. „Wenn ich dich so ansehe, scheinst du allerdings nicht mehr allzu weit davon entfernt. Hast wohl doch ein wenig mehr trainiert, als ich in Erinnerung hatte.“ Er lächelte und verschwand in seinem Zelt. Sofort spuckte Leif den Brei wieder aus. „Das ist ja widerlich“, krächzte er. „Und dennoch wirst du alles davon essen müssen“, betonte Aaron kritisch. „Wirklich alles?“ Leif suchte Hilfe bei seinem Freund. Fynn verspürte unglaubliches Mitleid. Dennoch blieb er eisern. „Du wirst die Schüssel zum Wohle der Wissenschaft aufessen müssen“, lächelte er und zauste ihm das Haar. „Tu es für mich.“ Für einen kurzen Moment hielt Leif inne. Er starrte in die Schüssel als laure dort das größte Übel der Menschheit. Dann seufzte er und verzehrte widerstrebe den nächsten Löffel. „Ich werde Wasser brauchen, eine ganze Menge Wasser.“ „Dann sollst du meins haben.“ Fynn verschwand im Zelt und kam mit zwei Wasserflaschen zurück. „Frisches Wasser aus dem Quell der Natur.“ Er reichte seinem Freund die Flaschen und sah zu, wie dieser die erste in einem Zug leerte. Er lächelte unschuldig. „Vielleicht sollte ich noch ein paar Flaschen holen.“ Kapitel 3: Vier prall gefüllte Wasserflaschen später hatte Leif den letzten Löffel zäher Pampe hinuntergeschluckt. Das Gesicht des Jungen war kreidebleich angelaufen, die Augen hinter der Brille von solch einer Leere erfüllt, dass es Fynn fast Unbehagen bereitete. „Ich werde mich ein wenig hinlegen und ausruhen, wenn es euch recht ist“, hatte Leif ihnen mitgeteilt und war zittrig und schwach von seinem Stuhl aufgestanden und auf allen Vieren zurück ins Zelt gekrochen. „Ruf uns, wenn du irgendetwas spürst“, hatte Aaron lediglich entgegnet und Fynn hatte ihm dafür einen Schlag auf den Hinterkopf verpasst. „Du hättest ein wenig mehr Rücksicht zeigen können.“ Er hockte neben Aaron am Fluss, lauschte dem sanften Rauschen und den Schatten, die durch das Wasser huschten. „Immerhin hat er das Ganze nur deinetwegen getan.“ Aaron zeigte sich keiner Schuld bewusst. Er zupfte an der Angelschnur und gähnte verschlafen. Für heute hatte er einen entspannenden Angelausflug geplant, wollte tagsüber in der Sonne schmoren und am Abend ein paar leckere Fische braten. „Tu nicht so, als würde es dich nicht auch interessieren“, erklärte er und betrachtete aufmerksam sein Spiegelbild in der Wasseroberfläche. Eine Libelle schwirrte über das kühle Nass, ließ sich auf einem Grashalm nieder und wippte sachte im Wind. „Wenn Calebs Zeug tatsächlich der Grund für deinen spontanen Wachstumsschub ist, wirst auch du profitieren. Stell es dir einmal vor: Dein Freund mit Muskeln. Du hättest einen sanftmütigen Muskelriesen. Du kannst mir nicht erzählen, dass dich das kalt lässt.“ Tat es nicht. Allein der Gedanke daran, erweckte seine Männlichkeit. Nach allem hatte Fynn seinen Freund schon mehrfach dazu gedrängt, ein wenig Gewicht zuzulegen. Leider hatte Leif kein wirkliches Interesse an gusseisernen Gewichten und verschwitzten Trainingsgeräten. Aber ihn deswegen gleich so zu überrumpeln? Nachdenklich zeichnete Fynn einige Kreise im Dreck, nutzte dazu einen hauchdünnen Zweig, der entzweibrach. „Vielleicht habe ich vorhin ein wenig übertrieben.“ Aaron griff nach seinem Shirt und tupfte sich damit die schweißgetränkte Brust trocken. Bis auf die Unterhose hatte er all seine Kleider abgelegt, um möglichst viel von der Sonne abzukriegen. Anders als er und Leif, überzog Aarons Körper eine feine und dennoch deutlich sichtbare Fettschicht, die ihm weichere Konturen verlieh. Gewiss besaß der Junge auch einige Muskelansätze. Seine Arme zum Beispiel wirkten kräftig und solide. Wenn er sie anwinkelte, um die Angelschnur ein wenig einzuholen, zeichneten sich darauf weiche Schatten ab und hoben die Muskeln dadurch hervor. „Mein ganzes Leben lang versuche ich jetzt schon, Muskeln aufzubauen“, erklärte Aaron. „Hab’s mit Gewichten versucht, mit Elektroschocks, Maschinen, Calisthenics und sogar drei Monate lang mit Caleb trainiert. Nichts. Mein Arzt meint, es läge an einer Störung meines Hormonhaushalts, hat mir deshalb sogar schon Testosteron verschrieben. Hat aber auch nicht wirklich geholfen.“ Er lächelte und erschrak, als der Köder im Wasser verschwand. Sofort schnappte er nach der Angelroute und begann, heftig gegen die Strömung und den Fisch anzukämpfen. „Komm schon!“, schnaubte er. Für einen flüchtigen Augenblick zeigte sich der Fisch, indem er einen großen Sprung aus dem Wasser machte. Seine Schuppen glänzten wie ein Panzer aus reinem Gold. Als das Tier wieder eintauchte, spritzte es Wasser in alle Richtungen. „Verdammt nochmal“, krächzte Aaron. Schweiß perlte auf seinem ganzen Körper und verlieh den zitternden Muskeln darunter ein kräftigeres Aussehen. „Vielleicht solltest du…“ Fynn wollte eine Warnung aussprechen, als Aaron nach vorne kippte. Noch im selben Augenblick stürzte Fynn nach vorne, schloss die Arme um Aarons Rücken und umklammerte die Angelroute mit seinen kräftigen Händen. „Ist ein bisschen hartnäckiger“, schnaubte Aaron. „Du bist ein Idiot“, entgegnete Fynn unbeeindruckt. „Lass. Einfach. Los!“ Seine eigenen Muskeln blähten sich auf. Das Biest war zäh und kräftig, nutzte die Flussströmung zu seinem eigenen Vorteil. Kein gewöhnlicher Fisch besitzt solch brachiale Kräfte. „Lass ein wenig nach!“, forderte Aaron. „Jetzt wieder ziehen. Nicht nach rechts. Nach links! Ihm folgen und im richtigen Moment gegenwirken. Jetzt einholen. Vorsichtig. Nicht zu schnell!“ Abermals schoss der Fisch aus dem Wasser hervor und diesmal stürzte Aaron nach vorne, um ihn aus der Luft zu schnappen. Will der mich verarschen? Zwar hielt Aaron den Fisch letztlich tatsächlich in den Händen, doch wäre er deswegen auch fast in den Fluss gestürzt. Einzig und allein Fynn hatte er es zu verdanken, dass er nicht fortgespült wurde. Der Junge umklammerte Aarons Bauch und zog ihn mit einem Ruck zurück ans Ufer. Beide fielen nach hinten und landeten im Gras. Neben ihnen lag das Untier. Ein Fisch von der Größe eines halben Haies mit Schuppen so rein wie poliertes Gold. Zähne wie Messerspitzen ragten aus dem Maul hervor und wuchsen in alle Richtungen. Die Flossen zappelten wild umher, während es um Luft rang, aber letztlich gab es den Überlebenskampf auf und badete nunmehr im Sonnenlicht. „Knappe Sache“, lächelte Aaron. „Da hätte es mich doch glatt umgerissen.“ Weiterhin ruhte er auf Fynns Körper, hatte den eigenen Kopf auf dessen Brust aufgelegt und lauschte offenbar dem Herz, das darin vor Aufregung trommelte. Eine Hand hatte sich offenbar unter sein Shirt verloren, denn die feuchten Finger tasteten neugierig über seine Bauchmuskulatur und wanderten an ihm herauf. „Was wird das?“ Fynn warf ihm einen kritischen Blick zu und fühlte plötzlich, wie Aaron in seine Brustwarze kniff. „Bist du verrückt geworden?“, keuchte Fynn. „Es fühlt sich sogar noch besser an als es aussieht.“ Sabber floss an Aarons Lippen herab. „So kräftig und so hart. Wie ein Fels.“ Beide seiner Hände hatten sich inzwischen unter Fynns Shirt gestohlen und krempelten es ein wenig zurück, um die erste Reihe harter Bauchmuskeln zu offenbaren. Die Spitze seines Gemächts lugte allmählich unter dem Hosenbund hervor und wuchs in die Länge, während er erhärtete. „Nicht“, keuchte Fynn. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn. Sein Herz schlug schneller und schneller. Was tut dieser Idiot da? Aarons Augen fanden sein Glied. „Ich sollte nicht“, sprach er beinahe hypnotisiert. „Sollte es nicht anfassen.“ Seine Finger strichen zärtlich über die Unterwäsche und zogen die Konturen nach. Fynn stöhnte. „Und trotzdem möchte ich es in die Finger nehmen. Ich möchte die Männlichkeit darin pulsieren spüren.“ Seine Finger griffen zu und Fynn erwachte. Mit einem Mal stieß er Aaron zur Seite. Der Junge plumpste auf den Rasen und landete geradewegs neben seinem Fisch. „Verzeih“, sprach er und schaute ihm dabei nicht in die Augen. „Ich weiß auch nicht, was in mich gefahren ist. Es ist nur… dieser Körper… seitdem du diesen Wachstumsschub hattest, wirkst du plötzlich so unwiderstehlich.“ Aaron starrte absichtlich zwischen die Füße. Er schämt sich, erkannte Fynn kurzerhand. Er schämt sich wegen seinem Verhalten, wegen seinem Aussehen, wegen dem zwischen seinen Beinen. Fynn kam nicht drumherum, Aarons mächtigen Ständer zu bemerken. Vollkommen erregt stand er ihm in nichts nach, nicht einmal nachdem er in der gestrigen Nacht gewachsen war. Zwar mochte es Aaron an Muskeln fehlen, trotzdem führte er dort ein stolzes Biest zwischen den Beinen. „Würdest du mir…“ Aaron hielt einen Augenblick inne. „Würdest du mir trotzdem mit dem Fisch helfen? Ich kann ihn nicht alleine kochen, würde euch aber gerne einen Gefallen tun.“ „Den willst du kochen?“ Fynn schaute das Ungetüm an und schüttelte den Kopf. Aaron aber war voller Begeisterung. „Natürlich!“, entgegnete er kurzangebunden. „Noch nie etwas von Aarons speziellem Fischeintopf gehört?“ Fynn schwieg. „Na dann wird es aber höchste Zeit. Komm, ich zeige dir, wie man einen Fisch filetiert.“ Der Junge stand wieder aufrecht und vergaß dabei, das Ungetüm zwischen seinen Beinen. „K-könntest du dir vorher etwas überziehen?“ Wenngleich Fynn bereits einiges gesehen hatte, trieb ihn der Anblick von Aarons Gemächt, wie es direkt vor seinem Gesicht pulsierte, die Röte ins Gesicht. „Warum kümmerst du dich nicht darum, während ich deine Brust massieren?“ Aaron grinste schelmisch, brach daraufhin aber umgehend in lautes Gelächter aus. „Mache nur Spaß. Warte kurz.“ Natürlich macht er Spaß, dachte Fynn und schaute Aaron hinterher. Das macht er immer. Warum erregt es mich dann so sehr? Den Rest des Tages verbrachten Fynn und Aaron damit, den Fischeintopf vorzubereiten. Sie entfernten gemeinsam die Schuppen, schnitten das kostbare Fleisch in feine Stücke, nachdem Aaron ihm gezeigt hatte, wie man die Gräten mit einer feinen Pinzette herauszog. Den Fisch würzte er lediglich mit ein wenig Salz und Pfeffer, schnitt dazu ein paar Pilze und Kartoffeln und ließ das ganze dann eine Stunde über dem Feuer kochen. Danach riefen sie alle zusammen. Leif blieb allerdings im Zelt und vertröstete sie lediglich. Wenn es ihm besserginge, würde er sich eine Schüssel nehmen. Selbst Caleb blieb nur kurz und aß viel lieber etwas von seiner zähen Pampe. „Einen Fisch rühre ich nicht an“, sagte er und schüttelte angewidert den Kopf. „Schmecken bestimmt genauso wie sie riechen. Widerlich.“ Hast du mal an deiner eigenen Pampe gerochen? Während Fynn selber nur einen kleinen Bissen riskierte und schnell merkte, dass ihm Monstermakrele nicht schmeckte, verschlang Aaron den halben Eintopf. „Nichts schmeckt besser als die Frucht eigener, harter Arbeit.“ Er lachte und klopfte sich auf den prall gefüllten Bauch. Danach lauschten sie noch ein wenig den spannenden Geschichten, die Caleb ihnen zu erzählen hatte. Angeblich war er auf seinen sportlichen Wanderungen durch den Wald an einer baufälligen Hängebrücke vorbeigekommen. „Die meisten Holzstreben waren herausgebrochen, sonst wäre ich ja drüber gestiegen“, erzählte er enttäuscht. „Auf der anderen Seite hab ich ne hübsche Hütte gesehen. Was meint ihr? Ob es noch einen anderen Weg über den Fluss gibt?“ „Warum sollte dich das überhaupt interessieren?“ Aaron schleckte die letzten Fischreste aus seiner Schüssel, bevor er sie in einem Wasserbad versenkte. „Warum nicht?“, entgegnete Caleb. „Wenn das Abenteuer ruft, muss ein echter Mann folgen. Du stimmst mir doch zu, oder Fynn?“ Fynn schwieg. „Fynn?“ „Hm?“ Er hob den Kopf. Hat er mich was gefragt? Die ganze Zeit musste er an Leif und diesen übelriechenden Proteinbrei denken. Nicht, dass er sich ne Lebensmittelvergiftung eingefangen hat. „Wisst ihr“, sprach er schließlich und stand auf. „Ich werde mich bereits zurückziehen. Leif scheint es nicht gut zu gehen und ich würde ihm gerne noch ein bisschen Gesellschaft leisten.“ „Der wird schon wieder“, bemerkte Caleb. „Nach seinem ersten Bissen, lag mein Bruder auch erstmal für nen paar Tage flach.“ Ein paar Tage? Was zum Teufel hast du uns vorgesetzt? Fynn musste sich unbedingt nochmal bei seinem Freund entschuldigen. Hätte er gewusst, dass Caleb sie zu vergiften versuchte, er hätte ihn niemals dazu gedrängt, auch nur einen Löffel in den Mund zu nehmen. Hastig öffnete er den Reisverschluss des Zeltes und schritt herein. Im Inneren war die Luft muffig und stank nach Schweiß. Ein einsames Lämpchen brannte in der hinteren Ecke und schien auf Leifs Gesicht. Der Junge war kreidebleich und hatte sich vollkommen in den Schlafsack zurückgezogen. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn und verlief zwischen den einzelnen Falten. „Wie geht es dir?“, fragte Fynn und zog das Zelt hinter sich zu. „Echt beschissen“, keuchte Leif. „Mein Körper fühlt sich an, als würde er jeden Augenblick in Flammen aufgehen und ich weiß nicht, aber… ich glaube, wir sollten deinen Vater anrufen.“ „Wieso denn das?“ Fynn ging neben seinem Freund nieder und strich ihm das feuchte Haar aus dem Gesicht. „Soll ich dir Wasser bringen? Vielleicht hilft eine Abkühlung?“ „Das meine ich nicht“, entgegnete Leif. Röte stieg ihm ins Gesicht. „Was denn dann?“ „Warte. Ich zeig’s dir.“ Daraufhin richtete Leif allmählich den Oberkörper auf. Die Decke glitt ihm von den Schultern und gab die weiterhin schmale Statur seines Freundes preis: Eine drahtige Brust, knochige Schultern und dünne Arme. Also hat es nicht gewirkt. Das alles umsonst. Fynn ärgerte sich über seine eigene Naivität, doch vielmehr ärgerte er sich, dass er seinen Freund zu solch einer Dummheit gezwungen hatte. Er wollte es nicht. Und trotzdem haben wir ihn dazu gedrängt. „Bitte erschrick nicht“, sprach sein Freund und zog die Decke von seinen Beinen. Fynn weitete die Augen. Zum Vorschein kam Leifs Gemächt, ein pulsierendes Biest, dass steif gegen seinen Bauch schlug und knapp unter der Brust stoppte. Es maß eine halbe Armlänge und war auch beinahe so breit wie einer. Mit jedem Herzschlag schien es zum Leben zu erwachen. Das verstehe ich nicht. Fynn beugte sich nach vorne und betrachtete die glühende Spitze. Wieso ist seiner fast 40 cm lang? Was hat er gemacht? „Du solltest ihm besser nicht zu nahekommen.“ Leif lächelte verlegen, ein Lächeln, das bald verschwunden war. Stattdessen stieß er ein Stöhnen aus und blies heiße Luft durch seine Nasenlöcher. „Scheiße“, hauchte er. Seine Hände umklammerten sein Gemächt, umfassten den Schaft und ließen die Adern darauf anschwellen. „Es fängt schon wieder an…“ Fynn traute seinen Augen nicht, als der Schaft seines Freundes einen weiteren Zentimeter an Länge gewann. Etwas tief in seinem Inneren wollte zugreifen und den Wachstumsschub am eigenen Leib erfahren. Er selbst war binnen weniger Sekunden hart geworden und zupfte an dem Stoff seiner Shorts. Scheiße man. Was tue ich hier? Mein eigener Freund hat ein Monsterteil, das selbst einen Stier vor Neid erblassen lassen würde und ich fasste mir zwischen den eigenen Schritt? Bin ich verrückt geworden? Seine Finger berührten den Kopf von Leifs Gemächt. „Nicht“, hauchte der Junge und stöhnte auf. Es glüht förmlich und trotzdem… seine Hände umschlossen den Schaft und spürten das Blut darin kochen. So… groß. Leif legte derweil den Kopf in den Nacken. „Ich habe nie darum gebeten.“ Tränen flossen an seinen Augen herab und vermengten sich mit dem Schweiß, der ihm auf die Brust tropfte. Überall auf seinem Körper glitzerte der Schweiß. Die drahtigen Muskeln darunter kamen zum Vorschein. Die Haut spannte sich straff darüber und hatte eine feurige Farbe angenommen. Ich habe ihn noch nie so angespannt gesehen. Gefällt es ihm oder hat er Schmerzen? Plötzlich erkannte Fynn, dass Leif vor einem weiteren Wachstumsschub stand. Diesmal allerdings betraf es nicht sein Glied, sondern den Rest seines Körpers. „Ich will das nicht“, schluchzte Leif. „Psssh.“ Fynn versuchte ihn zu beruhigen. „Wehre dich nicht dagegen.“ Er selbst stülpte das Shirt über den Kopf und präsentierte Leif seinen neuen Körper. Zärtlich strich er über dessen Arm, fühlte die Schweißperlen darauf kondensieren und das Blut darunter kochen. Dann, ganz sachte und langsam, führte er Leifs Hand auf seine Brust, ließ die zittrigen Finger über die Muskeln wandern und zudrücken. „Sag mir, fühlt sich das nicht gut an?“ Er schaute seinem Freund tief in die blauen Augen und führte die Hand weiter nach unten, wo sie die oberste Reihe seines Sixpacks traf. Leif schniefte. „Schon… aber…“ Ein tiefes Grollen kam aus dem Inneren seines Körpers und ließ diesen erzittern. Mittlerweile wirkte Leif wie nach einem anstrengenden Workout. All seine Muskeln hatten sich vollgesogen mit Blut und wirkten kräftiger und praller denn je. „Kein aber“, flüstere Fynn und gab seinem Freund einen Kuss auf die Stirn. Er wird sich daran gewöhnen. Ganz bestimmt. „Komm.“ Er öffnete die Arme und empfing seinen Freunden mit einer ausgiebigen Umarmung. „Du brauchst keine Angst zu haben. Ich bleibe bei dir.“ Leif antworte nicht. Stattdessen warf er den Kopf nach hinten. Zuerst geschah es in Leifs Brust. Wie auch einst bei Fynn blähte sie sich allmählich auf, füllte sich mit steinharter Muskelmasse, bis sie die Größe zweier Handballhälften erreicht hatte. Dennoch war ein Ende nicht in Sicht. So kräftig und prall. Als nächstes folgten Arme und Schultern. Dünn umklammerten sie seinen Körper, doch allmählich schwollen sie an, wurden kräftiger und kräftiger. Mit jedem Herzschlag tauchten neue Muskeln auf. Fynn fühlte, wie zwei kräftige Trizepse ihn allmählich zerdrückten und ihm den Atem raubten. Dennoch hielt er an seinem Freund fest. Schließlich hatte er es ihm versprochen. Leifs Schultern waren das einzige, was diese mächtigen Arme übertreffen konnte. Erst schwollen sie auf die Größe zweier Handbälle, doch schon bald hatten sie die Formfestigkeit von gusseisernen Kanonenkugeln erreicht. Beinahe gedankenverloren ließ Fynn seine Hände über die Schultern wandern und erfühlte drei perfekt separierte Muskelsegmente. Plötzlich stieß Leif ein tiefes Knurren aus. Allmählich schien er sich an den Gedanken, einen Körper voller Muskeln zu haben, zu gewöhnen. Mit weit aufgerissenen Augen verfolge Fynn das Spektakel und erkannte voller Schreck, dass sein Freund allmählich an Größe dazu gewann. Während kräftige Latissimi die weiterhin anschwellenden Arme zu beiden Seiten wegdrückten und ihm ein monströses Erscheinen verliehen, wuchs Leif über ihn hinweg. Spätestens als er ihm direkt auf die prall gefüllten Brustmuskeln starren konnte, auf die einzelnen Muskelfasern, die darin zum Leben erwachten und das Fleisch unter der Haut zum Tanzen brachten, wusste er, dass sie übertrieben hatten. Aber warum? Warum schlägt Calebs Zeug so gut an? „Siehst du das, Fynn?“, staunte Leif. „Es hört nicht mehr auf. Ich werde immer größer. Und ich muss zugeben…“ Seine Beine explodierten mit schierer Muskelmasse und hüllten die Knochen darunter vollkommen ein. „Es fühlt sich so verdamm gut an. Mein ganzer Körper… meine Arme wirken wie Baumstämme.“ Er löste die Umarmung und präsentierte die wundervollsten Arme, die Fynn jemals zu Gesicht bekommen hatte. Adern pulsierten darauf. Zwei perfekt geformte Handbälle. „Mein Bauch… scheiße…“ Leif stöhnte als sein Gemächt zwischen seinen Brustmuskeln eingeklemmt wurde. Hinter dem Schaft verborgen lagen sechs wohl geformte Bauchmuskeln. Wie eine Hügellandschaft durchzogen von tiefen Klüften zeichneten sie sich unter der Haut ab und schimmerten dank des Schweißes. „Bitte“, flehte Leif. „Mach, dass es nie wieder aufhört.“ Sein Kopf traf auf die Zeltdecke. Wieder wurden seine Muskeln mit Zement gefüllt „Nein, Leif, entgegnete Fynn. „Du hast genug.“ „Genug?“ Leif richtete sich allmählich auf und nutzte seine neuen kräftigen Arme um durch den Stoff des Zeltes zu brechen. Im Sitzen reichte ihm Fynn gerade einmal bis zu den Knien. Einst hatte er seinen Freund um wenige Zentimeter überragt. Nun lastete Leifs schwerer Schatten auf seinen Schultern. „Gefällt dir mein neues Aussehen nicht?“ Leif präsentierte all seinen Muskeln, indem er einen Most-Muscular vollzog. Fuck. Der Anblick alleine reichte aus, dass Fynn kam. Sein Gemächt explodierte mit Lust. Ein Schuss nach dem anderen füllte seine Unterwäsche und ließ ihn verlegen zurück. Scheiße. Warum turnt mich der Anblick so an. Erschöpft richtete er sich auf. Selbst, wenn er stand, reichte er seinem Freund bloß bis zur unteren Brustmuskulatur. „Du bist ein Monstrum.“ Leif blickte an sich herab. Immerhin ließ der Wachstumsschub endlich nach. Verlegen befühlte er seine neuen Armmuskeln und kicherte unschuldig. „Vielleicht hast du Recht. Vielleicht habe ich ein wenig übertrieben.“ „Ein wenig ist gut.“ Aaron kam aus seinem Zelt hervorgekrochen. „Verdammte scheiße. Leif man. Du bist ein Monster! Nicht, dass ich über dich richten dürfte.“ Fynn verstand nicht und wandte sich deshalb um. „Wie ist das möglich?“, sprach er mit heruntergelassener Kinnlade. Auch Aaron hatte signifikant an Körpergröße dazu gewonnen. Beide waren sie gleich auf, nur hatte Aaron mehr Muskelmasse am Körper. Eine wohl geformte Brust, zwei kräftige Arme, ein Eightpack und Schultern so breit wie er einst lang gewesen war. Und scheiße man… war das? Ja. Zwischen seinen Beinen hing ein Biest von einem Glied. Die Saat der Lust tropfte am schlaffen Schaft herab. „Bist wohl genau so überrascht wie ich“, entgegnete Aaron und schritt an ihm vorbei. Jeder seiner Schritte brachte den Boden zum Erbeben. Sein Blick fiel auf Leifs pulsierendes Gemächt. „Sag bloß, du hast ihm nicht dabei geholfen?“ Er grinste schelmisch und Leif errötete. „Beruhig euch, Leute.“ Fynn kreuzte die Arme vor der Brust. „Wir müssen uns etwas einfallen lassen, bevor…“ „Bevor was?“ So viel dazu. Caleb zog die Brauen tief ins Gesicht. „Ich denke, ihr alle schuldet mir eine Erklärung.“ Kapitel 4: „Ich bin bitter enttäuscht von euch und besonders von dir, Fynn.“ Caleb warf ihm einen Blick zu, der ihn gefrieren ließ. „Ich mag ein Sportfanatiker mit der entsprechenden Muskelmasse sein, aber das ist alles komplett natürlich. Das Zeug, was ihr gegessen habt? Nicht mehr als ein Gemisch aus rohen Eiern, Putenbrust, Milch und Hülsenfrüchten. Niemals würde ich mich mit irgend nem Zeug zu pumpen, das mich groß und dämlich macht.“ Diesmal wandte er sich direkt an Aaron, der trotz seiner Größe wie ein kleiner Junge zusammengesunken war. „Das Gefühl, deinen eigenen Körper dank harter Arbeit im Fitnessstudio wachsen zu sehen, ist doch das beste an einem Workout. Keine Abkürzungen. Keine Tricks.“ Er seufzte und warf den Kopf nach hinten. Das feurige Haar folgte dabei der Bewegung des Windes, der zur Nacht hin stärker geworden war. Alle schwiegen sie. Aaron und Leif hatten ihre Männlichkeit mit einer Decke verdeckt, sodass lediglich ihre nackten Oberkörper zu sehen waren. Das Feuer der Öllampe warf schwere Schatten auf ihre Muskeln und ließ sie größer und gewaltiger wirken als sie es jemals gewesen waren. Während Leif vor Scharm wie eine Tomate glühte und sich schüchtern hinter Fynn verbarg, hatte Aaron seit ihrem Treffen kein einziges Wort mehr gesprochen. Stattdessen starrte er lediglich zwischen die eigenen Beine, schob die vertrocknete Erde mit seinen Füßen zu einem Haufen zusammen. Wir sind schon ein jämmerlicher Haufen. Ein Zweimeter-Riese, der sich weiterhin wie mein kleiner und schüchterner Freund verhält und grübelnder Muskelberg, der seine Stimme verloren hat. Nur er allein weiß, was in seinem Kopf vorgeht. Fynn seufzte. „Hör zu“, sprach er und streichelte dabei die kräftigen Beine seines Freundes. „Das alles war nur ein großes Missgeschick. Hätten wir geahnt, dass es…“ Ein Blick auf seinen Freund genügte. „Hätten wir gewusst, dass es derart ausatmet, wir hätten niemals…“ „Macht euch keine Vorwürfe“, entgegnete Caleb kurzerhand. „Ihr hattet keine Ahnung.“ „Und du hast sie?“ Aarons kühle Stimme hätte ihn beinahe vor Schreck umgeworfen. Caleb nickte. „Während ihr eure… Muskelexzesse hattet, habe ich in meinem Handy ein wenig recherchiert. Wegen der verlassenen Hütte oben am Tannengipfel. Offenbar haben ein paar verdammt schlaue Typen dort oben irgendwelche Spielchen getrieben. Im Darkweb gehen Gerüchte eines militärischen Forschungsprojekts umher. Die Foren waren letztes Jahr voll davon.“ „Und was hat das mit uns zu tun?“ Aaron zeigte sich unbeeindruckt. „Nun warte doch mal ab“, knurrte Caleb. „Die haben Experimente durchgeführt. Erst an Tieren, dann an Menschen. Der Fisch, den du vorhin gegessen hast, der muss auch von dort oben stammen. Angeblich wurden die Forschungen eingestellt und das Zeug vernichtet.“ Das brachte Fynn auf eine Idee. „Glaubst du, die haben das Zeug in den Fluss gekippt?“ „Würde zumindest erklären, warum du und Leif auch gewachsen seid. Die Strömung muss das Zeug bis zu deinem geliebten Tümpel getragen haben. Das Wasser hat es verdünnt und du hattest bloß Hautkontakt, weswegen du nicht gleich auf Baumhöhe gewachsen bist. Dein Freund allerdings hatte weniger Glück.“ Leif lächelte unschuldig. Wieder stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht. „Wie viele Flaschen hat er nochmal getrunken?“ „Fünf“, hauchte er kurz angebunden. „Es waren fünf volle Flaschen.“ „Das heißt, wenn wir diese Tümpel finden, können wir mehr wachsen?“ Aaron musste sich ordentlich zurückhalten. Seine Hände zogen die Decke über seinen Beinen straff. Was hat dieser Idiot schon wieder vor? „Noch mehr wachsen?“ Fynn hatte sich wohl verhört. „Du willst… nein. Auf gar keinen Fall.“ „Fynn, hat Recht“, stimmte Caleb zu. „Wer weiß, was das Zeug tatsächlich mit euch anstellt. Außerdem… was ist mit deinen Eltern? Wie willst du ihnen deinen plötzlichen Wachstumsspurt erklären?“ „Nicht nur unsere Eltern werden Fragen stellen.“ Leif schluckte ängstlich. „Was ist, wenn die, die das damals in die Wege geleitet haben, davon erfahren und uns zum Schweigen bringen wollen?“ Daran hatte Fynn noch gar nicht gedacht. Seine Hand ruhte weiterhin auf Leifs Bein und er spürte, wie diesem ein Schauer durch den Körper jagte. Er fürchtet sich, erkannte Fynn. „Ich werde nicht zulassen, dass sie dir etwas antun.“ Um seiner Aussage mehr Wert zu verleihen, schnappte er sich Leifs Hand und drückte sie mit der seinen. Das schien ihn ein wenig zu beruhigen. Gut. „Wir werden morgen früh zur Berghütte aufbrechen. Bis dein Vater zurückkommt, bleiben uns noch gut zwölf Stunden.“ Caleb gähnte verschlafen. „Gute Idee“, ergänzte Fynn. „Vielleicht hat, wer auch immer dort oben war, etwas Nützliches zurückgelassen.“ „Gut, dass wir das besprochen haben.“ Caleb stand auf und streckte sich. „Morgen um sechs brechen wir auf. Bis dahin sollte jeder von euch eine ordentliche Mütze Schlaf bekommen.“ Er lenkte sein Augenmerk auf ihr zerstörtes Zelt. „Fynn und Leif können in meinem Zelt schlafen.“ „Und was ist mit dir?“, fragte Leif kurzerhand. „Ich schlafe mit Aaron zusammen. Sieht nur zu, dass ihr in dieser Nacht wirklich nichts mehr treibt. Ich verstehe ja, dass so ein großer und gewaltiger Körper äußerst erregend ist, aber wir haben nur noch die beiden Zelte.“ Er wandte sich nun an Aaron, der über beide Ohren strahlte. „Das gleiche gilt auch für dich. Erwische ich dich einmal mit deiner Hand in meiner oder deiner Hose, kastriere ich dich mit einer Nagelpfeile.“ Am nächsten Morgen standen sie tatsächlich alle geschniegelt und gestriegelt vor dem Pfad, der sie höher und tiefer in den Wald hineinführen würde. Während man Aaron mit Leichtigkeit in ein Shirt und eine luftige Jogginghose von Caleb gesteckt hatte (er mochte ein wenig bulkier darin aussehen als der ursprüngliche Besitzer), trug Leif lediglich eine provisorische Tracht aus Decken. Irgendwie hatte Fynn sie ihm um die Hüfte und über Brust und Schultern gewickelt, sodass er ein wenig wie einer dieser Römer aussah. Wirklich wohl fühlte er sich darin allerdings nicht. Wenigstens muss er nicht nackt gehen. „Seid ihr alle bereit?“ Caleb zurrte das Stirnband enger, das seine stachligen Haare fixierte und ließ die Schultern kreisen. „Bis zur Hütte sind es gut anderthalb Stunden Fußmarsch. Wir werden nur zum Pinkeln rasten.“ „Kann ich nicht doch vielleicht hierbleiben.“ Leifs Stimme drang zart aus dem Hintergrund. Fynn schaute ihm direkt auf die linke Brust, die durch eine offene Stelle in der Deckentracht hervorragte. In der gestrigen Nacht hatte er sich mehrmals zurückhalten müssen. Mitten im Schlaf hatte Leif seine mächtigen Arme um ihn geschlossen und ihn härter werden lassen als jemals zuvor. „Du wirst mitkommen, ob du willst oder nicht“, betonte Caleb. „Nach allem geht es hier vor allem um deinen übernatürlichen Körper.“ Aaron schmunzelte. „Wer weiß? Vielleicht finden wir noch was, um uns größer zu machen.“ Calebs Blick alleine genügte, um ihn zum Schweigen zu bringen. „Sonst noch irgendwelche brillanten Ideen? Keiner? Gut.“ Fortan ging es stets bergauf. Über die Nacht hatte sich der Himmel über ihren Köpfen zugezogen. Die Luft war schwül und lag Fynn schwer in der Lunge, während er einen Fuß vor den anderen setzte, seinen massiven Freund stets im Blick. Bei jedem Schritt verformten sich die Rückenmuskeln, passten sich der Bewegung an. Ein Schauspiel, das ihn erregen würde, wenn der Weg vor ihnen nicht so anstrengend und schwer wäre. Bloß einmal hielten sie an, um Wasser zu lassen. Trotz seiner neuen kräftigen Beine nutzte Fynn die Gelegenheit um sich auf einem Baumstumpf niederzulassen und einen Schluck aus seiner Wasserflasche zu nehmen. „Willst du auch?“, fragte er Leif. Der Junge nickte. Bevor er die Flasche allerdings ansetzte, zögerte er. „Die kommt doch nicht aus dem Tümpel, oder?“ Das amüsierte ihn. „Den Fehler mache ich nicht zweimal. Hab’s aus dem Fluss geholt und abgekocht. Caleb hat bereits daraus getrunken. Also sollte es sicher sein.“ Leif verschnaufte und trank sie zur Hälfe leer. Danach ging sie auch schon weiter. Sie passierten die baufällige Hängebrücke und starrten den tosenden Fluss herab. Steine wie Speere ragten aus den schaumigen Wassermassen hervor. Ein schlagkräftiges Argument für sie, nicht den Weg über die morschen Holzleisten zu wählen. Stattdessen wählten sie einen Umweg, der sie dich an den Klippenvorbeiführte. Bald schon erreichten sie ein Schild, dass Hoffnung verhieß. Demnach gab es einen weiteren Übergang keine hundert Meter von ihrem Standort entfernt. Inzwischen wurde es auch höchste Zeit. Der Himmel verdunkelte sich und erste mutige Tropfen stürzten sich in die Tiefe, wo sie ihre Körper benetzten. Als sie die andere Hängebrücke überschritten, musste sich Fynn von Leif tragen lassen. Auf wagemutige Balanceakte in schwindelerregenden Höhe hatte er noch nie sonderlich gut reagiert. Die Blässe stand ihm ins Gesicht geschrieben. Hätte er gefrühstückt, wäre es ihm sicherlich hochgekommen. Eine weitere halbe Stunde später erreichten sie endlich ihr Ziel. Gerade rechtzeitig, denn der Himmel riss nun vollkommen auf. Zu lauwarmen Regentropfen gesellten sich kräftige Windböen, die an den Wipfel hoher Tannen zehrten, und tiefes Donnergrollen. Jetzt lag es an Fynn, seinen Freund schützend in die alte Holzhütte zu führen. Schon damals hatte Leif lieber die Decke über den Kopf geschlungen als vor einem weit geöffneten Fenster zu stehen und dem Orchester des Sturmes zu lauschen. Heute bangte er dank seiner neu gewonnen Größe umso mehr um sein Leben. Aarons Spruch, er sei nun ein wandelnder Blitzableiter half dabei überhaupt nicht. Die Tür zur Holzhütte stand verdächtig offen. „Hallo?“, rief Fynn, indes er vorsichtig hereinschritt. „Ist jemand da?“ Einzig und allein der Wind antwortete ihm, ein Heulen, das durch Mark und Knochen fuhr. „Verlassen, wie ich’s euch gesagt habe.“ Caleb jagte ihm einen Todesschreck ein. Das Herz rutschte ihm in die Hose und er hätte aufgeschrien, wenn nicht all seine Freunde anwesend gewesen wären. Reiß dich zusammen, verdammt! „Ich schlage vor, wir schauen uns hier ein wenig um. Ich kümmere mich um den Dachboden.“ Caleb zeigte auf ein altes Geflecht aus morschen Stufen, die sich zur finsteren Decke hinauf wandten. „Dann nehme ich den Keller!“ Aaron rannte davon, aber Fynn packte sein Handgelenk und hielt ihn auf. „Und wir kommen mit“, knurrte er. Den lasse ich hier nicht alleine. „Und wer kümmert sich dann ums Erdgeschoss?“ „Leif, wärst du wohl so freundlich?“ Leif nickte stillschweigend. Aaron stammelte daraufhin irgendeinen Fluch. „Dann haben wir wohl ein Date“, lächelte Fynn und folgte Aaron durch den verlassenen Korridor. Über einen Abstieg gelangten sie schließlich in den Keller. Unten war es sogar noch unheimlicher als oben. Nicht einmal das Unwetter konnte diesen Ort noch erhellen. Das Grollen hingegen wurde zu seinem ständigen Wegbegleiter. „Was glaubst du? Werden wir etwas finden?“ Irgendwie musste er sich ablenken und auf andere Gedanken bringen. „Irgendwas finden wir bestimmt.“ Aaron hatte seine Handytaschenlampe eingeschaltet und leuchtete ihnen den Weg. Der Fußboden war anders als erwartet nicht aus Holz gefertigt, sondern mit sterilen Fliesen ausgelegt. Selbiges galt für die Wände. Unterhalb der morschen Decke hatte sich allerdings eine schwarze Schimmelschicht gebildet. Was auch immer einst hier geschehen war, lag nunmehr in der Vergangenheit. „Hier ist was!“ Aaron deutete auf einen großen Raum und eilte voraus. Wenn etwas in dieser alten Berghütte auf geheime Forschungsaktivitäten hindeuten sollte, dann musste es dieser Raum gewesen sein. An den Wänden standen reihenweise Tische und Regale. Einige von ihnen waren noch mit Reagenzgläsern, Erlenmeyerkolben und anderen sonderbaren Behältnissen gefüllt. Eine Konstruktion ließ auf eine Küche hindeuten. Die Töpfe hatte man allerdings sorgfältig zurückgestellt und vollständig gereinigt. Fynn stieß gegen ein Tischbein. Zeit für sein eigenes Handy. Das grelle Licht schien frontal auf einen eisernen Tisch, der Fynn am ehesten an einen Operationssaal erinnerte. Riemen hingen zu den Seiten herab. Einer war während der Prozedur offenbar gerissen. „Hier ist etwas!“, rief Fynn, aber Aaron schenkte ihm keine Beachtung. Vorsichtig beugte sich Fynn nach vorne. Mit all der befremdlichen Muskelmasse war es schwer, unter den Tisch zu greifen. Schließlich hielt er ein altes Dokument in den Händen. Die Zahlen darauf ließen ihn erschaudern. Hier hatte tatsächlich jemand an einem Serum geforscht und war offenbar erfolgreich gewesen. Eine Tabelle zeigte die Veränderung eines Testsubjekts auf. Vergrößerter Brustumfang, aufgeblähte Armmuskulatur, geschwollenes Genital und erhöhter Lusttrieb. Innerhalb einer Woche hatte sich das Gewicht der Person verdoppelt. Bilder zeigten Ausschnitte des Geschöpfs, das sie erschaffen hatten. Fynns Gemächt erwachte, während er die Finger über die kräftigen Brustmuskeln wandern ließ. Die haben Supermenschen erschaffen. Und offenbar hatten sie nicht über einen Rückweg nachgedacht. „Schau dir das mal an“, bemerkte Fynn und lief auf Aaron zu. Der Junge erschrak und wandte sich ihm blitzschnell zu. Hinter dem Rücken hielt er irgendetwas versteckt. „Was hast du da?“, fragte Fynn kritisch. Aaron lächelte unschuldig. „Nichts.“ „Zeig her.“ „Da ist nichts. Wirklich.“ Aaron blieb stur. In einem Moment der Unvorsichtigkeit konnte Fynn einen Blick auf das Gefäß erhaschen. Eine grünliche Flüssigkeit schimmerte darin. „Das ist doch nicht etwa…?“ „Ich will bloß einen Schluck nehmen!“ Ehe Aaron den Flaschenhals ansetzen konnte, hatte Fynn seine Hände umklammert. „Kommt gar nicht in Frage!“, protestierte er. „Ein Schluck davon und du bist jenseits jeder Rettung!“ „Vielleicht möchte ich gar nicht gerettet werden? Vielleicht möchte ich größer als ihr alle zusammen sein!“ „Du bist ein Idiot!“ „Aber ein Muskelidiot!“ Beide zehrten sie am Gefäß. Gleich einem Tauziehwettbewerb wanderte das Gefäß mal in die eine und mal in die andere Richtung. Fynns Muskeln übersäuerten bereits und trotzdem wollte er nicht nachgeben. Aaron mochte mittlerweile stärker als er gewesen sein, aber Fynn hatte die größere Willenskraft. „Lass los!“, knurrte Aaron. „Wie du willst!“ Daraufhin ließ Fynn das Gefäß los. Aaron, der nicht damit gerechnet hatte, taumelte nach hinten und verlor den Halt. Klirr. „Was hast du getan?!“ Sein Blick fiel auf die Scherben zu seinen Füßen. „Du hast es verschüttet.“ „Leute.“ Leifs Stimme drang an sie heran. Sein Gesicht war von grünem Schleim überzogen. „Was ist das für ein Zeug?“ Plötzlich riss er die Augen auf. „Nein. Bitte nicht.“ Fynn traute sich nicht zu antworten. Allmählich verschwand die grüne Substanz, indem sie in Leifs Haut einzog. Scheiße man. Das ist gerade nicht passiert. „Das ist so unfair!“, grummelte Aaron und verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. „Was tust du hier unten?! Solltest du nicht oben sein?“ Fynns Stimme klang wie ein Paukenschlag. „Ich habe oben nichts gefunden und wollte runterkommen und euch bei eurer Suche helfen.“ Schweiß perlte bereits auf Leifs Stirn. Sein ganzer Körper schimmerte im Licht seiner Handytaschenlampe. „Fuck.“ Er schnaufte. „Fynn, bitte, du musst es irgendwie…“ Ein Stöhnen kam über seine Lippen. „Mhmmm…“ Heißer Dampf stieg von seinem Körper auf. Tief in seiner Brust klang der dumpfe Paukenschlag seines Herzens. Badum. Badum. Ein Trommelschlag, der lauter und lauter wurde und seine Veränderung ankündigte. „Ungh… fuck…“ Unter Leifs Deckentracht regte sich etwas. Eine große Beule zeichnete sich ab und wuchs mit jeder verstreichenden Sekunde in die Länge. „Ahh… scheiße. Bitte. Fynn…“ Plötzlich wuchs Leif in die Höhe. Lediglich wenige Zentimeter, doch es reichte aus, um die Spitze seines Gemächts unter der Decke hervorstehen zu lassen. „Wehre dich nicht dagegen“, hauchte Fynn. Der Anblick der Spitze ließ ihn umgehend hart werden. So groß. Er griff in seinen Schritt und umfasste seinen eigenen Schaft. Leifs Gemächt musste mittlerweile so dick und lang wie ein kräftiger Männerarm gewesen sein. Trotzdem war kein Ende in Sicht. Während draußen der Sturm seinen Höhepunkt erreichte, Donner und Blitze gleichermaßen um die Vorherrschaft rangen, stieg heißer Dampf von Leifs Körper auf. Schweiß hatte das Gewand, das er trug, dunkel eingefärbt, sodass es inzwischen wie eine zweite Haut an seinem Körper haftete. Darunter erkannte Fynn die ersten Veränderungen, ein Beben, das Leifs Körper erschütterte und sich allmählich ausbreitete, bis es ihn in komplette Ekstase versetzt hatte. „Ich wehre mich nicht dagegen“, stöhnte sein Freund. Weitere Zentimeter gesellten sich zu seiner Körpergröße dazu. „Im Gegenteil.“ Langsam hob er den Arm, auf dass sich die Decke über seine mächtige Brust spannte und erste Fasern rissen. „Ich kann es fühlen. Eine unglaubliche Kraft. Sie fließ durch meinen Körper.“ Er spannte seinen rechten Arm an und ließ Muskeln von der Größe eines Volleyballs anschwellen. „Mit jedem Atemzug fühlt er sich gewaltiger an…“ Als hätte er es kontrollieren können, füllte sich sein Arm mit noch mehr Muskelmasse. Muskeln, die Fynn noch nie zuvor gesehen hatte, kamen zum Vorschein und wurden von größeren Muskeln verschluckt. Sein Trizeps verlieh seinem Arm die Größe eines Beines und war so mächtig, dass Fynn beide Hände zum Befühlen gebraucht hätte. Der Bizeps, inzwischen von der Größe eines prall gefüllten Basketballs, pulsierte mit jedem Donnergrollen und ging nahtlos in einen Vorderarm über, der allmählich die Größe einer von Fynns Waden annahm. „Scheiße“, keuchte Leif. „Es fühlt sich so verdammt gut an. Meine Brust…“ Fynn hörte das Reißen von Fasern und schaute hinauf zur Brust seines Freundes, welche sich vor ihm aufbäumte. „Warum macht es mich so hart?“ Mit beiden Händen fühlte er über die prallen Muskeln, tastete über die reißenden Muskelfasern, die Raum für größere, stabilere Fasern schafften. Jeder Teil seiner Brust schien den anderen übertrumpfen zu wollen. Wenn die untere Brust an Fülle und Gewicht dazugewann, holte die mittlere auf, bloß um schließlich von der oberen verschlungen zu werden. Wie zwei Hälften einer Globuskugel zeichneten sich die Brustmuskeln unter der eingerissenen Decke ab. „Ich halte es nicht mehr aus“, stöhnte Leif und fing an, die Decke entzwei zu reißen. Derweil stießen seine Schultern zum Wettkampf der Muskeln dazu. Fuck. Sind das wirklich seine Schultern? Fynn hatte sie als massive Kanonenkugeln in Erinnerung gehabt, aber mittlerweile übertrafen sie selbst einen Medizinball. Jedes Muskelsegment hatte ein eigenständiges Leben entwickelt. Seine neuen Schultern verliehen Leif eine unnatürliche Breite. Er stieß gegen ein Seitenregal und zerdrückte es schlichtweg unter seiner Kraft. „Aaron!“, rief Fynn kurzerhand, als er sich für einen kurzen Augenblick von der Verwandlung seines Freundes loslösen konnte. Aaron schaute mit seinem Gemächt in der Hand zu und schenkte ihm nur so wenig Beachtung wie unbedingt möglich. „Du musst Caleb warnen!“ „Wieso?“, entgegnete Aaron. „Mach es einfach!“ Fynn hatte keine Zeit für solche Spielchen und Aaron schien den Ernst der Lage zu erkennen. „Wie du willst“, grummelte er, versteckte sein Gemächt in der Hose und zwängte sich an Leif vorbei in die Freiheit. „Aber du bist mir was schuldig! Nach allem hätte ich das sein können!“ „Scheiße man…“ Leif stieß ein tiefes Grollen aus. Mittlerweile hatte er die Hände um sein Glied geschlungen. Es pulsierte gleich einem lebendig gewordenen Biest und hatte die Größe eines ausgewachsenen Mannes erreicht. Während es zur Decke ragte, schienen weitere Muskeln auf Leifs Körper aufzutauchen. Der Junge spürte es und lenkte Fynns Aufmerksamkeit auf seinen Rücken. Wieder rissen Fasern und binnen weniger Sekunden explodierten zwei gigantische Latissimi aus der Decke hervor. Vollkommen nackt stand sein Freund nun vor ihm, ein mächtiger Rücken, der von einer Laborwand zur anderen ragte. „Verzeih mir, Fynn“, hauchte Leif und krümmte sich nach vorne, als sein Kopf die Decke berührte, „aber ich kann nicht länger.“ Seine Finger drückten zu und ließen ihn aufstöhnen. „Ich muss es einfach tun.“ Während Leif damit beschäftigt war, sein eigenes Gemächt zu massieren, ragte ihm Fynn inzwischen gerade einmal bis zum Bauchnabel. Ein steinharter Wall von Bauchmuskeln hatte ihn beinahe vollkommen verschlungen. Acht perfekt voneinander getrennte Segmente zählte Fynn, acht Segmente, die größer und kräftiger als seine geschlossene Faust waren, acht Segmente, die ihn zum Anfassen, zum Berühren einluden. Nein, sagte er sich selbst. Ich darf nicht… ich sollte nicht… sollte ihn nicht ausnutzen. Sein Glied zuckte in seiner Hose, nachdem Leif noch einmal an Höhe dazugewann und sich erste Risse in der Decke formten. „Meine Beine“, stöhnte Leif. „Fuck. So groß. So stark.“ Von Leifs Stimme gelenkt schaute Fynn nach unten. Scheiße man. Ein feuchter Fleck bildete sich dort, wo sein Glied gegen die Hose presste. Leifs Beine waren gigantisch, zwei Baumstämme, die er nicht länger umfassen konnte. Neben den Hauptmuskeln, die mit jedem Atemzug anschwollen und sich gegenseitig verdrängten, hatten sich kleinere Gruppen dazugesellt. Die Knie waren unter den Massen beinahe vollkommen verschwunden. Alleine die Waden waren breiter als sein eigener Rumpf und wurden sogar noch größer, als Leif donnernd auf die Knie sackte, um sich selbst mehr Raum zu verpassen. „Du musst mir helfen“, hauchte Leif. Er schnappte sich seinen Freund, eine Hand so groß wie sein eigener Rumpf und schob ihn dicht an sein pulsierendes Glied heran. „Bitte“, flehte Leif und presste die Hände gegen die Außenwände. Nicht mehr lange und er würde durch die Decke brechen. Inzwischen hatte Leif den Raum vollkommen ausgefüllt. Seine Schultern hatten die Größe zweier Lasterreifen angenommen und wurden lediglich von diesen massiven Brustmuskeln, die ihn mit ihren Schatten in Finsternis hüllten, übertrumpft. Ihm helfen? Fynn betrachtete den pulsierenden Schaft, gegen den ihn sein Freund unweigerlich geschoben hatte. Das Teil hatte die Festigkeit eines Baumstammes erreicht mit dem einzigen Unterschied, das das Leben darin förmlich explodierte. Zaghaft legte er die Arme darum und spürte, wie sein Freund erwachte und zufrieden grollte. „Das ist es“, stöhnte er und warf den Kopf nach hinten. Fynn schaute zu beiden Seiten und erkannte die mächtigen Beine, die ihn einhüllten. Wenige Sekunden später trafen Leifs Füße auf die Außenwand und schufen somit einen Durchbruch. „Mehr!“, grollte Leif, seine Stimme dem Nachhall eines Donners gleich. „Fester.“ Fuck. Fynn war so kurz davor, einzig und allein dank dieses spektakulären Anblicks zu kommen. Er fing an, das Gemächt seines Freundes voller Euphorie zu massieren. Inzwischen brach Leif durch die Decke, doch das hielt ihn nicht auf. In einer einzigen Bewegung, in welcher er seine Arme anspannte, riss er die nächste Außenwand ein. Mittlerweile musste er ein Monstrum von sechs Metern Höhe und fünf Metern breite gewesen sein. Ein Glied von der Länge eines Baumes gab die ersten Tropfen der Lust preis und verdeckte Bauchmuskeln, von denen jedes einzelne Segment so groß wie ein Medizinball war. „Mhmmmm…“, stöhnte Leif. „Hör nicht auf.“ Während Fynn weiterhin sein Glied massierte, fühlte Leif über seinen anschwellenden Arm, ließ ihn entspannen, um ihn mit neuer Größe zurückzuholen. „Ich bin… ahhh… scheiße…“ Dem Klang nach zu urteilen war Leif kurz vor seinem Abschluss. Fynn war schon vor einer Minutengekommen, was ihn nicht daran hinderte weiterhin hart zu bleiben. „Ich… ich…“ Leif stieß ein tiefes Grollen aus. Seine Füße brachen durch die nächste Außenwand. Von oben warfen grelle Blitze ihr Licht auf diesen monströsen Körper. „Fuck.“ Plötzlich verwandelte sich Leifs Glied in Stein. Noch einmal explodierten seine Muskeln mit Kraft. Seine Brust riss die Treppe ein, die zuvor zum Dachboden geführt hatte. Sein Rücken brach durch eine Fensterfront und ließ erste Regentropfen in den Keller hinein. Dann explodierte er selbst. Sein Gemächt gab eine Ladung nach der anderen frei. Eine gigantische Hand packte Fynn und hievte sie nach oben. Verängstigt schaute er mit an, wie Leifs ganzer Körper unter der Gewalt des Orgasmus kontrahierte und weiter anschwoll, bis er durch das Dach brach und das Haus vollständig zerstörte. Die weiße Saat der Lust floss an seinem Schaft herab und verschwand im tosenden Fluss. Nachdem der Orgasmus endlich abgeklungen war, schien auch Leifs Wachstumsschub ein Ende zu finden. Vorsichtig legte der Gigant seinen Freund auf seine Bauchmuskeln. Fynn konnte nicht einmal über die enormen Brustmuskeln hinwegsehen. „Das war gut“, keuchte Leif und lächelte unschuldig. Sein ganzer Körper strotzte vor Kraft. Ich habe ein Monster geschaffen, dachte Fynn und kletterte über die Bauchmuskeln und hüpfte über eine Rille zwischen der unteren und mittleren Partition. Der finale Wachstumsschub hatte seinen Freund in ein Monstrum von der Größe eines Hauses verwandelt. Er hatte das heißeste Monster geschaffen, dass er jemals gesehen hatte. Ein Muskelriese. Und er ist mein Freund. Fuck. Was gäbe ich dafür, mit ihm zu wachsen.

Ok, so, first story…. I’ve been thinking about writing one of my own for a while but haven’t had the guts to do it until now. I apologize if there are errors in syntaxes, at school teachers don’t really specialize on cursing or sexual interaction. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 1 Well, it all first started pretty simple, when you think about it, most things usually do. First things first, name´s Christian, Chris for friends (if any). I’m a med student, top student but average in other aspects: 5’9’’, not athletic but not slim, hairy and I love it, and…. gay. However, schedules don’t really help my love life, nor my physique. That’s really frustrating since I’m attracted to muscular guys, but an average guy doesn’t attract much attention. I do get an occasional hook up, usually guys who are into hairy guys, but not anyone I yearn for. Then came one fateful afternoon. I got a call from an old friend. I was actually taken aback at first, and really tempted not to answer at first. You see, Jim, who I had once considered my best friend, hadn’t called me for at least 5 years. So, I was really surprised to hear his voice when I picked up the phone: -Hey Chris! What’s up man! -Well, life goes on you know? But I doubt you can notice that… -Come on, I know I’ve been a bad friend… -You can say that again -Jeez, I forget how ironic you can be when you’re mad. -Jim, anything else you wanna talk about besides my sarcasm? It’s already annoying having you talking to me as if it was yesterday when we last saw each other, but, it’s been 5 years. Five fucking years Jim! Where were you when I needed you the most?! -Easy man, I know I deserve this and more… -Really? -Let me talk, just as you tell other people -Fine – I hate when I’m stuck with my own morality – What do you want? -As I was saying before Mr. Resentful interrupted me, don’t say a word Chris –damn, he’s still got that ability to know when I will protest even before I try–, I know I’ve probably been the worst of friends. And I wanna make it up to you, or at least try. -Go on… -I know you’re a fan from Scheherazade’s stories. So, when I travelled to the Middle East… -You didn´t even leave the country! Filming a documentary in a Moorish building doesn’t count… -Shut up and listen man, you’ll make me loose the point. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted -he said this with a playful smirk while I could only turn my eyes on him-, in my journey I found a picturesque scenery for my film. As I was about to enter a local café, my attention was drawn to an old woman who was selling junk in the street. At first, I thought it would be the classical useless stuff and when I was about to leave, the old woman asked me: -Looking for something in particular young man? -Not really, I’m just filming here, and all this scenery reminded me of a friend. -Oh, I see. Good friend of yours? -Him? Absolutely! Me, well I’ve neglected a little -that’s when I almost killed him with my eyes-, …fine, I’ve neglected a lot our friendship. Would you let me continue instead of enjoying this “I am totally right” moment??!! -Sorry -I said with a malicious smile. I won’t deny I was enjoying where this was going. After clearing his throat, he continued: …and when I saw you I thought you might have something my friend would like. He’s a fan of the One Thousand Nights, maybe I could find an “I’m sorry present” for him. -Are you really sorry young man? -I truly am, I know actions speak louder than words, and I’ve really been inactive. That’s my major problem, and the main reason I want to do something to make it up to him! At this point, I wouldn’t have cared if he got me something or not, his speech was heartbreaking, at least from my point of view. -Interesting. I may have something that fits him. What can you tell me about your friend? It will make it easier to find the right choice. -Well, Chris is a really nice guy. Always taking care of people and, as he says, “trying to make people see their true potential”. I don’t know how he manages that though. But, as a matter of fact he’s been hurt for that same reason several times, as people don’t appreciate him. They take him for granted, just as I did… -I’ve got to admit Chris, I told her that with a lot of remorse, but let me continue- -Have you ever read Mardrus’ version of Scheherazade? -Nope, probably Chris has. -No wonder why this place reminded you of him. Well, as a matter of fact, it is said that Mardrus’ version is actually pretty accurate, as Scheherazade did live among us a long time ago. Obviously, he made changes to the story and he never found out everything -that’s when she got out this little box-. May I present you the magic ring that once belonged Scheherazade. You won’t find this story anywhere, as only Scheherazade, in her wisdom, kept many secrets from the world. As you know, Scheherazade was a young woman who told stories every night to her king, as she wished to save the women in her kingdom, as the king married a new wife every night and executed her in the morning as a punishment for his first wife, the late queen, who had cheated on him. The detail that no one has ever talked about is this magic ring. It is said, that Scheherazade asked the magic ring for a solution to stop the executions. As a result, she acquired the knowledge to tell amazing stories and devised the well-known plan. -Wow! Does it really work? -Of course, young man. There’s a requirement though: the person who attempts to use the ring must acquire it fair and square, have a pure heart and have a strong will. If not, the ring will lose its power forever. -Incredible! That would be an awesome gift! Can it really do that? But how? -Have a strong will, think about what your heart desires and it will come true. But if it doesn’t, it was a very nice story, wasn’t it? So, if you’re interested, it would be $20.00 young man. -And that’s how I got your gift! -Ok…… I’m not really sure about it though. Besides, how are you sure it will fit? -Oh come on, you are the person with the strongest will I know. You never gave up, not after all the troubles you’ve had: mean classmates, that crazy girl that stalked you, …the loss of your parents. Come on man! At least try it on! It’s blue…. Your favorite color… That was the moment when I opened the little box he was giving me. It contained a silver ring with a blue stone, a sapphire maybe, or at least intended to be one. It had writings all over it, seemingly in Arabic. It looked nice, and I couldn’t name it, but I felt a connection to the ring. Wait a minute, a connection?! What was I thinking?! It was a weird moment, but then I tried it on. To my surprise it was the perfect size, just as if it was custom made. -See? I told you it would fit. Are you going to wish something? -The only thing I wish right now is that you and I go out and have some fun. The evening wasn’t remarkable: movies, dinner, a few beers. By the end of the night Jim had completely forgotten about the magical ring stuff. I, on the other hand, was giving it a serious thought from time to time. I’m not going to lie, as an avid reader of course I has read Mardrus’ version of the One Thousand and One Nights, or The One Thousand Nights and One Night to be more precise. It was a very interesting approach to a classic tale. But if it was true, there were a few things I had really given a thought to wish for if a chance like this would appear. I found myself arriving home thinking about this. The bright side of being an orphan is that you have all the place for yourself. Don’t get me wrong, I practically raised all by myself. Both my parents worked, so I was left alone at home after school. I learnt how to spend time by myself, even though I really cherished the time with my parents. When they both died at the accident, well, it was as if they had permanently gone to work. I do miss them, but I was already used to be alone before they died. When I arrived home, I hurried to leave all my stuff I had. Still with the ring in my hand, I went to my room in front of the full-body mirror I have. One of my biggest and wildest dreams is to be a muscular guy, a pretty muscular guy. However, I don’t want to lose control or get permanently too big I can’t go back a little. So, a while ago I had came up with a plan: if I ever got the chance to wish for something, it would be to have the power to alter my body in any way I want, as well other people’s bodies with a little bonus: I decide who gets to know a change has taken place, that is if I wish to get as big as Craig Golias I would be able to do so and everyone around me would think I had always been that big, unless I wished otherwise. With that in mind, I closed my eyes and thought: if your power is real (and I really want to believe it is) please grant my wish: to be able to change my body and anyone’s body for that matter in any way I want just by thinking it but apart from me, no one can remember the changes ever occurred, and only if I want, certain people will notice the changes. At first nothing happened, but then, there was a bright blue glow coming from the ring. I could only think: Yes! Finally! Something nice has happened! Part 2 I couldn’t believe it. There were so many things going in my mind: first of all, did I really have a strong will and a pure heart? Apparently so, as for the glow the ring gave a few moments ago, its magic had worked. Believe me, people mess up with your mind when they try to hurt you. That moment really cheered me up, I wasn’t the bastard I had been led to believe. Secondly, oh my, I can’t wait to try my powers! Where shall I begin? My first goal: be 7 feet tall. But how was I supposed to do it? The powers didn’t come with an instruction manual. Think Christian, think…. That’s it! Think! I started to think how amazing it would be to be 7ft tall, to be able to look above most people’s head. That’s when I felt it: I felt how my balance was changing and saw the floor from a higher view. And oh reality, my mirror wasn’t 7ft tall, I would miss everything! Unless… I wish the walls of my room had big mirror each covering them. A blue smoke appeared, and my wish came true. This was easy, maybe it would be useful to do other stuff…. In the meantime. Now I could see myself from every angle. Ok, let’s start. 5% fat…. Wow, so that’s why everyone at the gym said I had the shape for bodybuilding, let’s take advantage of that. But some other things first: full beard, no scars on the face, baritone voice, shoulder-length hair and more hair in the chest and in my treasure trail. By the way, full clothes on, though now my t-shirt and pants seemed small. To think I’m not half from done… Ok, let’s make it to size 48 without putting muscle, just bone structure. Now, a ten pack…. Oh yes that feels good, a brick wall. More shredded… yes, totally loving to feel the grooves between my abs. now, remain all the way long with a 30in waist. Mmmmm loose jeans…. Not for long. Bubble butt, bigger, that’s it (oh yes, I can be a total bottom) and able to take any dick but at the same time, as tight as possible. Now the front: 12in soft and 8in wide, also in a soft state, proportional when fully erect. Ops, on my way to find out which proportions will be. Focus, focus, pomegranate-size balls, able to produce a gallon of cum with orgasm. Oh my it’s getting harder to focus but I can make it. Before I completely loose it: I wish this ring fits me no matter the physical changes I go through. With that checked, where were we? Oh yes, restraining jeans. Tree trunks, so big it gets difficult to get my ankles together. All the leg muscles de….. oh yes….. defined, sartorius muscle visible, diamond cut… ugh calves Rrrrriiiippp, there go jeans. I’ll get of my shoes for this one: feet size 15. Wow, new balance, I almost fell down. Impressive, if I may say so. Well taking the whole picture it looks ridiculous: pieces of jeans hanging for their lives to two impressive tree trunks, a bubble butt with boxers that now look like a thong and a big cock begging for release. All of this attached to a skinny broad-shouldered torso. Best for last. But first things first: cock release. So much pre, I shall resist the urge to drink it… that give me an idea, but for later. Now, big pecs, bigger, that they block my view, perfect. A glass can rest over them, and my shirt’s neck is so stretched it now gives a sexy view of the shelf I now own. Back. Big, awesome back, that puts any pro bodybuilder to shame. Big lats, as wings, that force me to have a permanent 45 degree angle. Talking of which: big biceps, 24in arms for starters, with triceps resembling hooves. Big hands, long fine fingers, able to manipulate a scalpel, but also able to crush anything I want. Also, smooth fingertips but a callous palm, to be intimidating at a hand-shake but capable of caressing a lover. Rrriiipp. That’s when I lost it: so much power, so much strength, so manly, I had to cum. The best and biggest orgasm ever, it felt like a thousand of a regular orgasm and that still feels short to describe. I could only feel myself flexing and cumming. My instructions were accurate: I was cumming about a gallon after every orgasm, it took about 50 shots to finish each orgasm. What I never took in consideration was that I tend to have 4 or 5 orgasms. It was a mess, a really manly mess. That’s when I had an idea: I wish for my cum to be nutritious, for anyone who drinks cannot starve by only drinking my cum. I want it to be delicious for everyone and, at the moment I desire, my cum will act as the best aphrodisiac ever. Well, right now I have a lot of cum to drink/clean. But I can also pump it directly from the source to my mouth. It’s gonna be a long night. Imagine how awesome this is going to be when I have sex and use my new powers. I can’t wait, but I’m also hungry. Bon appetit! ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Well, here’s my story for the time being. Hope you guys like it and have as much fun reading it as I had writing it. I hope to continue it soon. My exams area near so I’ll try to make time for writing. It’s my first story and my first post ever in this forum. I’m a little nervous about it. Any feedback will be appreciated!

After a fun weekend on the beach, I had a bit of inspiration and this is the start of what I thought would really just be a short scene type of story. Please forgive the typos, grammatical errors and such as I just needed to get this started and posted... I literally couldn't sleep with this story floating around in my head haha. Hope you enjoy! The Grow Fish Part 1 The weather was perfect. You couldn’t ask for a better day on the beach, and it was the 4th of July no less! The local gay beach would be overrun with guys from LA to San Diego, and as luck would have it, I arrived with my boyfriend early enough to secure a prime spot, just up the sand from the wave tossed water front. This was exactly where you wanted to be to watch all the hot, bathing suit-clad guys as they ran into the water in varying degrees of near nakedness. Yes, today would be the perfect start to another glorious Southern California summer! My boyfriend, Jesse, and I had been dating nearly 7 months. Surprising to both of us, considering our much longer history of chatting on and off on Grindr. It took us practically a year to even meet in the first place. I wasn’t in a hurry to date, enjoying new found freedom from my previous relationship… Ok lets call it what it is: I was being a sex crazed man-whore. And with the body I’d been working on over the past couple years, finding some hot hookups was not a challenge! At just a hair under 6 foot, I’d taken my 32 year old rather average and slightly overweight 215 pound body down to a lean, muscular 185. Not that I let it go to my head, really. I was still a bit modest and unused to the amount of attention I could garner from the thirsty crowd of horny males cluttering the gay apps… all ultimately looking for sex, thinly veiled behind a mask of friendship or gym buds, or whatever line they cared to use. But modesty didn’t stop me from enjoying the reward of my hard work! In contrast, Jesse, was all too happy to give me time and space to explore. Apparently, he saw more in me than one night of fun. We did meet last spring, however, and hit it off epically. What originally started as a few dates turned into a couple months, and some really great sex along the way. While he’s not a buffed up gym rat like myself, he sports a smaller, less muscular 5’7” dancer’s frame. The difference is actually what I find appealing… I get to be the big muscular boyfriend, and he loves appreciating my bigger body and how it feels against his own. Sometimes I'd even noticed him proudly showing off his man to his friends via some of my Instagram photos. Eventually, though, he broke it off, saying I was still unprepared for anything serious. We stayed in touch, and after months with a growing sense of desire for something more concrete and a distaste for all the meaningless sex, I asked him out again. With some obvious trepidation and discussion of what he was truly looking for in this potential relationship, we agreed to make it exclusive. Now, nearly 2 years after our initial online conversation, here we were: madly in love, enjoying the sun, sand, and cleverly disguised drinks of Gatorade and vodka with our close friends, under one of a couple hundred canopies, umbrellas and tents that lined the beach. All that remained was to kick back, and mentally undress the horde of sexy men flaunting their bodies before us, while avoiding eye contact with any previous hookups that I preferred not to have to introduce to Jesse as they walk by. Of course, that didn’t stop a few from making their presence known, along with a handful of friends I actually enjoyed seeing amongst the crowd. A couple hours into the day, I saw a couple from my gym. They are a somewhat oddly paired match once you get to know them a bit, but are the sweetest and truthfully sexiest married couple I know. Hell, they even wanted to have me over one evening for some fun, but schedules never worked out in my favor sadly. Nevertheless, both go by Chris strangely enough, both are nurses, and share the same height of about 5’8”. However, thats where the differences start. While Chris #1 is a fiery and outgoing Latino with a leaner build and a wild streak, Chris #2 is a quiet, reserved Asian guy with a thicker muscular body and a go with the flow personality. I honestly never can quite tell what he’s thinking, he just smiles and lets life happen. We stood a while, catching up on each others lives, talking about how I was doing with Jesse and the new relationship, and other random gossip of the day. Chris #1 continued on about their latest adventures at EDC in Las Vegas and all the fun they had, when suddenly he stopped mid sentence. His eyes grew large, as I could tell his attention was drawn away to something happening beyond our conversation near the water. It wasn’t until his usual effeminate exclamation of “oh my god”, that I turned to see what was happening behind me. A rather large fish (what I thought to be an over grown dolphin) had washed ashore, and had a small group of guys gathering around it. Dolphins aren’t an uncommon sight around our beaches. They’re often seen swimming through the open waters, scaring surfers, and delighting tourists, but I’d never seen one this close, or this large. The group of guys around it seemed to be discussing what to do and how to get it back in the water, when two of them bent down to touch it. What happened next set both of my nurse friends running into action, as I stood there mouth agape. Upon contact, both guys appeared to have been shocked with a sort of electrical discharge and flew several feet back from where they were kneeling. Naturally, this caused the other guys around the creature to quickly retreat, leaving it to suffer further on the wet sand alone. About the time that my two friends reached the two that were unconscious, I snapped out of my stupor and joined them to see how I could help. Latino Chris had reached one of the guys and knelt over him, asking him if he was ok and shaking his shoulder to see if he was responsive. However, his arm recoiled when he grabbed the guy’s shoulder, and he yelled, “Shit! I just got shocked.” He attempted to rouse the guy again, roughly rubbing his chest and once again jerking back from an apparent shock. Asian Chris seemed to be having the same experience as they looked at each other, sitting on the sand next to the bodies and discussed what to do. One victim seemed to be breathing while the other next to my Latino friend either was not breathing at all or it was so shallow it was undetectable. He reached up to his neck to check for a pulse and despite some obvious discomfort from more electrical shock, he determined the guy needed CPR. His husband moved over and started compressions as best he could, while Latino Chris performed the mouth to mouth breathing functions. Both would take a few seconds between their duties to back off, shaking their hands or head and release a few expletives due to the jolts they were taking, then return to action. Not even my own CPR training could have prepared me for something like this. You never actually expect to use it, much less face something so bizarre in the process of trying to save a life. Ultimately, the guy started breathing and shuddered back to life after about a minute of CPR. Coughing, he weakly sat up and put his head between his knees, trying to catch his breath and recover from the trauma. The Chris’s fell back on the sand, breathing heavily from the dramatic experience and rested for a moment. The 2nd victim began to stir as well, and we could breath a sigh of relief that it seemed they would be just fine. After a few moments, I gave my hand to my friends to help them up off the ground. To my surprise both of them shocked me! It felt almost like a quick static discharge and it was done. I shook my hand out and laughed, as I asked them if they were ok. Looking up from my hand I realized, at that moment, I wasn’t looking at the top of their heads like I usually do. Instead, Asian Chris was eye to eye with me, if not slightly higher, and Latino Chris was clearly looking down at both of us from a few inches above. My first response was to look down at the sand, as I must have been standing in a hole or they were on the higher part of the beach as it sloped up from the water. But neither was true, and the odd height difference was just the beginning. In fact, I watched as both of their feet elongated slightly, pushing through the sand a couple inches. Then calve muscles developed, pushing out an inch or two on either side of their legs, followed by their quads. Latino Chris’s growth was even more prominent as his legs exploded with new muscle and size. Large tear drop shapes formed as his quads pulsed bigger, pushing into each other and causing him to adjust his stance significantly. My gaze traveled higher as his cute red, white and blue speedos stretched to its limit both in the back and the front. Already decently endowed (he’d once told me he was just shy of 7.5” downstairs), I saw his suit bulge forward like a water balloon. The top opened slightly as his cock grew in obvious length and girth, competing for space against his enlarging balls. A curved portion of his brown hose like penis pushed up and over the edge of his speedos, the head buried somewhere far below visibility, which just served to accentuate his new size. Even in its current flaccid state, I couldn’t imagine it being anything less than 9 or 10 inches soft and already thicker than any cock I’d ever seen. His abs, which had already been well maintained, began popping into greater definition, the valleys between them etching deeper and deeper by the second. The top row was quickly being eclipsed by a growing shadow casted by pecs which had previously been firm and tight, but were now much fuller and stretching all directions into large manly slabs of meat, and pushing out a couple inches from his chest. While his nipples began pointing downward and tanned areolas growing wider than a half dollar coin, the sides of his pecs were beginning to spill out beyond my view, rubbing against swollen and inflating veiny biceps. Large and growing arms attached to thick, rounded deltoids practically the size of my own head, began to flex in response to the growth being experienced. Unexpectedly, I heard him chuckle, the typical effeminate voice I’d grown accustomed to now gone and replaced with a much deeper rumble. I looked up now, further than before, and stumbled back a step, shocked by how much taller he’d gotten. My eyes were just level with his chin, so I had to guess he was close to 6’6” now, maybe more… a growth of practically 10” in just minutes! His face, sitting above ominously sloping, thick traps, was even more rugged. He’d gone from a cute pretty boy, to gorgeously handsome; a look you could only describe as devastatingly attractive masculinity. A grin formed slowly on his lips as he looked down on me. He was most certainly the new alpha between us and clearly enjoying the revelation as he explored his massive body, and I tried not to pass out myself. To be continued...

After all the positive feedback I received about the first part of this story, I almost didn't want to try to write this part. I'm posting it reluctantly. I really hope you all can enjoy this part at least half as much as the first. Please, any feedback is appreciated, even if only to tell me you think it sucks! Part 1 __________________ I felt myself begin to sway and my vision was spinning. Did he really just say that? The thought of having sex with this god was too much for my mind to handle. And my dick felt like it would explode. I didn't know a human being could produce so much cum in one day, but here I was, probably surpassing records already, and my dick was about to unleash yet another massive torrent of semen. As I began to sway, I felt two hands on my arms, gripping them, one on either side. The strength in them was unmistakable, and I regained my composure when I felt my dick throbbing again. My vision steadied, and I regained focus on what was before me. Bryan was already a beautiful sight to behold. He had the tan skin of someone who spent most of his time in the sun. He had great style, always looking like he belonged in fashion magazines with whatever he was wearing, all the while making it look like it was always a bunch of clothes he just threw together. He had those light brown eyes that could almost be mistaken for yellow, which complemented his golden curly hair extremely well, and it was all too refreshing that he didn't have blue eyes, which is the overly seen cliche of an appearance for a dude (or even girl). And that hair of his... I don't know how it was so perfect, but it just was. His hair had grown more since we moved in, and it was down past his shoulders in length. It was thick, almost fluffy looking, and he had the sexiest appearance of a surfer dude. Of course, as of now, he had tied his hair up into a pile on his head. Which, quite honestly, was just as sexy as when it was down and uninhibited. Just those parts of his appearance were enough to give me a stubby, back when we first met. He was sexy, hot, and beautiful. But then, today, we finally admitted to each other we liked each other. It was a strange interaction, to say the least, but we got it out in the open. And Bryan... he didn't waste time engaging in some fun. And what goddamn fun it was. The specimen in front of me, holding my arms, making sure I wasn't going to fall over and pass out, is, to me, a perfect example of what male perfection looks like. He was not only beautiful, like he was before, but now he had grown into a muscle god. Muscles bulging all over him, arms that were mountainous when he flexed, abs upon which I could wash my clothes (quite literally), a chest so big I could lose my fingers in his cleavage, legs bigger than my two legs combined, and a dick that had to have doubled in size. And we were both completely naked, with our dicks standing straight up and out, oozing precum onto the floor. His was like a fountain the entire time he was growing, and I don't know how he managed to keep his hands off of it. Yes, there was a puddle forming on the carpet. And he just told me that we haven't even had sex yet. And he still had growing to do. Oh just the idea was making me swoon again. He held my arms tight, squeezing them. His eyes were looking into mine, and mine into his. It was strange looking slightly upward into them now, after having looked down into them only an hour earlier. My dick throbbed hard at the idea of having sex with this god. He pulled me closer to him, our dicks rubbing into our naked skin. I shuddered. He had a concerned look on his face, but still maintained a slight smile. He lowered his face to mine, and planted his lips on my lips. Suddenly the feeling of vertigo completely vanished, and it was replaced with total comfort and safety. I hummed softly, and I could feel his lips smile. I immediately brought my arms around his back, one lower than the other, and allowed my hands to roam all over the muscled terrain. Our dicks were pressed firmly between our bodies, and I could feel the sticky wetness that was seeping out of each and spreading between us. We both pulled our lips apart simultaneously, and he had a huge grin on his face. Fuck. That face. I could stare at it for days and days on end. He wrapped his arms completely around me, and I could feel the ridiculous muscles of his arms pressing into me. I laid my head against his chest, and the hard muscles of his pecs had absolutely no give. And yet, they were so warm and comfortable, like my head belonged precisely right there. I wanted to hold him closer to me. I wanted my soul and body to merge with him. Physically, we were already as close as we could get; but I wanted to become one with him. He suddenly detached himself from me, and I was slightly dismayed at first. But then he spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever. "How ya feelin', dude? You gonna be okay?" He chuckled ever so slightly. I nodded in response. "Yeah... yeah. This is all just... insane. But, amazing. I've never even fantasized about this type of thing, and yet here you are, an actual dream I didn't know I had." "Would you sayyyyy... I'm better than a fantasy?" He flashed that evil grin and flexed his right arm. I felt my dick throb again. "Oh fuck, Bryan. Yeah, you're better than a fantasy." I wrapped my hand as much as I could around his huge bicep. It was so hard, and quite vascular. My fingers couldn't even reach from top to bottom, from his peak to his bottom triceps. "What would make this even better than it already is?" He sounded so innocent as he asked it, yet he maintained that evil look in his eyes. "I'm... uhh, I'm not sure it can get any better than this." He held his arm flexed, and even pumped it a few times, letting me feel his mountain of a bicep flex and unflex and flex again. Then he lowered it, grabbed my hand, and flexed his other arm, and did the same with that one. "Unnghh" I quietly moaned. "You think so?" He kept his eyes locked onto my face, even though my eyes were on his hot arm. "I dunno, BRAH. I think it can." "Wha...? Huh?" I was zoning out, too busy looking at his sexy-as-fuck muscles. He took my face with his hands, and planted another kiss on my lips. He pulled away, briefly, and smiled. Then resumed kissing me, letting his tongue slip between my lips, entwining with my own. Even his tongue had grown stronger, as it dominated mine. He lightly bit my lower lip, and tugged on it. He then moved his lips to my cheek, kissing me all around my face, and allowing his lips to travel to my neck. Every so often he'd use his tongue and flit it over my skin, then resume the kisses. He then moved his mouth to my ear, still using his tongue, and bit on my ear lobe. His hot breath on my ear sent shivers up my spine. I think I was silently moaning. I couldn't even make noise, but I felt like I was definitely moaning. He took my hand, and guided me to his bed. He sat down on the end, and pulled me down next to him. Our dicks were still at full mast, standing straight up. He kissed my lips again, softly, and wrapped his hand around my cock. I felt jolts of electricity shooting up and down my limbs, and my entire body quivered. He then shoved himself backwards onto the bed so his whole body was on it, and he pulled my arm with him. As he lay on his back, he looked up at me. His chest was heaving up and down, and his abs were clenching and unclenching with each breath. His shoulders were so fucking hot; so round, and so big. I had turned myself around, on my knees on his bed, looking down at him. He no longer had a smile on his face. "So, you ready for this, dude? I plan to give you exactly what you want." My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't even remember what I told him I wanted, or if I ever did tell him. Again, I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't make sound come out. "D'you remember? You told me I should get as big as I could possibly get." He chuckled, and pulled me down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around my body, and pulled my face to his for a long, passionate kiss. His strength was enormous as he held me against him. I wouldn't have been able to escape, not that I wanted to. His tongue was so far into my mouth I swear it was partly in my throat. "Mmmmm" I heard him moan. I was kissing him back, trying to fight his tongue for dominance. But losing. My hands were roaming all over his sexy arms and over his shoulders and traps. It was my turn to moan. Our dicks were pressed between us, and I could feel every time his would throb and quiver. Precum was still oozing everywhere. The smell of sex now completely permeated the entire room, and I wouldn't be surprised if the scent had made its way through our door and into the hallway. I might be taking a leap, but I wouldn't be surprised if this was the most two human beings had ever been sexually aroused. "Fuck, yeah," Bryan whispered. "It's time, bruh. I need you to fuck me." What. My mind was sent spiraling as it sank in that he wanted me to fuck him. I honestly figured it'd be the other way around. My dick ached, and I realized I wanted to be inside him more than anything else in the world right now. I wanted to be one with him. I wanted to fuck him. I looked into his eyes, and he into mine. The connection I felt with him in that moment was so strong. The bed creaked and moaned a little as he shifted his body and turned himself around, getting on his hands and knees. His ass was in the air, and I finally got a good look at the bubble butt he now possessed. His ass muscles had grown, too, and there were even striations visible. I saw him shudder. "Fuck me, Alex, dude!" I didn't need to be told again. I moved behind him, taking a small moment to appreciate the gigantic triceps that were bulging out of his arms as he supported his own weight. His ass was beautiful, and I took my hands and placed them on either side. I brought my pelvis towards his hole, and allowed my dick to glide down his crack lightly. "Unnnnnffff!!" He moaned. I felt shivers, myself. I inserted my tip, slowly breaching him. "Ohhhngg," he moaned again. "Oh fuck," I whispered. I pressed some more, inching my way into him, letting my cock slowly make its way inside. Every centimeter was pure, electrifying pleasure that shot its way up my dick and radiated throughout my entire body. I kept pushing, until all 7 inches were inside him. "FUUUUCK!" He yelled. I flexed my dick a few times, and started to fuck him. I slowly pulled back a bit, then rammed him. Then one more time. I began increasing the pace, and each time he'd either moan or shout an expletive. His hair was beginning to fall out of the tie he'd put into it, but he didn't seem to even notice. The telltale sound of sex was filling the air in between his moans, and then I heard it. That soft stretching noise. My eyes nearly bulged right out of my head when I saw what was taking place. His back was widening again. The terrain of his back's huge muscles was already impressive, but now they were swelling and bulging even more. His shoulders were swelling bigger, and I could see his traps rising even more towards his ears, almost making it look like he had no neck from behind. His midsection remained largely the same, but as I held onto his ass, I could feel more swelling there, as well. The muscles were forcing my fingers to spread apart as they grew, and I glanced down and saw even his legs were growing again. "Oh fuck, OH FUCK!" He yelled. His calves were getting fucking huge, bulging into bowling ball size masses. "FUUUUUCK!" He moaned. I was so glad I was on auto-pilot, because I continued fucking him, gliding my cock in and out of him over and over, enjoying the feeling of his tightening hole around me. I was beginning to feel the sharpness of an orgasm welling up at the base of my dick, and I knew I was going to cum soon. His hair had completely fallen out of the hair tie, and his golden curls were hanging in front of his face, swaying with our rhythm. His triceps were getting fucking insane. They were already huge horseshoes, but now they were getting even bigger. His triceps were flexed as he held his weight up, and they seemed to be responding to the strain by growing faster than anything else. And there was no doubt that his biceps were growing, too. I continued fucking him, in and out, and the bed was creaking and squeaking louder with each thrust. His increasing weight was placing a strain on the bed, and I couldn't even imagine how much this beast must weigh now. "Unnnnngh!! FUCK! OH FUCK!" This is the loudest I'd ever heard Bryan get. Veins were snaked all around his arms, and then I saw his neck bulge as even it grew larger. I happened to catch some movement from below me, and I saw his legs inching longer, and FUCK, he was getting even taller. That did it. I felt the sharp explosion that occurred within my balls, and then the intense pleasure of cum shooting from them and into my dick, surging to the tip. "FUCK! BRYAN I'M CUMMING! OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!!!" And then "Crrreeeeaaakkk" the bed made the loudest noise it had yet, and suddenly we were both falling with the bed as its legs finally gave up and snapped from the weight. "FUCK!" I yelled again, as the first shot of cum blasted from my dick and into Bryan's ass. The bed's collapse did nothing to stop our rhythm. "Ohhhhh yesssss, OH YESSSS!" Bryan's voice was deeper, and its sound made my dick throb even harder than it was before as it shot more hot cum into his ass. "Unnngh!" Bryan was grunting each time I shot. My cock tingled as my orgasm ran its course, and I arched my back as the final surge of cum blasted into Bryan's hole. I felt the final throb as my dick expended itself for what felt like the hundredth time for the day, but this time inside this muscle god. We both remained in position, panting. His body was huge and so muscular. My dick was softening inside him, still, and I was reluctant to separate myself from him. I pulled until I popped out, and I saw him begin to push himself up onto his knees. I sat back on my legs and, still panting, watched as he turned himself around. My heart stopped in my chest as I took in the behemoth that now sat in front of me on top of a broken bed. He was an absolute monster. His chest was so big you could sit things on it, and his nipples were pointing downward. His serratus muscles were even pronounced, sitting on either side of his abs and beneath is chest. FUCK! His lats were the wings that denoted his status as a real life angel. He was breathing hard, as his chest moved up and down, and his abs clenched. His shoulders were at least as wide as two of me, and absolutely huge. I think his shoulders were as big as water melons, with veins protruding from them and snaking down is godly arms. And oh my god. His arms. They were so fucking hot. My dick was already plumping up again as I took in the sight of him, and when I laid eyes on his arms, my dick instantly shot up to full mast. I'd imagine he could lift a car at this point. At least one end of a car, anyway. But shit! The amount of strength this man must now possess was beyond my imagining. My cock was throbbing again, already. And then I noticed his dick was still hard as ever. I think I understood now why his dick grew so much in the beginning. His body simply grew to match the size of his dick. As I was scanning his body with my eyes, I didn't notice he was watching me. I finally happened to look at his face and saw this cute half smile appear when our eyes met. I have to be honest, though. At this point, with this giant in front of me, I felt slightly intimidated. He could lift me with one hand and crush me, if he wanted. He was partially laid back, resting his weight on his elbows as he watched me. "Like what you see, bro?" He finally spoke. His deeper voice made my dick quiver, and it resonated within my soul. I loved it. I gulped, and realized my throat was once again dry. And nodded. He sighed in response, and let himself collapse entirely onto the mattress, his beautiful hair spreading out in a sunburst behind his head. Laying flat, I could see he had a content smile on his face, and he was just gazing at the ceiling. "Dude, the amount of cum you shot into me... Holy fuck." He lay there in silence for a while, and I could only sit where I was, staring at him and appreciating his beauty. "Dude! What are you waiting for? Come here!" He was tilting his head up and met my eyes, and beckoned me to his side. I tentatively moved toward him, and I felt his iron grip wrap around my arm. He pulled me down next to him, and wrapped his gigantic arm around my back, bringing me close to him. He turned his head so his face was right in front of mine, and his beautiful golden eyes were staring into mine. I suddenly felt safer than I'd ever felt before. I felt as though this is exactly where I was meant to be; that there was literally not one other place on Earth that was better suited for my presence. He moved his face so close to mine our noses touched, ever so lightly. He then kissed me softly and gently, only for a second, and then held his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes, and I followed suit, and all I could hear was our breathing. Then I felt it. My entire body was wracked with immense pleasure as I felt Bryan's fingers wrap themselves around my cock. I opened my eyes and saw his eyes again, looking into mine, with that devilish grin on his face. "Ready, BRAH?" FUCK that surfer shit made me go nuts. He started jerking me, and I wasn't far off from another explosion as it was. I decided I was done letting him give me all the pleasure, so I wrapped my hand around HIS cock. It was huge. My fingers didn't even meet all the way around it, but as soon as I touched him, he groaned. "OHHHHNNNGGGGHHYYYEeesssssss!" I felt his dick throbbing hard, and rapidly. He was so hard and horny. Veins were pulsing and snaking all over it. "Unnngh! Unnnff!" He was grunting and groaning with each stroke of my hand. He bucked his hips, and I saw his entire lower torso leave the bed. I suddenly felt his entire body quivering, and I knew he was close. It was right then that I felt that immense pressure at the base of my own dick, and I knew I had an imminent explosion coming. "Oh fuck, FUCK! Bryan I'm gonna cum!" I felt the sharp sensation of cum entering my dick and launching to the tip. My head turned dark red, and a shot of hot, thick cum blasted out across the dorm room and went as far as my own bed on the complete other side of the room. Then another. My balls were emptying themselves yet again, and I felt throbbing throughout my entire being as my dick shot blast after blast of cum across the room, until it was just a slight dribble oozing out and around Bryan's hand. As soon as my orgasm subsided, Bryan's began. "MY TURN, DUDE! OH GOD! HERE IT COMES!!!! OHHHHNNNNNGH FUCK!!" His cock throbbed hard once more, then it flexed in my grasp. I felt my fingers forced apart, and FUCK! It grew! Again! But then I heard the cum leave his shaft. "AHH!! AHHHH!!" He was practically screaming. I saw his eyes roll back into his head, his mouth wide open. I could actually hear the first shot erupt, and a white hot thick rope of cum shot so hard that it went straight to the ceiling, splattering so hard that we heard it make impact like a fucking water balloon splattering against a wall. I felt his cum raining down on me, and then another powerful shot erupting, splattering the ceiling again. More of his godly cum rained down on us. He shot like that at least 10 fucking times, and every time, it hit the ceiling. It finally started to subside, and his cock was shooting less distance. Finally, it was just a dribble, leaking cum all over my hand and the bed. "Oh FUCK, dude! That was the best orgasm of my life!" Cum was still dripping from the ceiling, and neither of us cared. It was everywhere. Bryan sat himself up on his elbows, and looked over at me. He had a grin on his face, as he typically does. I felt so small next to him, and it was so hot. I couldn't reconcile the fact that this dude was smaller than me only hours earlier. Now he was a monster. A hot, sexy, beautiful surfer monster. I looked back up at him from laying on my back, breathing hard. We may have broke a record somewhere for most intense love-making. Bryan sat all the way up, and scooted himself to the end of the mattress so he could stand. He stood up, and HOLY FUCK, his head was brushing against the ceiling. He was absolutely huge, and all muscle. He brought his arms up into the air and stretched, and I saw the devilish look in his face when he suddenly brought his arms down into a double bicep pose. "Unnnnff..." I moaned, and shuddered, at the display of power before me. He knew he was putting on a show, and I loved it. He made like he was stretching another way, and then placed his hands by his hips and flared his lats. And then, he didn't even bother trying to look like he was stretching, he just went right into a most-muscular pose. I felt myself swooning again. "Come on, BRAH! Stand up! I didn't grow for you so you could just look at me!" I stood up, and he grabbed my hand and brought my body against his. He wrapped his arms around me again, and held me. I reciprocated the embrace, and we stood there like that for several moments. The light of dusk was entering the room. Bryan broke our embrace, and he, for the first time since before he started growing, showed his less confident side. "Soooo, uhh... Alex, dude... did you like it? I mean, how I... grew... and everything?" I felt a smile widening across my face as he said those words. Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes from pure happiness. His face was turning bright red. He was blushing! This dude just grew into a muscle god, and he was blushing! My heart felt like it was going to explode. "Bryan." I shook my head, and looked down at the floor, trying to avoid laughing. "What?" He responded, softly. "I love you." The smile that spread across his face was joy, no doubt about it. And it made me so happy that this perfect dude was the guy I fell in love with. He grabbed my hands with his, and pulled me into his body again, and kissed me, long and hard. His golden hair fell over my own face as he did. He only broke the kiss to say, "I love you too, brah. You're definitely the perfect dude."

This is the first time I'm attempting to post in this section. I'm trying to improve my writing and I hope at least a few of you enjoy this. Yes, I know it's cliche. But I honestly had this idea pop into my head as sort of a daydream a few years ago. Please let me know what you think! ______ As a first year college student, 18 years old, I never knew what to expect from living in a dorm. I mean, I'd heard stories from various sources about what it was like, but the actual thing was nothing at all what I'd expected. I'd always heard about parties and constant shenanigans within college dorms. Some of the dudes in this dorm had some fun, but it was quiet for the most part. I knew I'd have a roommate. I was expecting some dude who'd be into partying, and being boisterous, but this guy was pretty tame. He'd often spend time reading and studying, or just watching Netflix, or even playing some video games. He'd rarely make the effort to speak to me. Not that he was rude, or anything! He was always polite. He just never tried to engage in any more conversation than was necessary. I was the first of the two of us to arrive on move-in day. I entered the dorm and surveyed the space, taking note of everything. I didn't want to begin unpacking my things until my roommate arrived, because I didn't want to dominate the place before he'd even had a chance to claim any space for his own. There were two beds, of course, one on either side of the single window. The closet was to the right of the doorway, and it was rather large. I opened the closet to take a look and I decided to put my bags on the floor in there just for the moment. As I was doing so I heard the dorm door open. At first I was thinking "what the fuck?" because it was my dorm, but I quickly remembered I was sharing it with someone. I moved the closet door so I could look at who was entering the room, and there he was. I assumed, anyway, that he was my roommate. He had long curly blonde hair that reached his shoulders, light brown eyes, and even a few freckles on his face above his nose and under his eyes. He was tan, his skin a nice bronze color as though he were someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. He had to be around 5'9." He was wearing a simple white T-shirt with some RCVA logo on the front, and tan cargo shorts with a lanyard bearing the school colors hanging out of his pocket. He had black socks on that went up to just below his calves, and red Supra shoes. He had sunglasses on top of his head, which were pulling his hair back a bit farther from his face than I imagined it usually sat. He didn't notice me at first because I was kind of obscured part way inside the closet door. "Hey man." "What the?! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me." He jumped backwards a bit. "Ah sorry, I wasn't trying to do that. I was just putting some of my shit in the closet. My name's Alex." "I'm Bryan. Good to meet you, Alex, dude. I guess we're roommates, huh?" He held his hand out, and I shook it. "Looks like it! This your first year, too?" "Yeah, but I took a year off from school. I'm 19, just turned 19 two months ago." "Oh that's cool, I kind of wish I could have taken a year off." I laughed. We then began unpacking our belongings and deciding how to divide up the space. He seemed like a nice enough dude. We were about two months into our semester when it dawned on me that Bryan never had any girls or friends in general come to the dorm. He really never left, actually. He only ever went to class, or to go eat. He'd brought with him some dumbbells when he moved in, and he'd sometimes do brief little workouts with them, but he never actually went to the school gym. At least not as far as I knew. I mean, I wasn't exactly one to talk. I rarely did much social stuff, either. I'd sometimes go chill with a few friends here and there, but it wasn't often. I was more of a "follower," so to speak, in the sense that I wasn't one to initiate social events. I usually waited til someone else invited me to do something. And I was no slouch, athletically. I'd worked out throughout high school, and I continued to do so in college. I wasn't huge or anything. I had abs, a decent chest that would show through a tight enough shirt, and decent arms. I liked being able to use the school gym since I didn't have to pay for a membership. I'd try to go at least 4 times a week. Bryan's little dumbbell workouts were always fascinating, though. I'd be reading or trying to do homework, and he'd bring them out and start lifting them in various ways. He'd always start with curls. I loved watching him lift them over and over, watching his biceps contract into nice little balls in his sleeves. He'd then do tricep extensions, and he'd lay down on his back and work his chest. He wasn't big by any means, and he really didn't ever gain any weight. But watching him workout, though, was something I loved doing. I'd always get hard watching him. I never mentioned to him that I was gay, and I doubt it was something I should ever bring up. If he had something against it, it'd be a rough time living with him for the remainder of our time in this dorm. I did find him super attractive, though. His hair had gotten longer since he moved in, and it was a few inches below his shoulders now. Sometimes he'd pile it on his head. He reminded me of a surfer. He'd always finish his workout by doing some sit-ups. He'd do maybe 10, then stop for a while. Then 10 more. Then he'd stop for another while. He never took his shirt off, so I wouldn't be able to actually see his abs. I always kind of thought he did things a little weird. But at the same time, I just enjoyed watching. Discreetly, though. I'd be behind my laptop or reading a book or something so I could steal glances without him noticing. Many times when he was done I'd have to run down the hall to the bathroom to take care of myself. There were times when I'd considered asking him about his workout plan. I mean, he wasn't going to gain anything if he used the same weights all the time and did the same exact basic exercises. I was curious about what he was hoping to achieve. But, at the same time, I liked watching him. I didn't want to ruin it! It was a dilemma. If I asked him about it, maybe I could motivate him to go to the gym and start making some gains, which would be so hot. But then I'd never get to see him workout in front of me anymore. He was so confusing to me. At some point I would have to actually ask him about all of this. If nothing else, it would get him to hopefully open up some more and actually talk. My curiosity was getting the better of me one Friday afternoon. I'd finished up my last class of the day and was heading back to the dorm. The whole trek back I kept thinking about Bryan. I couldn't get him off my mind. I opened the door and he was sitting at his desk, on his computer. He looked up and said "Sup?" and I greeted him back. I went to sit at my own desk and pulled out my laptop. I had some homework to do and I figured I could at least start it. Bryan continued tapping away at his keyboard. I couldn't tell what he was working on but it didn't matter. He stood up from his desk and went to the closet. He opened the door and pulled out his dumbbells, and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to finally ask him. "Bryan, can I ask you something?" "Yeah man, what's up?" He looked at me, standing there with a dumbbell in each hand. "Well, I've noticed you working out with those dumbbells for months now, and I can't help but notice you're not exactly gaining any weight. What's your goal?" The corners of his mouth only slightly upturned. It was the faintest of smiles. But I saw it. "My goal? I don't know man, I just wanna stay in shape." "I guess that's as good a reason as any. Have you ever thought about trying to gain some size?" "You think I should try to get bigger?" Fuck. Yeah I wanted to see him get bigger. My dick hardened a bit in my shorts when he said that. "Welllll... that's entirely up to you. Strive for your own goals, don't let me decide for you." He turned his eyes upward, like he was thinking. His golden hair was down today, most of it tucked behind his ears with some strands hanging over his face, and he was wearing a blue and white plaid button-down shirt and tan cargo shorts. The guy had style, for sure. I mean, to me he could wear the fuck out of anything, really. "Well, what's your opinion, Alex? What do you think I should do?" My breath caught in my throat at that question. How do I avoid answering that one? If I'm honest, he might get the hint that I'm into him. But fuck, I'd love to see him start getting bigger and bigger. I'll have to finesse the language of my answer. "If you want to get bigger, then I think you should go for some size. I think the chicks would start lining up at the door for you if you do that." "You're a pretty fit dude, and you've never brought home any girls." Ah shit. Where do I go with that? He has to know. He said that with no expression on his face. He was looking into my eyes, and it made me uneasy. I opened my mouth to respond but I couldn't make any sound come out. He tilted his head like he was waiting for me to say something specific, but I couldn't even figure out for myself what I wanted to say. Then he smiled. "I've noticed you tend to watch me when I use these weights. And then more often than not you disappear from our dorm when I'm done. I'm guessing... you're not into girls, are you, Alex?" "I... ummm... no... I just..." He chuckled a little. "It's okay, Alex. I don't have a problem with it. I've known you watch me for a while now, and I've liked it. I like that you're into me. It's kinda hot. And I think you're pretty hot, too." I was completely shocked. I mean, this is a great outcome, but still, I never imagined he'd be gay. He looked like the kind of dude that'd never be into other dudes. I just couldn't bring myself to talk, still. I couldn't figure out what to say. "So, you think I should get bigger, huh? Would that make you more into me?" He was still standing in the same spot, still holding his dumbbells. I was finally able to find my voice. "What? No! I mean... Yes, I do think you should try to get bigger. But I'm already into you." I blushed. I could feel it. "Haha, cool. I'm glad to hear that. But, I will say, now that we've decided my goal should be to grow, I will grow. I won't just try. I will grow." He smirked at me. "How big do you want me to get?" He started curling his weights when he said that. He kept his eyes on me, his smirk turning into a kind smile. I saw his biceps contracting into balls as he lifted. It was making me hard. "Uhhhh how big do you want to be?" "No Alex. I'm asking YOU. How big do YOU want me to get?" "I guess... I don't know, dude! Like, ten minutes ago I had no idea you'd ever even consider the idea, much less that you were gay, AND into me!" He stopped curling the weights. One arm was contracted while the other stayed hanging by his side. His smile faded. "Whoa, man. I said I thought you were hot. I never said I was into you." I felt my mouth drop open as my mind just shattered. The disappointment that shot through my body was astronomical. Even my boner started to soften. "BAHAHAHAHA!" He busted out laughing, and I was really confused. I was even starting to get annoyed. "Oh you should have seen your face, Alex!" More laughing. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. "Fuck off, Bryan." "No, bruh, I'm just messing with you! Dude you were so tense I had to try to make you laugh!" His laughing faded. "I uh... guess you didn't find that funny, huh?" His face was more serious now, but still had a faint smile. His hair was a bit disheveled, more strands of curled golden locks in his face. "Wait, you were joking? So, you really are into me?" "Well, yeah, man. I think you're hot. I've been attracted to you since the day we met. It's why I never wanna go anywhere. I'd always rather just be in here, with you." He smiled again, and I felt myself blush again. He put the weights down on his bed. "You never did give me a real answer, though. How big do you want me to get?" I decided I'd give him an honest answer. "I love muscles. Nothing turns me on more. So, I guess I'm saying you should get as big as you can possibly get." "Well then. I guess I'd better get started, huh bro?" He flexed his arms, and I saw two nicely shaped biceps pop up in his sleeves. They weren't huge, or even all that big, but they were beautiful. They'd be so fucking hot if they were bigger. My dick was back at full mast, throbbing in my shorts. He smiled at me again. "You uhhh, know any good workout plans? Heh." He dropped his arms and I finally got to see him blush. "I can help you find what you need, man. It'll be easy, I think. You look like your genetics have you set to grow pretty easily and quickly." "You really think so?" He flexed his arm again, and looked at it. He ran his hand over it. FUCK my dick was so hard. "Y-yes. I do." I was trying so hard not to touch my dick. I had to look away. I looked back at my computer screen where I had some schoolwork pulled up. From behind me I heard Bryan say "I can't wait to start. I think it'll be fun to get big. For you." Did he really say that? He's really going to do this for me? I mean, it'd be so fucking hot, but he's way ahead of himself. There's no telling how much work he'll need to put in to even gain the smallest amount of weight. I only told him it looked like he'd have an easy time because I wanna motivate him. "Uhhh, Bryan, I already said you gotta do this for yourself. I can't be the reason you--" My words were interrupted by the force of my chair being spun by an unknown source. Bryan's face came into my view and I saw he had the back of my chair in his hand. "Oh no, dude. There's no better reason than to do it for you." Then he bent down and kissed me. I saw fireworks in my eyes when his lips made contact with mine. He reached a hand behind my head and began running his fingers through my hair, and kept his lips locked with mine. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. It felt amazing to finally have this amazing guy kissing me, which I never thought would ever happen. It was like a dream. He broke away, pulling his face back, and he used his other hand to sweep some of his curls out of his face and behind his ear. He was smiling, and his white teeth were shining in the light. I always thought he was hot, but now I'm finally seeing he's just plain beautiful. He was angelic. "I'm gonna grow for you, Alex. You wait and see." I gasped as I felt my dick throb. Bryan giggled a little, and reached down and grabbed my crotch. FUCK. "Wow, you're really fucking hard!" "Fuck, Bryan! What do you expect?" I closed my eyes and my head went back as he squeezed my cock through my shorts. "Unnnghh" I moaned a little. "Wow. You're gonna be fun to play with. But we can't yet. Not just yet." Was he really going to tease me like this?! "Bryan, you can't tease me like that! It's cruel!" He continued squeezing me through my shorts. He even started to jerk me off a little. "Oh, I can jerk you off if I want. But that's the most we can do for now." He winked at me. God he was so hot. "You wanna cum?" I nodded rapidly. The pressure I was feeling was insane. I wanted him so bad. He started jerking me off with more speed and energy, and he was squeezing every few seconds. "Ohhhh..." I moaned again. And then he removed his hand. He unbuttoned my shorts and pulled the zipper down, and then tugged my boxers down with my shorts. All 7 inches of my dick popped out, veiny and hard as steel. He mouthed the word 'wow' when he saw it. I felt some pride that he was impressed, but then I was wracked with jolts of pleasure when he grabbed me again, this time skin to skin in his hand. Oh it felt so good. He began jerking again, and squeezing. He was squeezing hard, too, making me writhe in my chair. He increased his speed, and continued squeezing. His hand was becoming a blur, and my mind was in a constant state of explosion. I couldn't even see clearly anymore, the pleasure was too great. The pressure at the base of my dick was growing, and soon I could feel the sharpness of an imminent ejaculation. I was gonna cum, and I was gonna cum hard. He squeezed hard once more, and that was it. "OH GOD I'M CUMMING!" He didn't stop jerking. He kept going, and I felt the amazing sensation of cum leaving my balls and entering my dick and surging to the tip. The first blast was a big one, hot and thick, and shot across the room and hit the window! And then the next one, another big one. It hit the wall right next to the window. I could hear the splatters as they made impact. And then another shot, this one not as strong but still big, hitting the floor. A few more spurts were launched, leaving a mess on the carpet, until there was only a little bit dribbling from the tip and onto Bryan's hand. He brought his hand up and licked it, cleaning up all of my cum from his hand. He chuckled a little. "You taste good, brah. Can't wait to do that when I'm bigger." I sat there, my head tilted back, breathing heavily. My chest was rising up and down with each breath. My dick was still feeling the residual effects of the massive explosion I'd just experienced, still exposed to the air as it slowly softened. I looked up and noticed Bryan was still standing there, looking down at me with a smile on his face. He was just standing there with his arms at his sides. I wondered if he was even hard. He gave no indication that he wanted to cum, too. I suddenly felt self-conscious, and sat up and started tucking myself back into my shorts. Bryan just chuckled. "What?" I asked. "Nothing. I just like looking at you." He crossed his arms. "I'm gonna run down and get something to eat, dude. You want anything?" "Ah, no thanks. I'm just gonna chill out for a bit. You really wore me out..." I slightly laughed. "I guess while you're gone I'll try to look up a good beginner's workout plan. Should be plenty to find on the internet." "Dude, that'd be awesome. I can't wait to start." He winked at me. "I'll be back in a bit." He put on his shoes and walked to the door, opened it, and only stopped ever so briefly to look back at me and grin before exiting and shutting the door. 'What the hell just happened?' I wondered to myself. It was fucking great! I just couldn't believe it. I was so very much looking forward to spending more time with Bryan. I wanted to lay in bed with him, and hold him. I wanted to kiss him, with him kissing me back, arms around each other. I wanted our tongues to dance around together while we feel each other all over, our hands exploring everywhere. I wanted to run my hands through his beautiful hair and look into his beautiful eyes. I also wanted to see him flex. Fuck, muscles get me so horny. I mean, I built some of my own, sure, but it wasn't as great as seeing another dude's muscles. I liked to flex for myself. I liked looking into the mirror and flexing my arms, watching my peaks rise into baseballs. I liked flexing and bouncing my pecs, and tensing my abs. I liked to run my hands over them, feeling each brick. I especially liked wearing a tight T-shirt and seeing it wrapped around my torso, with my pecs pushing out and the sleeves completely filled with my arms. I'd get hard appreciating my own body, but nothing compared to seeing another dude flex. That made me harder than anything else. Just watching Bryan workout made me hard as fuck. I wanted to see him flex every muscle he could flex. I wanted him to start with his arms, and flex into a double bicep pose. I wanted to put my hands on each one, and squeeze. Oh fuck that'd be hot. I wanted to see his abs tense up. I wanted to run my fingers between each brick. I wanted to see his quads and his calves bulging. I wanted to run my hands all over his body. Fuck. I was so curious about how he was so confident he'd start gaining muscle. I was excited for it to happen. I couldn't wait to see him come back to the dorm each day after a workout, seeing him all pumped. I wanted him to get bigger and bigger. I was getting hard again thinking about all of this. I decided I should just actually look up some workout plans for him. I should have that done before he gets back. Going to the internet, there was no shortage of possible plans. Most are pretty similar for beginners. I picked one that looked promising for his build. He wasn't too far off from my own build, especially before I started getting bigger, so I picked a plan that was very similar to the one I'd started with. I put it together so it would fit on as few pieces of paper as possible, and kept it organized so it was easy to understand. I printed it out and placed it on his desk. And then I went back to working on the homework I'd tried to start earlier. It was probably about an hour later that Bryan made it back. I got distracted from my homework and wound up catching up on my current Netflix binge. I was laying in bed with my laptop watching Raymond Reddington being a badass when I heard the door open. I glanced toward the door and saw Bryan walk in and shut the door softly behind him. He had his sunglasses on his face still, but once he shut the door he lifted them up so they sat on his head. He looked at me and smiled that smile. "Sup?" He greeted me. He walked to the edge of his own bed and sat down. I smiled back at him, blushing uncontrollably. He was so beautiful. The sun was getting low in the sky, but was still shining enough light into the room that seemed to make him glow. "I got distracted when I was trying to do some homework. Just watching The Blacklist. Oh and I was able to find a workout plan for you. I printed it out and put it on your desk." My laptop continued streaming Netflix. "That's so cool man, I can't wait to get started on growing. Are you excited to see it happen?" Fuck! He had a knack for asking questions that instantly made me start getting hard. "Yeah man, I wanna see you grow. I wanna see you get big and outgrow your clothes." I tried to focus on Netflix so my dick wouldn't harden any further. "You want me to outgrow my clothes?" It was an innocent question; a response to my response. And yet, just the way he asked it made me harden further. I swallowed, and yet my throat was starting to feel dry. I looked at his face, and he had this quizzical look. "Uh, yeah. I want your gains to be enough that you need new clothes. It's a positive thing." "What about if I'm still wearing them? Is that something you'd like? You wanna see me flex an arm and make the sleeve rip?" Fuck, he knew which buttons to press. My dick was fully hard now. And throbbing. "Umm yes, to be honest I'd find that super hot." He grinned. "Cool." I don't know how he was so nonchalant about this whole thing. It made him that much hotter. But then he stood up from his own bed, took his sunglasses off and put them on his desk, and walked right over to mine. Several locks of his hair fell out of place, falling into his face, without the sunglasses holding them where they were. He was still wearing what he was before. He didn't even say anything, he just lay himself down right next to me in my bed and started watching Netflix with me. My face was so red, I could feel it. But it was awesome. I scooted over a bit so he had more room, and he scooted with me. He had his left arm behind his head, and took his right hand and grabbed for my left hand. I felt his fingers entwine with mine, and I felt like I was in heaven. He turned his head and looked at my face, and I turned to look at his. He smiled again, and moved his face closer and kissed me lightly. I hummed softly when his lips touched mine, and I felt my dick throb. He kissed me again, and I felt his hand squeeze mine. He moved his arm from behind his head and put his hand on my chest. Our lips remained locked, and the sounds from my laptop were fading so far into the background that I didn't even hear them anymore. His tongue entered my mouth, and started dancing with my own. I engaged his tongue, dancing with it, fighting for dominance. He took my left hand and brought it to his crotch, and placed my hand on his dick. I felt him through his shorts, and wow. He was hard. And getting harder. I felt him swelling through the fabric, and it was incredible. I wrapped my fingers around his dick as well as I could, and squeezed. I felt him gasp through my lips while we continued to kiss. He was so thick! His dick felt at least as big as mine, maybe bigger. I squeezed him again, and fuck. His dick seemed like it was still growing and getting harder. I wasn't sure, but with his lips on mine, it sort of felt like he smiled. He broke our kiss, and our noses touched. He whispered "It's finally time for us to play." He reached over and grabbed the bottom of my shirt and started pulling it up. I sat up a bit and let him remove my shirt, and he tossed it to the floor. He mouthed 'Wow' again when he looked at my body. My abs and chest were on full display, and I had to admit, I looked pretty fit. I kicked my laptop off to the side so it wasn't in the way, and I grabbed at the bottom of his shirt. He stopped my hands, though, and I looked at him, confused. "No, not yet. My shirt will come off soon enough." He grinned, and it was almost an evil grin. He took my hand and placed it on his crotch again, and his dick was... wow. He was so hard, and he felt so big. He had to be bigger than me down there. He then reached down to his shorts and undid the button and pulled down the zipper. His dick popped right out, and FUCK. It was gorgeous. It was straight as a steel rod, and thick, covered with veins. I also noticed he wasn't wearing any boxers or anything. But I'd say he was bigger than me, he had to be close to 8 inches. It was my turn to say wow. He turned my head towards his face and kissed me again. I grabbed his dick and wrapped my fingers around it, and squeezed. He gasped, and continued kissing me. But then something insanely hot happened. I felt his dick throb, and then my fingers were forced to spread apart. I broke away from his kiss to look down, and his dick had grown even bigger. I heard him snicker. "It's time for some fun," he said. "Wha--?" I couldn't even finish saying the word as his dick throbbed and grew again in my hand. Holy fuck, what was happening? My own dick was so hard and leaking pre. I could feel the wetness in my shorts. "Come on, brah, make me cum." I squeezed his dick, and he moaned. I started jerking him off, sliding my hand up and down his shaft. I moved my face to his and kissed him again, shoving my tongue into his mouth. I was so turned on by all of this and was feeling a little aggressive. I wanted to make him cum, especially after he made me cum harder than I'd ever cum before. He moaned again, with my mouth on his. His lips tasted so good. I squeezed his dick again, and it throbbed hard. Again, it grew in my grasp, spreading my fingers farther apart. "Ah!" he gasped again, and I even moaned some. Feeling his dick pulse and grow was one of the hottest things I've ever experienced. I started jerking him faster. He moaned again, and I knew what I had to do. I broke our kissing, and sat up. He looked up at me, at first with disappointment, and then with intense desire. He also almost looked like he was in pain. "I need to cum, dude! I'm so hard!" "You will... ohhh you will," I replied. I maneuvered myself so my face was closer to his dick. I grabbed it with my hand and squeezed it, then released and brought my lips over the head. Bryan moaned pretty loudly. Just with his head in my mouth, I started licking at the tip. I ran my tongue all over it, circling it. He started to writhe on the bed. I took some more of him into my mouth, and sucked. I sucked him like it was a lollipop, and allowed my tongue to roam all over. He was moaning almost nonstop now, sighing, and breathing hard. I could tell he was really enjoying this, and I wanted him to explode. Then he grunted, and I felt my mouth forced open wider as his dick grew even more. Holy shit. I really hit the jackpot with Bryan, because I'm sure any gay dude out there would kill for a chance to suck a dick that's literally growing bigger and bigger. And not just getting hard. I brought my left hand to his dick and grabbed it at its base and started to jerk him in time with my sucking. He was too big now now matter how much I tried to fit into my throat. Another throb, and my lips were forced wider again. FUCK! How big was his dick gonna get?! "OHHHHHNNNGGGGGG!" He was moaning so loud now, nonstop. "FUUUUUUCK! I'M GONNA CUM! ALEX MAKE ME CUM!" I squeezed him hard with my hand, and sucked hard. He was bucking his hips, fucking my mouth. Another pulse, and his cock grew yet again. My mouth couldn't widen any more. My throat kept swallowing, trying to take in as much of him as possible. I sucked harder than I'd imagined I could, and I used my right hand to start squeezing his hamstrings. "I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING ALEX!" And he was. I felt his dick throb, and it suddenly felt so hot in my mouth. I then felt the first shot hit the back of my throat. FUCK it was powerful, like a jet. "AHH!" He yelled. Then another hard and powerful blast, long and thick. I kept swallowing as each shot erupted, another, and another. Each one was just as powerful as the last, until the 6th shot. It was slightly less forceful, and then the next one was even less. Eventually I'd sucked him dry, and could no longer taste the salty sweetness. I pulled my face away from his crotch and let his dick pop out of my mouth, and holy SHIT. He had to be at least 12 inches long. And still fucking hard! He wasn't even softening! He lay there, panting, unmoving. His eyes were closed but he had that evil grin on his face, and his head tilted back slightly. His hands were gripping the blanket on the bed hard enough that his knuckles were turning white. I saw cords and tendons of his forearms standing out, he was gripping it so hard. "Thanks, Alex. That was the best orgasm I've ever had, brah." "Dude, you are unreal. How are you still hard?" He stayed how he was, still panting, still grinning. I thought for a moment that he didn't even hear me. But then he opened his eyes and looked directly into mine. "You think I'm unreal?" His dick was quivering, and still hard as ever. I was letting my eyes roam over his entire form, and he was so fucking hot. That hair of his was sexy as hell, too. I'd never met a guy whose hair made this much of a difference, but Bryan's surfer hair made me so hot for him. Well... MORE hot for him. He relaxed his hands and released his grip on the blanket, but his forearms maintained their tensed appearance, now with veins protruding from the skin. He started to sit up and put his weight on his elbows. "Yeah... you're unreal. How... just... how did you get your dick to grow like that?!" "Hmph." He grunted out a short laugh. "It's just the beginning, bro." He sat up all the way and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to his side so we were sitting together. He turned his face to mine and kissed me passionately, and then stood up. His huge dick was still sticking out from his open fly of his shorts, which still clung to his hips. What a sight to behold! "What's beginning?" I asked him. He turned and faced me as I sat in front of him. He tilted his head a bit to the side and was looking into my eyes. He wasn't smiling anymore. His face was intense, but otherwise neutral. But then he spoke. "I'm sorry you went to the trouble of finding me a workout plan." "What... Bryan? What do you mean?" "I just wanted this to be a bigger surprise, is all. I wasn't lying when I said I was gonna--unghh--grow." He grunted, and I saw his dick grow about another inch longer, and even thicker. "Holy fuck..." was all I managed to say before the real surprise started. I started to hear a faint stretching noise, and the smile returned to his face. I saw movement, and I noticed his shoulders were spreading. I blinked a few times, and yes, they were broadening, pulling his button-down tighter across his chest. But they weren't just getting wider, I could see them swelling under the fabric, too, becoming rounder and more bulbous. And then I saw his neck starting to thicken, with his traps beginning to rise up. "Dude, this feels so good." The stretching noise was getting louder. He brought his arms up, and his forearms were starting to thicken as well. "This is what you--ahhh--wanted, right?" His chest bulged out when he said that, pushing his shirt out and making the cloth pull at the buttons. His forearms were still getting thicker, but he pulled back his sleeve on his right arm and flexed his bicep. And holy fuck. It swelled into a tennis ball, bigger than it was before. He took his right arm and pulled back the sleeve on his left arm and flexed both at once. "You like this, Alex? I want you to enjoy the show." He winked at me, those beautiful blonde curls bouncing as he moved his head. My dick was throbbing hard. So fucking hard I wish MINE would grow bigger just so it could get harder. "Unnghghh" He groaned, and his arms bulged bigger. They were baseballs now. He started pumping his arms, flexing and unflexing. Each time he flexed again, they were slightly bigger. "Fuck, this feels so good. Come on, growwwwww!" And then I noticed his legs. His calves had begun to swell, forming bulges on his lower legs. They were flexing and unflexing, like his arms, but this seemed involuntary. Each time they flexed they'd grow some more. Soon they were baseballs, too, and still swelling. His dick was starting to leak precum, drooling onto the floor. FUCK. Oh my GOD this was so hot. His arms didn't stop growing, they were starting to get to softball size, right in time with his calves. But then I heard some creaking noise, and noticed his shorts were tight in the thighs. They were skin tight. The material of his shorts was so tight it was straining and squeaking a little, and I couldn't believe how thick his legs had gotten. "Oh fuck." I whispered. My dick felt like it was going to explode. "Yeah, fuck yeah, this is what you like, right? You wanted this to happen, so watch closely." He said it softly, but with a strong amount of authority. He lowered his arms and flexed his quads, hard. And then RIIIIIIP! Both legs of his shorts ripped wide open on the sides, starting in the middle and moving in both directions. The seams split wide open. "FUCK! OH FUCK!!" I wasn't even touching myself and my cock exploded, shooting cum all into my shorts. It was everywhere. I wasn't even touching myself!! The wet spot forming was unmistakable, as Bryan once again made me cum harder than ever before. "OHHHNGGG" I kept shooting into my shorts, and I noticed Bryan had an amused look on his face. My jaw was wide open as I looked into his face. He looked kind of proud of himself. "Dude. I'm not even done yet," Bryan said in a low voice. His own dick was still drooling onto the carpet, forming a small puddle. FUCK his dick looked hot. My dick exhausted itself, but as soon as I looked back up at Bryan, he took his hands and tucked his fingers under the waist. He began pulling the waist of the shorts in opposite directions, his arms bulging into striations and clear tendons, until RIIIIP, the remains of his shorts tore apart, leaving his lower body completely bare. My dick immediately started getting hard again. His quads had gotten huge, and each head of the muscle was visible. His legs were touching together, and he widened his stance a bit. They were still fucking swelling, too. Holy shit. I scanned up his body and noticed something else. His lats were growing. His body was taking on that sexy V shape so many dudes wish they had. And his shirt was getting tight, too. His shirt was starting to pull at the buttons, causing gaps down the front. More stretching noises began emanating from his body as his shoulders widened and grew some more, and his lats continued swelling under the fabric. The shirt was becoming skin tight, and the buttons were struggling. "I think it's the perfect time, don't you?" he asked. My mouth was still hanging open, and it wasn't until it registered within my brain that he'd asked a question that I realized how dry my mouth had become. I had to swallow a couple of times before I could answer him. "Wha... time for what?" He chuckled, and got that evil grin. "Time to make some sleeves rip, BRAH!" My dick throbbed hard in my shorts as I realized what was about to happen. And that surfer persona he had was so fucking sexy. I glanced at his arms and wow, they had gotten really thick. The sleeves were skin tight around his upper arms now, and perfectly midway so the edges were right on the highest points of his biceps. He slowly brought his arms up, raising them carefully, until they were straight out from his body and parallel to the floor. He clenched his hands into fists, and then immediately brought his arms into a mind-boggling double-bicep pose. His arms exploded with size, easily surpassing softballs, and the sleeves shredded all the way past his shoulders. "AH FUCK!" I shouted as my balls purged themselves of cum once more, adding to the mess already in my shorts. "Ahh! AHH!" I yelled with each spurt. FUCK! My balls had an endless supply of cum for this dude! I never took my eyes off him, though. He laughed at me, I assume for blowing yet another load. Then he looked like he was taking a deep breath, but I realized his pecs were swelling again, and his lats were still growing. "Fuuuck yeah, Alex. Here we go." He flexed his pecs, and POP POP POP his top three buttons snapped off, flying across the room in different directions. The cloth separated and I could see his enormous chest, huge and defined with amazing striations. Then another POP as the next button popped off. "Fuck waiting!" He grabbed his shirt and ripped it apart, allowing it to fall to the floor in two halves. HOLY FUCK. "Ohhhhhwwwahhh" I tried to say the words but that garbled groan was all I managed to say. He was a god. Standing before me was an actual god. His chest was huge, his abs had become an 8 pack of super defined and pronounced perfectly rectangular bricks, and his lats made him look like he had wings. There were his legs; tree trunks bigger than my waist and calves bigger than melons. And then of course there was his huge dick, still standing hard as a fucking steel rod and leaking pre onto an ever increasing puddle on the carpet. And of course, my favorite muscles, his arms. They were gigantic. Covered in veins, his arms were huge and sexy as fuck. He had stopped growing at this point. My shorts were all wet and sticky, my dick was throbbing hard again, and my mouth was hanging open, practically drooling, as I stared at the specimen before me. I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or hallucinating, but I was becoming convinced that none of this was real. He kept that grin on his face, and started flexing his huge arms, gazing at them lovingly. He would run his fingers over their peaks, prodding them. And then he looked directly at me, into my eyes. "Told ya I was gonna grow for you. How into me are you now?" He chuckled with that question. He grabbed a hair tie from his dresser and pulled his locks up onto his head, and in raising his arms to do so, he made sure to flex his arms, making me drool. He tied it so it sat there like a pile of curly golden hair. "Well?" He asked. I felt paralyzed. I'd never in my wildest fantasies imagined this type of scenario, and yet it was a dream come true. "Hmmm, I'm gonna go ahead and say: you like. The drool hanging from your mouth is all I need for confirmation," he laughed. He flexed his pecs, and ran his fingers over them. He stepped toward me, and grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. FUCK! He'd gotten taller, too. He was shorter than me, and now he was at least 3 inches taller. "Let me make you more comfortable, dude." He put his hand into the waistband of my shorts and ripped them right off. My dick sprang up, hard as ever. After cumming so much today, I couldn't believe it was so hard. "That better? No more soggy shorts." I nodded in agreement. He placed his hands on both sides of my face and kissed me. "Relax dude! You're too tense!" He took my hand and placed it on his chest. Holy shit! His chest was hard as steel. So warm, and just so goddamn hard. And then he guided my hand to his bicep. He flexed it, and it bulged up huge. FUCK! His arm was a fucking mountain! "Oh my god Bryan," I finally managed to say. "You're fucking huge. Just... How? How?!" My dick ached. "My body can grow from the right sexual stimulation, as long as it's from the right person. The day I met you, I knew you were the right dude, too. I never knew how to bring any of this up, or even if you were gay, but when you finally said something after all this time, I decided to have some fun with it." He smiled. My hand remained on his bicep, and I didn't wanna move it. The warm stone under my hand was amazing to touch. I took my other hand and ran it over his abs. I felt him shudder as I did so. His dick was still rock hard, standing out, drooling pre. I reached down and grabbed it. "Ohhhhhnnnngyeah" he moaned. Then he grabbed my dick with his strong hand. His forearm rippled with muscle. I damn near came again. What he said next, though, made me want to pass out. "We haven't even had sex yet, and I've still got some growin' to do, bruh." Part 2

Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend Chapter 20 Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 February 10th, 2022 2050 Hours Alvarez, already shirtless and oiling himself up, answered the knock on his door. Naturally, it was Lang. “Right on time. Come on in,” he said. Lang came in, babbling with his usual over-the-top excitement that preceded every Pose and Approve session. “So what do you think the brass thought?” he asked eagerly as he pulled off his t-shirt. Alvarez tossed a bottle of heated mineral oil to his buddy, who uncapped it and began to smear oil onto his muscles as well. “Did you see that old Admiral Whatsisname? Jesus, he looked awesomely p i s s e d o f f, man! And what about all those other dudes? Didja hear them? Didja hear them groaning?? Dude! D’ya think they all creamed their pants?” “Of course they did. They always do. It’s the guaranteed effect.” Alvarez sighed, oiling his triceps, shaking his head. "It's why we're here, man. It's the only reason." Lang laughed excitedly, working the oil into his muscles. “Man, those dudes ain’t never seen muscle like ours before, right? Right?” He flexed powerful biceps and nodded into one of the room’s full-length mirrors with a frowning sneer. “Asshole dudes never seen guns like these, right? pow! bam!!” “Oh, shut the fuck up,” muttered Alvarez. Lang stared. He was suddenly quiet. Alvarez continued to oil himself up. He looked worried. “What’d I say, dude?” Lang asked plaintively, his arms outstretched. Alvarez walked over to him and stood nose to nose before him, the bulges in Alvarez’s jeans and Lang’s posers just touching. He reached around Lang to the back of his head and, guiding his face close, planted a deep kiss onto his perfect lips. He worked his tongue into Lang’s mouth, who responded deeply. Then he pulled back and gazed long and hard into Lang’s deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry. Forget them,” he said reassuringly. “Let’s pose.” “Yeah! Pose and approve!” shouted Lang, and then giggled apologetically, clamping his hand over his mouth in response to Alvarez’s stern look. “Shut up. We don’t want everyone in here.” “Sorry, dude.” “Tonight is just us.” “Sorry, dude! Let’s rock!” Both turned and looked at their reflection in Alvarez’s three-paneled mirror. Excepting Alvarez’s mustache, the two powerful musclemen were almost exact duplicates of one another: tall, dark, and handsome, with deep brown eyes, taut cheekbones and shiny black hair. Their ripped, 285-pound physiques were perfect symphonies of bulging muscle. Lang nodded and forgot all about the brass. He did a crab crunch into the mirror. “Freakkkkyyy…” he muttered. “Swole. So swole.” His veins exploded with throbbing power. Alvarez was undoing his belt, unzipping his zipper, working his tight jeans gradually down his ripped quads. “Pose and approve time, man,” he said to Lang. “Pose and approve.” He picked up a remote and lowered the room’s lights, bringing up the glare of the overhead spotlight focused on the 15' posing dais in front of the mirrors. “Yeah, man, let’s get to it!” Lang ripped off his clothes and stepped up onto the dais as Alvarez kicked away his jeans. Both men were now only barely covered with skimpy royal blue competition posing trunks with hundreds of bright spangles sewn onto the extra-large pouches. The spangles caught the light and glistened like small sapphires. Alvarez stood before him. “You go first.” For an instant, Lang was honored to be going first, as the unspoken law between them during their nightly mutual muscle worship sessions was that Alvarez always got to pose before he did. Tonight was apparently different; even so, Lang was instantly caught up in the sheer joy of his own reflection of muscular near-perfection, and he forgot it right away. The muscleman stood quietly, his heavy arms around his back, his hands clasped. He waited. His ripped abs seemed to extend forever, cobbled fatless bricks laced with thick veins. His cock poled out in his posers. But still he waited. Alvarez was always in charge of Pose and Approve. “Go.” “I’m fucking ….. awesummmmm…..” Lang moaned, loving himself. He slowly curled his huge body into a side biceps pose and turned his head to cockily grin at his reflection. Then he glanced uncertainly at Alvarez in the mirror. “Talk to me,” he demanded, but Alvarez knew he was really begging. “Tell me I’m huge.” Alvarez was not about to let him down. “Yeah, you’re huge, man,” whispered Alvarez with warm smoothness, and he shifted his weight, smoothing the small pools of oil onto his delts. “Those guns of yours look to be about 23 inches. Check out your fist. Motherfucking huge. You could seriously do some serious bare knuckle damage with a fist like that.” His muscles were now gleaming with oil. Lang laughed joyfully. “I have, man! I’ve cleared a few barrooms in my day!” “Punching out ba-a-a-d dudes with those fists?” “Yeah, punching out the bad dudes! Check out these veins, man! They’re like super highways, man! Pumping, buddy. Pumpin’ it up for ya, man.” Lang pumped and flexed. Alvarez capped the bottle, set it down, and turned back, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, yeah, man. That’s good. Nice. Big old motherfucking biceps. Flex those guns for me, man.” “I’m flexing these guns for ya, bro. BOOM. Big muscle in the house,” he cried out joyfully. “Yeah, I see you, man. Nice. Nice big muscles. Biggest muscleman on earth, man.” “’Cept for you, bro. You’re bigger,” said Lang. Alvarez stepped onto the dais under the spotlight, and standing between Lang and the mirror, smoothed hot oil onto Lang’s glistening pecs, stroking his muscles appreciatively. They stood nose-to-nose, not six inches apart. Lang flexed powerful biceps. “Don’t know about that.” Alvarez smoothly applied oil to the granite softballs of Lang’s peaks. Lang stared at himself, transfixed. In his posing trunks his heavy cock was already pointing straight ahead. Alvarez clapped Lang’s huge biceps in his palms. “Like fucking rocks.” “Yeah, man, like fucking boulders, I know. Feel ‘em, man. Feel my muscles.” His eyes took in the mirror reflection of Alvarez’s awesome glutes. “I’m there, man, doing your muscles for you, man.” Alvarez licked his pecs, kissed each bulging biceps, and lightly bit Lang’s nipples. Then he knelt, leaned in and whispered again, his face now level to Lang’s bulging crotch. His breath softly exploded onto Lang’s stiffening cockshaft appearing as his posing trunks poled heavily outward. “You’re big, man. Real big.” “I’m big, hunh?” asked Lang. Now that Alvarez was on his knees and not blocking his upper body reflection, he was gazing at himself with hypnotic eagerness. “Motherfucking huge muscleman, dude.” Lang could feel Alvarez’s breath lightly exploding onto his junk. Still, he never looked away from his own reflection. “So reward me, man. Reward me for my muscles. Reward me for this pose.” “You got it, man. Here comes your reward.” “Thanks, bro,” purred Lang, gazing now in rapture at the pointing peaks of his biceps, his tongue slightly hanging out. His buddy approved. He was in heaven. He’d taken first place in the show running in his head. He and his buddy. “Just keep posing, man.” Alvarez gently opened his mouth and tenderly began to suck Lang’s big cock through his posing trunks. Lang glided into his next pose, a side-chest. And then a front lat spread. His pelvis pushed forward. His poser straining with cock. The pose and approve ritual always began with each man wearing his posing trunks for as long as he could manage to keep them on. They mentally pictured themselves on a competition stage, posing for overwhelmed judges and an audience of thousands of screaming fans, while under the lights, they were really posing only for each other, taking turns kneeling and occasionally bending and sucking each other’s erect cocks through their trunks. They fantasized no one else would be allowed to touch them. They’d turn and punch the lights out of anyone who dared. But the reality was that anyone who wanted to suck their cocks could do so. With just a little begging. After all, big musclemen deserve to get their cocks sucked. Now Alvarez was licking the bobbing cockhead through the straining cloth, running his tongue up and down Lang’s piss slit. Then he deep-throated him, holding the giant cock tenderly in his warm mouth. He held it for 30 seconds. Above him, Lang gulped and continued to pose. Then Alvarez slowly slid his lips off the big dick. The bulging fabric of the bursting poser was wet with saliva. He looked up and winked at the grateful Lang. “Big musclemen like you work hard,” he said with a quiet smile. “You pump those awesome muscles into unbelievable size. When you flex those muscles, it’s mind-blowing. You deserve a reward for all that hard work. You deserve to get your big cock sucked.” “Thanks, man.” “Don’t mention it, bro.” Alvarez ran his hands smoothly up and down Lang’s obliques, smacking his firm sides. He nodded, then looked up. “You got a lat spread you want to show me, man?” He licked his buddy’s abs and waited. “Comin’ up, “Lang breathed, and with a small explosion of breath, he grabbed the straps of his posers, pulled them taut, planted his fists into his obliques, and pumped his rocky pecs into their full mass. He spread his legs wide, the pouch of his posing trunks bulging forward with his fully erect 10-inch penis. Alvarez, still licking the washboard abs, stroked the cock with his thick fingers, glanced up and nodded. “Good lat spread. Great pecs. Lemme see you bounce ‘em. Show me, now.” “Okay.” Lang began to bounce his flexing pecs back and forth in dance of perfect machine gun muscle rhythm. “Yeah, man. Doin’ some serious pec dancing for you now. Boom. Boom. Boom. Watch ‘em, now. Watch these pecs of mine do their thing.” “Do that pec dance thing for me, baby,” said Alvarez. He watched Lang’s bouncing pecs for a full minute. Then he leaned in and licked the cockhead, again through the posers. “I approve. Here’s your reward.” Alvarez once again opened his mouth wide, and with a quick fleck of his tongue against his lips, took the bulging pouch of Lang’s posers full down his throat. Lang, his pecs still dancing, began to slowly pump his hips, fucking face. Bursts of warm precum began to stain the poser fabric, blooming into a widening pool of moisture. Alvarez could see the giant slit of Lang’s big penis head, and licked respectfully. After a minute, he released another small explosion of breath to signify to the bodybuilder kneeling before him that he was going to change his pose again. “Front double biceps,” he announced, and swung his arms up into mighty peaks. Alvarez pulled back slightly, licked the cockhead again, and rocked back on his heels. In his own posing trunks his cock was now full 11 inches erect and poling above the waistband, slap tight against his abs. “Lookin’ good. Now hold that for two minutes. No, three. Hold that pose solid without moving for three minutes. Then you’ll get your reward.” It was agony. Lang loved it. He fiercely held the mountainous peaks of his 23-inch biceps for three full minutes. Sweat began pouring down his face. “Flexing for ya, man!” He bared his lips and gritted his teeth into a grimace. His veins exploded down his neck. The veins in his forearms were like cables of steel wire. He raised one biceps, then the other, again dancing them back and forth. The baseball peaks of his guns gleamed in the spotlight. On his knees before him, Alvarez gazed up worshipfully, pumping his own cock right out of his posing trunks, but not touching Lang. “It’s been more than three minutes,” Lang finally said through his gritted teeth. “So reward me, man! Suck my cock, man!” “Think you deserve a reward?” Alvarez teased, now stroking Lang’s cock tenderly with his tongue. “For these guns? You bet, baby. Take that big cock of mine down your throat now!” “You got it, man.” Alvarez fell forward onto his knees again, his mouth wide open, and landed bulls-eye onto the giant pole bursting in Lang’s posing trunks, taking it all into his mouth. For three minutes, he sucked cock, up and down, licking, spitting, back and forth, deep sucking. Lang gazed down at him, relaxed his biceps a few seconds, and then resumed the pose. He was rock hard. “Dig these guns, man, and suck my cock. Suck your approval. Pose and approve me. Pose and approve.” “Yeah, you like it when I suck your cock while you’re posing?” breathed Alvarez. He licked the mammoth bulge in Lang’s posing trunks. “I can see you onstage, man. Flexing for all those asshole judges. Blowing them all away. Never seen biceps as big as yours. Never seen a cock as big as yours. Poling out in your posing trunks. Big old heavy bulge. Big cocks need to get sucked.” “Yeah? Well, man, I like it when you suck my cock. I like it when you suck my cock while I’m posing for those assholes.” Greedily, Alvarez licked the cloth covering Lang’s heavy testicles. “Lickin’ your balls now, man, licking your balls.” “Put ‘em in your mouth, man. Put my balls in your mouth.” Still flexing, he looked down and eyed Alvarez’s cock hungrily. Alvarez was pumping it now with both hands. It looked like a firehose. Suddenly Lang wanted to suck it. But he didn’t want Alvarez to stop. He dropped to his knees. Alvarez lowered with him, knowing what he wanted. As he watched, Lang flexed his right biceps one more time; Alvarez nodded approval; then Lang leaned in to Alvarez’s cock. He pulled the posing trunks over the cockhead onto Alvarez’s balls, and brought it into his mouth. Alvarez kept sucking. Together the two bodybuilders slowly lowered their huge bodies onto the posing dais under the spotlight and began to service each other with a full-body 69 grapple. Their arm muscles rippled against each other as each man gripped the other’s hard glutes, thick fingers gripping slabs of butt muscle. Each man ecstatically sucked his muscle buddy’s gigantic rod, their balls both still barely covered by their straining posing trunks. After 18 minutes of violent 69 sucking, their posing trunks finally tore from the strain. Rrr-i-i-i-i-pp! Their bullish balls burst free in unison, and each man eagerly licked the other’s heavy testicles passionately. “Next time, you pose first,” whispered Lang, and Alvarez looked over at him, grinned, and flexed a biceps. Lang nodded seriously. “I approve,” he said, “now here’s your reward,” and he bent in, sucking cock. The slurping, moaning, sucking sounds echoed down the corridor. In his room, Private Chris Hension, lying naked in bed, covered with sweat, his pole rising stiffly towards the ceiling, finally couldn’t take it any more. He jumped out of bed, grabbed a robe and a pair of purple spangly posers, stepped into them, fitting his huge member into the pouch with some difficulty, and tore out of his room. He ran down the hallway, his half-tumescent, half-sheathed cock waggling in the breeze, and stopped at Alvarez’s door. He waited an instant – and was about to knock – but, what the hell. He banged on the door, threw it open, and walked in. He knew it would be unlocked. Somehow instinctively he knew they were waiting for him. And so they were. The two musclemen lay on the dais, sucking each other’s cocks, their mammoth physiques coated with a glistening layer of sweat. Without removing dick from mouth, each man slowed for a moment and gazed up at Hension questioningly. “Were we making too much noise?” asked Alvarez, his speech garbled by Lang’s cock. “Yeah. I’d say,” said Hension. He threw his robe to the floor and stood before them in his favorite posing strap, his own erection poling straight ahead. He slammed the door behind him and stepped forward, whipping his arms up into a front double biceps. “Check me out,” he commanded, but there was a note of hopefulness in his voice. Of desperation, Alvarez quietly noted to himself. Good, good, all to the good. “Damn. He’s a pretty little muscleboy, ain’t he?” said Alvarez, momentarily releasing Lang’s cock. “He sure is,” said Lang, doing the same. “You see me every day, guys. I ain’t so little,” said Hension, flexing. “Maybe we’ve never noticed you before.” “Fuck you both.” “Oh, sorry. Maybe you should leave?” “NO! I wanna play too!” Hension flexed feverishly. “Okay. We’ll think about it.” Alvarez licked Lang’s dick a few times and lolled his head back towards Hension. Lang, however, appeared to take no more interest, turning his full attention to sucking his buddy’s dick. He bent in and deep-throated Alvarez’s stiff penis a few times, gagging slightly, and then resumed his gentle, steady sucking and licking. “You sure are pretty. Big biceps. Big. Good quads. Turn around.” Hension turned around, did a rear lat spread, pointing his shapely round glutes to the ceiling. “Nice. Awesome hams. Lang, you see those hams?” …..Suck suck suck suck suck…. “No? Hmmm. Guess he’s busy. Come on over here and flex for us while we suck some cock.” And Alvarez turned back to Lang’s quivering member, appearing indifferent. “I’ll show you guys,” muttered Hension, stepping onto the dais. He was ready. He’d been waiting a long time for this. And he’d been kidded, slapped, punched, and pushed around too long to not grab the moment. His moment. “I’m gonna flex now, and you’re gonna watch me!” he shouted. From the floor of the dais, Alvarez and Lang turned and looked up at him. There was a pause. “So go ahead,” said Alvarez. “Let’s see what you got.” He paused. “Boy,” he added.

Catch up: Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in penis size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, innocent, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable appetite to receive muscle worship. Casey's simplicity, and his ever-growing need to receive equal doses of both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Links to previous chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. Chapter 13: After the Match Casey lay on the wrestling mat, completely spent. His eye was swollen – he’d have a nice shiner tomorrow. His huge, tired muscles gleamed oily red with sweat and scratch and pressure marks from the match. Casey dripped with splotches of oil mixed with muscle cum. Lakes of cum oozed into the oil, painting his raw, vascular physique a creamy, drippy, white, gathering in little lakes in the deep cobblestones of his abs, rolling in thick tides down his lats and onto the mat. “What the fuck?” he asked plaintively. “What kinda place IS this?” He sniffed the air. Cum. Everything smelled of cum. Around and above him the men were zipping up, putting their cocks away, retrieving sweaty, torn clothing. Karim Abdul, the vanquished muscle monster, lay to his left. Enraged, cum-coated, growling. “I’ll get you, kid,” he threatened. He stood, rivulets of cum flowing down from his face onto his massive traps. He started off. He stopped when he got to Blankenship. Blankenship grinned toothily. It didn’t last long. POW!!! Blankenship flew about 20 feet into the air from the force of Abdul’s uppercut punch, his feet never touching the ground. A tooth, suddenly without a home, landed beside him. Out cold. “Where you going, Corporal?” Moster demanded, stuffing his massive, dripping cock back into his pants and zipping up with some difficulty over the bulge. Abdul ignored him, stalking out the room. "Come on, Pedro," he barked to the pretty little kitchen boy, who scampered eagerly after him. “Someone get Blankenship and put him to bed.” Moster sighed, knowing that the muscleman would demand a match of his own the next day. And on it would go, until he was forced once again into public bare-butt spankings to keep them in line. Funny how they’d deck one another but submit meekly to hard paddling on their razor sharp glutes. The men stared a little – though all had seen Moster’s cock before – in fact, all the men had at various points sucked it dry, and had their own faces coated with the steady, unrelenting stream of ropey gism that shot from his deep piss slit. But no one could remember a group scene quite like what had just occurred. Abdul stalked off to the showers, Schumacher and Obatu bent to pick up a groggy, moaning Blankenship. Moster took his clipboard to a desk in the corner of the wrestling room and lowered his rockhard muscle butt into the swivel chair, which sagged and groaned under his mass. Corporal Alvarez and Private Lang, who had called Casey a motherfucker, but somehow managed to make it sound good, turned to check out the new muscle kid last time as they passed through the door back to their quarters, where they planned to fuck butt all night. They knew Moster wouldn’t be paying attention. Not tonight. Casey caught their look, and they nodded briefly at him. Lang gave him a half smile. Then he winked. And then they were both gone. Schumacher didn’t leave right away, though. He handed Blankenship over to LeFevre and stood back, watching like a hawk as the others filed out. Then he walked boldly right up to Casey. He looked up at him. “Sergeant Moster has another little honorary initiation ritual on that I think you may find both interesting and rewarding.” He smiled. “We’d like the opportunity to take you through it tomorrow.” “I - I’ll be honored to be a part of it.” “Yes, you will.” “Get out of here, Schumacher,” said Moster with good-natured gruffness. Schumacher looked blankly at Moster, who hadn’t even looked up from his notes. “And it won’t be tomorrow. It won’t be any time soon.” He looked up. “For Casey, that is. However, I’d be happy to accommodate you at any time.” His hand twitched and Schumacher instinctively shot a hand down to protect his glutes. “Yes, sir.” Schumacher left the lab. “Sorry about that, Casey,” said Moster, as soon as he was gone. “Corporal Schumacher gets a bit riled over anything having to do with Private Tiffany. They all have their quirks. You’ll adjust. Those last two men? They were Private Robert Lang and Corporal Julio Alvarez. Those two specimens were brought into the facility only a year ago. Others have come, but not everyone makes it through, and if they fail, then Zaftig releases them back into the general population. In fact, only 1 in 50 make it as far as you have. Now, drop your posers. It’s time I inspected your penis more closely.” Casey slightly rolled his eyes. “Again, sir?” “I’m not going to say it twice.” Casey nodded, resigned. He understood. It was about his penis, after all. Not his muscles. His dong. His wang. His rod. His cock. His huge motherfucking penis. It was always about his huge motherfucking penis. Moster was watching him steadily, his eyes narrowing. “Is there a problem, cadet?” he asked quietly, after a moment. “No problem, at all, sir.” He slipped his fingers into the elastic band of his torn, micro posing trunks and pulled it out from his body, and slid it down over his quads. Pop….. Smack! His giant penis poured out and slapped down onto his quads just above his knees. Immediately it stiffened slightly. The bell-like cock head bobbed forward once or twice, and the pulsing veins in the shaft began to throb a little more rapidly. Casey was breathing hard now. He was beet red with embarrassment. Moster never stopped looking him in the eye. He strode forward and grabbed hold of his thick penis in his left hand, squeezing the shaft lightly. Casey’s eyes widened in profound surprise. It grew hard in the palm of his hand. His palm glided up and down the warm steely rod 2, 3 times, very slowly. It grew under his hand. “Impressive. How big is this machine of yours?” He stroked it with his fingers. “I see you didn’t cum during the match." He began to rub his heavy hands with practiced movements up and down the boy’s thick shaft. “I – I don’t know, sir.” Casey had begun to sweat. Moster remained cool. “No, I didn’t shoot.” He shuffled from side to side, and his penis slipped out of Moster’s palm. Moster looked up. He took hold of the cock firmly once again. “You seem agitated. You badly need some additional training. Part of what marks this troop is their ability to restrain their emotional responses. And it seems to me your cock is responding emotionally.” Moster continued to stroke Casey’s machine vigorously. “So since we’re going in that general direction, let’s take a few additional measurements. Private Tiffany!” he suddenly called out towards the open corridor door. No response, but Casey made out a figure in the darkened shadows of the corridor. “Private Joe Tiffany. I know you’re out there. Step in here now, Private.” Tiffany appeared in the doorway. The young bodybuilder had removed his t-shirt and stood stripped to the waist. His ripped muscles gleamed in the fluorescent light. He entered the lab and walked bow-legged, a coiled cobra, towards the two musclemen in the center of the room. “Take some additional measurements, Tiffany. You know what I am referring to.” Tiffany smiled. “Yes, sir, I know.” He approached Casey. Looking him squarely in the eyes, he knelt with business-like efficiency before him. When his eyes were level with Casey’s member, he looked squarely at it. “What is the diameter, Private Tiffany?” Moster reached again for the clipboard, all business. Tiffany opened his smiling mouth wide and moved towards Casey’s cock. Casey nearly jumped out of his skin. “What’s he doing?!” “Private Tiffany has an unusual talent. It’s like having perfect pitch. He can take exact measurements with his mouth. He’s never off by more than 1/64th of an inch. Go for it, Private. Enjoy yourself, Casey.” “Flex for me, dude,” cajoled Tiffany sweetly, his mouth hovering just above the head of Casey’s enormous penis. “Come on, man, let’s see those big rocky peaks.” He flicked his tongue out and lightly touched the corona. “Sir…” Casey started to say. “Cadet Rockland, Project Herculaneum soldiers do as they’re told. Private Tiffany will now suck your cock. If you have a problem with this, speak up now. We administer regular oral-stimulation sessions here at Valhalla Labs.” “But ….it’s so gay, sir.” Tiffany snickered. “You’re standing there covered with oil and cum and you’re complaining about this being gay?” Moster stepped forward and spoke evenly. “That’s enough, Tiffany,” Tiffany immediately shut up. Moster turned to Casey. “Muscle is its own sex. Some have posited over the years that sex is bad for bodybuilders. We know better here. Cocksucking is not only pleasurable, it stimulates the psyche. It clears out problems with the prostate. Done regularly and properly it enhances semen production. It sharpens the animal instincts, to say nothing of increasing testosterone production. It also serves to further bond the men.” “You mean everyone sucks dick here.” “Everyone who wants to remain in The Project get their cocks sucked. Not only that, they are expected to suck cocks themselves. Regularly. Is there an issue? Are you frightened?” “No….I…..what if he bites me?” Tiffany gave him a lopsided smile, which he meant to be charming. “I never bite too hard,” he said. “I assure you Private Tiffany knows what he is doing. Proceed, Private.” “Okay…..” said Casey, bewildered. “Let’s see those guns, cadet,” said Tiffany. Slowly, as if hypnotized, Casey raised his arms up into front double biceps. Joe Tiffany smiled like a little boy in a candy store. He flicked a little river of cum that followed a thick vein from the cannonball right biceps to the tri’s. Then he squatted on his handsome haunches. He glanced at the mammoth machine that hung before him, and spoke out of the side of his mouth. “This looks like a real jaw-breaker, sir.” “You’ve worked with mine. It’s far bigger. Get to work,” Sergeant Moster commanded, clipboard ready. “Yes, sir. Anything for the good old USA, sir.” Tiffany fingered his Adam’s apple. “Gotta limber up.” He opened his mouth as wide as he could, yawning it four or five times, retracting his teeth behind his lips. He pressed his palm to his jaw and tilted his head, then raised his hands and gently pried his own mouth open to its fullest expanse. He licked his lips until they dripped with spit. Casey watched him intently, still flexing his biceps. His brain was burning. Tiffany approached Casey’s fully erect manhood, gently guided it up to his mouth, parted his lips slightly, and tenderly extended his tongue to lightly flick the big cock head. Flick. Flick. Flick. Casey blinked. Tiffany ran his tongue along the piss slit and probed a little inside. He looked up again. “What’s your preliminary estimate, Private?” “I’d say it looks to be between 14 and 14 -1/2 inches in length, sir.” “Very good. Girth? “9 inches at least.” “Confirm it, please.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany leaned in and oh so softly glided his lips smoothly over the head of Casey’s penis. He closed his mouth and gently held firm. He closed his eyes, as if concentrating. Inside his mouth, his tongue methodically caressed the cock head. Casey was blown away. He stared down at the cocky short muscleman whose mouth was now enveloping the head of his penis. No one had ever sucked his cock before, let alone a man, let alone a muscleman. He gulped. Shit, Casey thought. Shit. I’m gonna cum. “Sir, I’m gonna cum, sir!” he blurted out. “Not yet you’re not. No man in my outfit cums in 5 seconds. Control yourself, cadet. Tiffany, what’s your first assessment? How big is this cadet’s cock?” Tiffany, his mouth full of cockhead, tried to respond. He couldn’t. Even he was surprised at the girth of Casey’s member. “MMgghblrb,” he said. “Gaaggg…mmmmhyrpphhhglub……aaaaackk…” “I can’t understand you when you mumble, damn it. Speak plainly, Private.” Tiffany pulled back for a moment, giving the head a final appreciative lick as it popped out of his mouth. “Yes, sir!” He reported, “The corona, I’d say, has a circumference of 10 and 3/8s inches. That sound about right to you, boy?” he asked wickedly. “I…I dunno…” Casey was baffled. What's a corona? Did he mean his cock head? One thing was sure: he was gonna get this guy. He wants to suck my cock, does he? Okay, then. “Now for the shaft.” He smiled again and whispered up to Casey. “This is the fun part,” he said. “Go for it, faggot.” Casey muttered. Tiffany raised an amused eyebrow, then winked at him and plunged forward, his mouth taking in all of Casey’s massive organ. His lips slid easily over the thick shaft, and somehow – by an instinctive rearrangement of tonsils? and a replacement of his soft palate? his mouth glided smoothly down the full length of the erect penis. When he reached the base, once again he stopped. Inside his mouth his tongue stroked the thick, pulsing cock veins. The penis grew stiffer and began to throb insistently inside Tiffany’s mouth. Tiffany sucked Casey’s cock. Back and forth, up and down, tip to base, his lips glided smoothly over the engorged shaft. Threads of thick glistening saliva appeared along the pulsing veins with each plunge. After 10 deep sucks, 5 very appreciative full-length licks, and a little tongue-and-balls-dancing, he pulled back again a moment, and, his eyes dancing merrily up at Casey, he coated the heavy, hairy testicles three or four final times. “Very nice,” he whispered. “Too bad you’ll have to shave these babies.” Okay, thought Casey. Maybe this guy was an asshole, but he was beginning to enjoy this. Something came alive inside him for the first time in his life. Hey, he thought, I really like this. This feels really good. “How do you like it, cadet?” asked Moster, clearly amused. “I like it fine, sir.” Casey managed to get out. “Private Tiffany, resume sucking.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany went back to work. He sucked deeply five more times, and then pulled back for what he thought was a final time. As Casey’s penis rolled out of his mouth, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He turned to Moster, ready to report. “The shaft circumference is unusually thick. I’d put at just over 9 inches. Length of the erect penis, 14 -1/4 inches from base to tip. Weight, maybe 7 pounds, a few ounces? Give or take.” “Your overall assessment?” Casey was staring, excited beyond words, and getting mad as hell. Why had he stopped? This was just getting good. His erect member lobbed back and forth in the air, protesting, next to Tiffany’s left ear, who had turned to face Moster. Tiffany felt the wind of it as it passed, and studied ignored the whooshing sounds. “Definitely a superior organ. I sense he has not used it much in sport yet, aside from masturbating, but I’d also guess he has to masturbate 4 or 5 times a day. Maybe more. There’s a lot of blood pumping here, and it throbs steadily throughout the sucking process. I’d guess this cock hasn’t been sucked very often before, if ever.” “That’s all you know,” said Casey. “Seems unlikely that such a big muscleboy hasn’t found suitable candidates eager to give him regular blowjobs. There’s lots of men out there who like to suck bodybuilder cock. I suppose women, too. Still, Zaftig said this boy is different. All right, then. You’re done for now. Dismissed. Back to your quarters.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany got up and winked at Casey, wiping his mouth. “See you later,” he said smugly, and sauntered out of the room. Casey stood trembling. “Do you need to shoot, Cadet?” asked Moster, all business. “Yes, sir, I’m afraid I do, sir.” “Get to it, then.” Moster walked casually over to the main table of the lab, put down the clipboard, and surreptitiously picked up a 2-quart beaker. He approached Casey. Casey grabbed his engorged cock with both hands. His body shuddered. He was about to let loose with a mighty blast of gism. Moster was prepared. He strode forward and grabbed Casey’s cock, and in the moment he exploded, he had the beaker ready. He calmly forced the beaker over the cockhead. Casey was stunned, but couldn’t stop his semen from bursting into the jar. “UUUUNNNNGHHH!” he shouted, and his cum flowed heavily out of his shooting dick and began to fill the container with its milky white thick fluid. “UUUUUUUUNNNNNGGGGHHHHHHHHH!! uuunnnggHHHGGHH!!! YEAH! OH GOD YEAH MAN!” As Casey’s huge body shuddered with spurt after spurt, the cum level climbed, half filling the jar. “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhUNHHH ARRRRGGGGGG hhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhh……” Three minutes later, with a last huge shrug, he was done. As he shuddered to a finish, Moster corked the beaker and held it aloft. He swirled the thick liquid in each and smiled. “Not bad, cadet,” he said calmly. “Close to a pint. Pretty good for a first shot. You’ll do better later.” Casey was meek and baffled and embarrassed. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Dismissed. We’ll see you at the gym tomorrow at 0700 hours. Get some sleep, Casey. Good night.” He turned and marched out of the room. Casey wiped his dripping dick with the back of his hand. He picked up his clothes and dressed quickly, forcing his still-hard cock into his shorts. But he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. “Shit,” he said. He stood alone in the center of the room, his ripped posing trunks stretched around his ankles, the pole of his mammoth cock weaving out of control in the air. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. He was going to shoot again. He grabbed his cock with both hands, and fired towards the ceiling. “UUUUNNNNNGGGGHHHH!” he shouted, and, as ropes of semen began once again to fly into the air, hitting the ceiling, painting the walls, and splashing onto the ground. As his cum shot out of his enormous cock head, he was thinking feverishly. He remembered the cum on Abdul’s handsome Arab face. And he had been accepted into The Nineteen. Would they now be known as The Twenty? Casey knew it to be true. He could now be considered one of the world’s finest bodybuilders, if Project Herculaneum wasn’t so top-secret, and he wasn’t even 20 years old yet. He was powerful. He had a future. He had promised. He was in the elite. The last of his cum geyser shot into the air, arced, and splashed heavily on the sopping marley floor beneath him. His shoulders slumped and he dropped his hands to his sides. So why was he still bothered by something he couldn’t quite figure out? And how come that evil little muscle boy Joe Tiffany looked so familiar to him. Who was he? And why couldn’t he put his finger on it? Casey bent to put what was left of his ripped and shredded posing trunks back on. They barely covered his cock, but he didn’t notice. He waddled to the door of the wrestling room to head back to his quarters for the night. Tomorrow he would move into his new room. He had a lot to think about. He’d have to think about it all.

Author note: This is my first story. Any similarities to any other stories are coincidental. Feedback appreciated. The last time Gus saw Tyler they were in middle school. Tyler was tall, confident, and athletic even back then. Gus, well....he was the exact opposite. He was like a soft, little overstuffed pillow who was more at home in the biology lab than the locker room during gym class. Tyler and his football buddies teased Gus for his weight, who consequently buried himself in his studies. He knew that being in advanced classes meant being away from Tyler and his teammates. They would never really see each other again until college. While Tyler had gotten a football scholarship and was the star quarterback, Gus was able to skip several entry level class using the college credits he earned from the Advanced Placement classes in high school. Every football season, his past bully was glorified. Flyers for the upcoming season were everywhere and featured Tyler's handsome face and athletic body. Gus just tried to ignore it all. He figured he could keep his distance and remain happy. He didn't care for sports all that much. Besides, he was there to get an education to get a good career. But the posters were everywhere and, as much as he hated to admit it, he found Tyler to be a very handsome guy. The memories of the hardships he faced made his attraction to the athlete a near-unbearable frustration that was about to become exasperated. Gus needed a health/physical education credit. Apparently the powers that be at the college think that students should be well-rounded. He was almost certain that if Tyler had been present in his academic advisor's office he would have made a jab about him already being "well-rounded." But while Gus was having flashbacks to gym class, his advisor began explaining a unique opportunity. "It's like this," she explained. "Normally, your options would be limited to either playing a sport or taking a health class that would involve physical activity, such as an aerobics class. But you actually have some wiggle room. These requirements were updated to be effective for students entering at the level you skipped. Now. You will still need to have a health credit, but given your career path, I believe I can manage to get you an intern position at the Health Center. We should be able to apply it to your health requirement under the guidelines that were in effect when you entered the university." Gus was gay, but he could have kissed his advisor, Mrs. Susan Greene, right then and there. The Health Center was the informal name for the campus clinic. It was the place for students to go if they were sick or needed medicine. It was also located right next to the Recreation Center and gym. The two buildings were attached to one another, which meant that a student who pulled a muscle or sprained an ankle could easily get bandaged or some muscle relaxers. The athletes liked it because it meant they could get supplements from the pharmacy to or from their workouts. And so, it was only a matter of time that, despite all his best efforts and wishes, Gus would cross paths with Tyler. It was 3:45PM on a Monday. Gus and Karen were working far behind the counter when the bell rang. Tyler had opened the door and walked in. On the security mirror, Gus could see it was Tyler and even worse, he appeared to have a prescription in hand. That meant he might have to interact with Tyler. It was obviously the perfect time to hide in the back to fill some orders and check inventory. "Coach said you had this supplement I could try," Tyler smirked as he slid the paper to Karen, who was all too eager to help the school's star player. "Absolutely!" The girl almost giggled. "We don't keep that one on the shelf though. We'll have to get it from the back." "That's fine. I'll be right here." Tyler smiled. Karen raced around to the back. In a whirlwind motion, she grabbed a scoop and shoved it into Gus's hand. Before he could say anything, she was pushing him to table where a large bucket held the powdered supplement. "Here! Fill this bottle. Fill another bottle and I'll let you leave early." She huffed and ran back to chat up Tyler. The two were insufferable. Each groan-worthy flirtation made the scooping process seem even more tedious. Karen said something and it made Tyler laugh. It was that distinct laugh that was hearty, proud, and boastful. Gus felt sick. The last time he heard it was when Tyler was teasing him while he sheepishly changed clothes in the locker room. Perhaps it was not his best moment, but emotion overtook Gus. He spat into the bottle and poured a scoop over it. The laughter continued and his eyes filled with tears. Gus spat into it again and covered it with another scoop. It was kind of cathartic, even if the punishment for getting caught would have been significant. His mouth became too dry to do the same with the other bottle, so he filled it up as he was supposed to. At the very least, he could put the bottles on the pickup shelf and not have to interact with Tyler. "There's a second bottle just for you, darling," Karen winked. Gus left out the back. He had permission to leave after all. He probably would have left anyway. He couldn't stomach any more. At least the bottles were large...maybe he wouldn't be expecting Tyler to be coming back any time soon. The semester passed along and the campus was abuzz with Tyler's performance. Everyone was talking about how he was unstoppable. People started calling him "Beast" and the name stuck. He led the team to victory after victory, sending the team into the championship, but all Gus cared about was that maybe the flyers would finally come down. He had his exams and he fully intended to spend his time studying in his apartment. There wasn't going to be anything to distract him, but then his cell phone rang. Thinking it was his parents, he swiped the screen to answer the call only to see it was a number he didn't recognize. Confused, Gus raised the phone to his face and answered it. "Uh...is this...is this Gus? This is Tyler." "T-Tyler?" Gus stammered, "How did you get my number?" "I asked around until I got it. We need to talk." "Oh no." Gus thought as he remember spitting into the supplement. "He is going to kill me." "I'm...I'm sorry." "What?!" "I'm sorry. I should have apologized a long time ago for...you know, some of the things I said and did to you back in middle school." Waves of emotions washed over Gus as he processed what he was hearing. He never expected this. Surely this couldn't be some cruel trick, could it? Before Gus was able to respond, Tyler sheepishly spoke once more. "Listen, could you buzz me up into your apartment? Please?" "Okay," Gus bit his lip and waited for the inevitable. After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Though it was slow as if with trepidation, it started firm before becoming gentler. Gus turned the handle and pulled it ajar. He turned around and walked back into his living space without acknowledging his visitor with a look. It wasn't until he plopped down on his sofa that he saw why people gave Tyler the nickname of "Beast." Closing the door behind him, Tyler stiffly walked into the room. He seemed taller than normal and had a king-sized bedspread wrapped around him. Gus raised an eyebrow at the bedspread. Unless Tyler was planning on wrapping his corpse in it, perhaps he wasn't going to fight him. "Can I help you?" Gus swallowed, unsure of what to expect at this point. "I certainly hope so. Coach has been testing me for everything under the sun. I've been forced to pee in a cup almost every day now. I have examined everything I have consumed for the last few weeks. The only thing I can't rule out was a supplement I got a while back at the Health Center. Karen said you were the one who filled the bottle and..." Tyler was looking down at his feet. "...And?" Gus felt a pit growing in his stomach. Some ice packs fell on the floor as Tyler dropped the bedspread to reveal a body of enormous musculature. The slightest movement further ripped the clothes he had to have special ordered to cover his growing bulk. Stiff, gentle movements were the only thing that kept him dressed. "You did something to it, didn't you?" Tyler kept his gaze at his feet. "Did something?" Gus echoed in surprise. "Could you...could you do it again?" Tyler pleaded "Or at least tell me what you did?" A dumbfounded Gus sat there with his mouth open. In desperation, Tyler ripped his shirt and ran to kneel down before Gus. His pants ripped in the process. His gaze still firmly set on the floor below. "I don't know what you did, but you changed me. Look at me. I have more chest hair on each pec than all the men in my family have on their entire chests combined. My nipples are large sensitive. The more I play with them, the more I want to play with them. And my balls..." Gus followed Tyler's gesture to see that Tyler's balls had grown large and heavy. He obviously had outgrown his cup; his jockstrap was start to fail as well. A brief glimpse at Gus was all it took for Tyler to start to become erect. He apparently had gained the penis to match his new size. With his jockstrap now shreds on the floor, Tyler was now only wearing shoes, his lucky chain necklace, and a pleading look. "I need you." Tyler panted. "Please." A mixture of arousal and confusion danced within Gus. "You need...me?" Gus shook from his stupor. "For what? Sex?" "I...I can't." Tyler bit his lip. "I started on the supplement and everything was good, right? I was starting to become massive, just like Coach wanted. I just accepted the added body hair growth as a side effect. But I became so horny. Like really horny! I've never been this horny in my life! I started jerking off but I just couldn't get over that edge. At best, I could only dribble out a ruined orgasm that left me still horny. At worst, I had to just sit in ice cold water to become flaccid again. I began skipping class to have more time to work out my frustration in the weight room. I developed the nipple fetish, which further captivated me. By then, I had finished the bottle of supplement. A buddy got me more at the Health Center, but it was lacking something." "Something..." Gus was still processing. "I've been unofficially suspended from the team pending a doping investigation. Everyone thinks I've hurt my foot...Coach is at least letting me save face. After I finished the bottle you made, the erections stopped, but I was still so horny. I nearly fainted when I saw you leave the Health Center. You gave me first erection since finishing that bottle and I have had these erotic dreams about you ever since....but I still have not had orgasmic relief since I started the supplement....and...I...I...need....you." Gus reached over and started stroking the endowed penis. Tyler's deep moans and panting increased. The strokes were slow and deliberate, making their way up the shaft to circle the head before meandering back down again. His speed increased slowly and gradually. "Oh...OH GOD! YES! SO...SO CLOSE! CL-CLOSEST I'VE...I'M ALMOST---" Gus leaned forward and pulled Tyler's head closer to his own, looked him deep in the eyes, and said "I haven't accepted your apology yet." Tyler heart skipped a beat at the realization and whimpered at the abrupt end to the strokes. Gus let his index finger explore Tyler's big, sensitive nipples before giving them a pinch. Tyler's penis throbbed uncontrollably, desperate for more. The massive beast of muscle, down on all fours, trembled with desire as the anticipation churned within his gut. Submission was complete and authentic. "Are you really sorry? Or do you just want an orgasm? I think we should have a heart-to-heart and I'm going to fondle your balls and nipples while we have it, is that clear?" "Yes, sir." ------------------ ETA: If you are comparing my picture to Gus, he isn't meant to be a self-insert. I just wanted to make the "well-rounded" joke.

(deleted by the author)

(Note, like a lot of my stories, the people in this are based on real people, at least in the beginning. I adjusting names and certain details to make the story more interesting, but I need to give credit where it is due. Let me know what you all think) Stewart and Henry were a married couple. Fortunately for me, their relationship was open, and they enjoyed inviting other guys to play with them. I was only an Italian-American college grad 20 something, kinda lanky, curly-haired and gangly, but 6'2" tall. While I'd been fascinated by twinks in high school and athletes in college, something about the settled, strong, somewhat chubby bodies and easy demeanor of Stewart and Henry drew me. Stewart was Irish-Scottish-American, and worked in some sort of number crunching company. He had bright, twinkling hazel eyes and buzzed hair and a round baby face with a boyish grin and stubble on his lips and chin. He was only about 5'7" tall, but he had a 7 inch long, thin dick that loved attention. His body was also nicely hairy all over, but his fair skin was marred by eczema, and though he said it was about the best it had ever been, he really loved it when I massaged him with the lotion to sooth his discomfort. I admit I was initially surprised, but once he explained the condition and I saw how much he loved being touched I thought of him as a lovable teddy bear, and several times I drove over to their townhouse just to massage him while he watched TV. Stewart's hairy body was fun to touch and play with, and he was very sensual. After a lifetime of being unable to touch anyone for fear of being seen as too gay, I loved caressing him. Stewart was also the more openly horny and the one who was more talkative, and it was he who initially invited me over when we were chatting on Adam4Adam. He liked trashy tv shows and dramas, and he also liked me. Henry was Cambodian-American, and worked as a manager for a mental health company. He had taken his husband's last name, and I was a bit in awe of him. He stood a bit taller than his husband at 5'11" and his body, though soft and smooth, was somewhat stronger from helping the orderlies care for patients. His dark brown eyes seemed to look deep, and he didn't talk much, but he would chat with me on facebook when his busy schedule allowed, and he was always polite and gentle. His skin was a rich bronze, and mostly smooth, except around his loins. His hair was longer than his husband, but only enough to flop neatly on his head, though he sometimes buzzed the sides and back. His dick was thicker than Stewart's, and its shape was sexier, too. Where Stewart got off quickly, Henry liked to take his time with me, both of us cuddling and caressing each other, stroking and sucking and and holding each other as we came, and then cuddling and making out afterwards. Sometimes, while Stewart would get off early and go clean up, Henry and I would spend longer and longer periods in bed, making out and exploring each other's bodies. I admit, if I found Stewart cute and playful and fun to take care of, I yearned for time spent with Henry. He was usually busy, though, and so I became more a friend to Stewart than a friend with benefits to both of them. One evening, though, Henry was working on something while Stewart and I reclined on the couch with his lotion, and while burly Cambodian was usually silent when he had a project, tonight he seemed especially focused on his laptop and some odd device, which looked like a combination of a tablet and a stereo and a whisk. "What's going on," I asked in a whisper to Stewart, who shrugged, and murmured back, "Some sort of mental health psychosomatic reinforcement subliminal message projector thing... there've been a few rowdy patients at Henry's job lately, and he's been trying to invent something to help them make breakthroughs, lower addiction symptoms, etc... doesn't seem to be working too well, if his temper is any indication. Poor guy has been beating himself up over trying to make it work, but I think his coworkers have written it off as a lost cause already. But the good news is he's made some progress on other stuff. He found a new experimental skin cream for me... it's supposed to work wonders... want to try it out?" I smiled. Stewart is cute when he wants something, though his condition can't be comfortable. "Sure thing... but let me wash my hands first... maybe make your husband take a break and start you on it," I reply as I get up, go to the restroom, and, out of habit, close and lock the door. It's not that I'd mind if either of them barged in on me if I was doing things far more private than washing hands, but it's just one of my quirks. Through the door, I heard the following: "Henry, hon, could you at least get me started before Mikey gets back?" "Ugh... I'll need to wash my hands afterwards if I'm going to be working on this piece of junk, but yeah, I could use a break, babe. I swear it is picking up kinky porn channels or something instead of projecting anything. If I could just find the right medium, I'm sure it'd work. Even now it is just loading." "You'll get it right eventually, hon." "Thanks babe. Oof... this jar is sealed tight." "C'mon, big guy, you're really strong... you can open it." "Grrr... I'll show you strong, sexy... finally!" I heard Stewart's mild, teasing applause, then, a moment later, "Ooo... thanks... that feels good, hon." "Yeah, it is nice and smooth... kinda tingly, though, mayb-" Henry was interrupted by a sudden electronic hum, which continued for several minutes. I was a little unnerved by their sudden silence, turned the sink off, and called out, "Guys, you ok?" In unison, both Stewart and Henry nearly moaned, "We ok," their voices sounding strangely flat over the continuing mechanical buzz. I finished drying my hands, opened the door and stood there in shock. Stewart and Henry were frozen in place, the new skin cream smeared over Henry's hands and Stewart's belly. But the skin cream was glowing with a strange golden light, and both men's expressions were blank. It was like they were awaiting something. At the same time, the device Henry had been working on was vibrating, the whisk-part shaking as electric arcs danced between the metal frame. I went over to examine the screen and saw the following message: Medium for personality and physiology alteration found. Connection made... suggestion waves interfacing with subject(s) physiology. Subject 2 has dermal errors... Medium can make repairs with heightened stimulation. Authorize? Y/N? I thought for a moment. Should I do this? Would it really help Stewart's skin? What if it made things worse? How long would this effect last? I took a deep breath, and typed "Y" The device flashed, and the gel flowed over Stewart, coating him entirely. I rushed over to try and pull it off his face, but in a moment, it seemed to have sunk into his skin, save for a few globs in the jar and on Henry's hands. But Stewart started to moan and lean back out of his husband's touch, running his hands over his body and writhing in what looked like pleasure on the couch. "Yeah... oh baby, yeah, yeah, I've never felt this good... fuck yeah!" he cried out. He opened his eyes and locked them with mine. "Mikey, fuck me, please fuck me, I need to get fucked! Fffffuck!" he growled out and yanked off his shirt, exposing his shoulders. I thought for a brief moment that he had snapped out of his earlier trance, but his eyes, though heavy lidded and sex-driven, were still unfocused. I noticed, though, that his skin seemed slightly more clear than before. I made up my mind. "Ok Stewart, I'll fuck you... pants off," I command, pulling off my clothes as I spoke. Something about Stewart seemed stronger, more alluring. No more the cute, sympathetic pup, now, physically tearing his pants and briefs off his legs and revealing a surprising bulge, long and slim and hardening. His neck and arms and chest all seemed thicker, more fire plug powerful, but he also seemed an inch taller. "Fuck yeah, Mikey! Only it's Stu, fuck, not Stewart. Stewart's a dweeb's name, and I'm... fuck... I'm all man." He really was changing before my eyes. His neck was thicker, and his biceps were flexing as he growled and cursed. I was surprised to see a tribal tattoo forming on his arms and shoulders, and his hair seemed to be reshaping into a military high and tight. His facial stubble was thickening. As I positioned myself, I noticed that Henry was still frozen in place, his eyes locked on the empty air where Stewart... Stu... had been when they first froze. But his pants are noticeably bulging, as if he can sense what is going on and can't help but be aroused. I took a deep breath, and slid into... Stu's hole. He felt tight, and he was flexing, his bulky body showing hard muscle underneath a daddylike meat. His cock flopped onto his gut, which was starting to show roid-abs, and he moaned loud and long, his voice deeper as his chest and neck muscles started to swell. His sweat smelled muskier, deeper somehow. I was finding myself lost in his body, seeing how responsive he was to each thrust of my dick. Then I noticed that he was actually getting a bit taller with each thrust. Where Stewart's rash had been, Stu only had flushed skin from the lust he was experiencing. His eyes were rolling back in his head, and nothing but profanity spilled from his now bearded lips as a newborn daddy hunk who lay on the couch beneath me. Eventually, I heard the device beep, and it seemed to trigger Stu's responses. He roared out, "Oh fuck... oh goddamn fucking FUCCCCKKKKKK!" Cum splattered from his dick and across his bulky, hairy chest muscles, and he seemed to pass out in a sexually satisfied stupor. I pulled out, but he didn't seem to notice, just began to snore. I noticed that his cum was soaking into his skin just like the lotion had, though. I went over to the device to see what it had to say about the situation, and saw the following message displayed: Medium for Personality and Physical Alteration suitable. Subject 2 responded extremely well. Save (rename) - Subject 2: __________ I began to type "Stu" into the blank, but autocorrect finished for me and saved him as "Stud." Searching databases... "Stud" qualities applied. Details downloaded from 34,768 pornographic films (see list). Increasing sex drive. Lowering inhibitions. Seeking open relationships or opportunities to spread genetic material. Intelligence shifting from academic to physical and socially and sexually driven. Subject 2 saved as "Stud." "Oh geez... I hope that doesn't make things worse." I mumble to myself, before the device beeped again. I looked to the screen and saw a new message. Medium for personality and physical alteration insufficient. Please apply greater quantities of the medium to Subject 1's epidermis. Failure to do so promptly could result in brain damage from extended halted mental operations. I looked at Henry, and saw that drool was starting to spill from his lips. "Oh geez oh geez oh geez," I yelped as I grabbed some dishwashing gloves from the sink to avoid getting any of the stuff on me, and yanked open Henry's button down shirt to expose as much of his golden skin as possible. I took the jar from his hand and began slathering the lotion onto his body, watching as it glowed brilliantly under the stimulation of the device's signals. When I'd practically emptied the container, I dropped, it, pulled off the gloves so they landed on Henry's bare feet, and returned to the device, where I was relieved to see a new message waiting for me. Medium for personality and physical alteration found. Connection made... suggestion waves interfacing with subject(s) physiology. Subject 1 experienced mild brain damage. Repairs must be made to allow continued functioning. Authorize? Y/N? Without hesitation I pressed Y. I wanted Henry safe and whole. The device flashed again, and the gel coated all of Henry's body, remaining for longer than it had on Stewart before sinking into the bronzed Cambodian skin. Henry showed signs of life, animating and moaning low and loud. Unlike his husband, he didn't say any words... in fact, it seemed like he was acting far more primal and animalistic than Stewart had. He began to growl, deep in his throat and belly, and flex his muscles... which were beginning to pump and swell, making his remaining clothes look that much tighter. Veins seemed to swell in his neck and torso, as if pumping with the gel. His gut seemed to be pushing towards me, but "roid gut" abs were forming on its expanse as well. Henry's shoulders seemed to be getting broader, and his breathing was louder as the changes swept through his body (and presumably his mind). His neck was getting thicker, more bull-like, and I heard his spine crack as he began to get taller. Soon, he was approaching my height! Henry's clothes seemed smaller and smaller, but he took a step towards me, reaching out with hands that spasmed as a response to his arm muscles starting to grow. I felt those twitching, throbbing hands grab me... and push me aside! Instead of doing anything with me, like Stewart... or Stu, or Stud, I suppose... had, Henry went straight for his husband's passed out form on the couch. He bent his knees and flexed with a grunt, and began to flex more seriously. Shockingly, his muscles seemed to bulge and pump and swell even more! In a moment, his shirt had torn off his broad, veiny shoulders, revealing a body that had grown into the muscle, massive gut bulging under pillow-sized pecs capped with erect nipples. As his body continued to flex and expand, soon his pants too started to tear off... and perhaps in preparation for my visit, he hadn't been wearing underwear underneath. His cock, now a solid, massive monster, thick and vein-covered, flew up and smacked his belly as the tattered remnants of his old life fell to the floor. Even his socks ripped off his now bigger bare feet. The newly naked beast of a man wasted no time, leaning forward to bury his face and tongue between the cheeks of his husband's new hairy, unblemished muscle butt. I could hear loud slurping sounds as Henry... or the man who'd been Henry... began to rim Stu's stud ass with long strokes of his tongue. Stu began to moan and wake up. With a string of dialogue that I was starting to recognize from certain porn movies, Stu left no doubt about that. "Oh fuck, hon, you're so big! Look at those muscles... yeah, eat out that tight ass. Our little friend didn't fill me near enough. I need your big meat. Give it to me, hon... give me that. Huge. Fucking. Dick!" Henry complied. It was really hot to watch his body move, his head rising from his partner's hole, his hard dick, now almost as thick and long as my forearm, dripping precum as he lined it up, then placed his big hands on his husband's hairy shoulders and thrust inside the smaller man. The couch, a well-weighted thing that had withstood a lot, actually moved with the force, and Stu's language turned, if possible, even more profane. There was no effort to make sense, just variations on the theme of fucking in between gasps of breath with each thrust Henry made. Until Stu did something that changed things... he renamed Henry: "C'mon, Hank, stop holding back and pound me! FUCK!" Henry... or, I suppose, Hank, now... froze, despite Stu's extremely vocal complaints. "H-hank..." he moaned, his voice rough. "I-I'm H-Hank..." "Yeah, you are, HUNK, now fucking fucking FUCK ME!" yelled Stu. He probably shouldn't have said that. Henry's face seemed conflicted. "Hank... Hunk... Hank... Hunk... Hank... Hunk." As Stu continued to scream profanities, I moved forward, stood on tiptoe (for Henry had inched taller over the last minute or so), and murmured in his ear. "Some people call you Henry or Hank... or even Hunk." Henry's huge, muscular body stilled at my words. "I call you beautiful and powerful and genius and brilliant and sexy and the greatest man I know." Henry's body was shaking as his mind tried to accomodate all the changes it was undergoing at the words I spoke. "You're... Stu's... husband. A hard worker. Really gentle and strong and understanding at the same time. I wish I could call you mine." The world seemed to stop. Was I really going to do this? If I said the right thing, I could claim this mountain of a man for myself, maybe more deeply than anyone else ever would. But... if he didn't choose me, then his only interest in me would be flat and mechanical, right? It wouldn't be real. Henry deserved better than that. Hank deserved better than that. I deserved better than that. I thought for a minute to choose my words carefully, my mind made up, as I blocked out Stu's grumbles, I took a deep breath. "... but you're your own man." He seemed to shudder and sigh, and a smile moved across his lips as he nodded, seeming more at peace. Then, he abruptly returned to fucking his husband like it was the only thing that mattered. Henry... Hank... picked up Stu and started fucking him in mid-air, smooth lips against bearded ones. The harder and faster Hank thrust into his love, the more weight seemed to melt off him. Hank went from bulky to more powerfully built, with greater and greater definition. Cut muscles were revealed across his back and torso, and his ass showed incredible striation as his hips sped up. Sweat gleamed over his body as his huge biceps and powerful legs flexed, and, still sucking face, both men came. I could hear Stu cussing against his husband's kiss, though the words were muffled, and Hank's whole body just shuddered as they coated each other in their seed... which also seemed to melt into their flesh almost immediately. Both men then sank to the ground, wrapped in each other's embrace and drifted off to sleep again. I went over to the device, and found that it had overheated and died, its internal circuits fried sometime during the events of the evening, leaving it as a useless molten piece of junk. The lotion container that Stewart had needed was likewise entirely empty. I tried to clean up, but the guys wouldn't be moved from their spot on the carpet, so I settled in on the couch to be there for them when they woke up. Everything's different now. Stu and Hank (or Stud and Hunk, as they sometimes refer to themselves) have a voracious sexual appetite now, especially for each other. They're the only ones they can really cut loose with, since they are so much stronger and more durable than other men. That hasn't stopped them from pursuing careers as rising stars in the porn world. The public loves Stu's rough and tumble Daddy Bear style, and he's taken to the leather world as well. Meanwhile, at 7'3," Hank is one of the tallest, most powerfully built men out there, and he's seen as the strong, stoic type. Their old minds and memories are hazy at best, and Hank especially seems to be a completely new man. Their sex drives are through the roof, though, and they seem ready to try new things, so they've moved across the country to settle in to new lives where they won't have to encounter their old friends and family. I get a Christmas card each year from them, usually with palm trees and naked guys on it. And, of course, I have ordered every film they've starred in. Nobody knows what went wrong with the weird device and the gel. No one was ever able to replicate the same results with either product. The doctors gave each man a clean bill of health, but their psychiatrists said it might be years before they mentally and emotionally recover from the changes... if ever. They said that Henry and Stewart's nerves must've been hijacked by the malfunctioning device's signal through the medium of the gel, and through those nerves, the rest of their physiology was similarly affected. But doctors and shrinks became compromised after I found one worshipping both partners. It seemed that people just couldn't keep their hands off Hank and Stu... including Hank and Stu. When they left, they were both too into exploring their new muscles and minds that they spent an increasing amount of time having sex and exploring their changes. They didn't even say goodbye. As for me? I'm just living my life, just a normal guy who had a brush with greatness. I'm hoping someday, someone or someones will love me that much.

"Je vous laisse, mon ami!" "WHAT!, after everything we have we went through together Pierre? I don’t understand what you want me to do. I was going to propose to you at Christmas. You are going to just give up on us without a second thought? I don’t even care that you slept with Gustav, you mean so much to me." “Winston, I just can’t get past the fact that you look…..uhhhh so…..small. I want to be with a partner that can not only make me happy on the inside, but also looks great on the outside.” “I do workout Pierre, you know this. You used to complement me so much on my athletic physique. What happened?” “Gustav est passé mon ami. He fulfills my insatiable desire for muscle. If you were just……uhhhh…..how do you say……bigger, I would be much more satisfied.” Winston continues to look at Pierre dumbfounded and wonders why he would be thinking this way since they seemed to be so happy. Before he can get another word out though, Pierre waves goodbye to him and turns around to get into his car. The stunned thinner young man stands in silence as his eyes well up with tears. They stream down his face as he watches his former lover drive down the road and beyond the mountain outside the city in the distance. To take Pierre off his mind, he walks a few thousand feet down the sidewalk before he stumbles upon a park that is located just on the edge of the city. He enters the passageway and notices an impressively built water fountain about a quarter mile ahead from where he is standing and walks towards it. Halfway there, he can hear several clanging sounds as the sky rains with piles of shiny gold coins. When he leans down to examine some of them, several pelt him in the head and knock him down unconscious. He awakens several minutes later and realizes that the entire path to the water fountain is made of these coins. He hears a voice in the background and wonders if it is his imagination. He speaks loudly. “Hello? Who are you?” There is no answer. He takes a few more steps and notices that some of the coins are loose on the ground and can be picked up. After examining a handful of them, one of them glows a bright green color which immediately catches his eye. He grins as he drops the rest of them and continues to stare at it. The voice returns again which makes him snap out of his trance. “What the? WHO ARE YOU!?” The voice laughs before saying, “Lad, I think you know what you are supposed to do with that lucky coin, am I right?” He looks at it again and then walks the rest of the path to stand directly in front of the fountain. He closes his eyes before flipping it up into the air. As he does this, time slows to a crawl as he watches in amazement when the coin hits the water at half the speed. The splash is so intense that it forms a tidal wave and lands directly on top of him. He yells in fright as it drowns him before draining into the ground. As he comes to again, he looks up and sees a rainbow appear from just over the mountain as it ends directly in front of the fountain just a few feet away from him. A strange looking machine follows it down as it stops at the bottom. A small muscular man dressed in a green outfit with a black belt and a color coordinated hat jumps down and immediately walks over to punch him in the right leg. “OW! What the fuck man? Damn, you are a strong little man. And kind of…..” The small man stops him before he can get another thought out. “Don’t say it mate, I know what you are thinking. You think I am attractive because I have these muscles.” *he points to his biceps and flexes them as they stretch the fabric on his jacket* “Now, I want you to come with me back to my home world Winston so we can get this moving along.” Winston looks thoroughly confused and has no idea what he is talking about as he looks down at him. “Huh? What? I don’t know what you are talking about little man? What did I do?” The little man punches him in the crotch and shakes his head in disbelief as he stands there with his hands on his hips. “Lad, why do you have to be so naïve. You made a wish when you threw that coin into this here fountain behind me. I am here to help you fulfill that wish, but you have to come with me to complete a quest in order for it to come true.” Winston looks on in a stupor as the little man physically picks him and slams him onto the machine he rode on. He gets in on the other side of it as it begins to move. The shocked human has trouble getting any words out as he attempts to comprehend how a man that probably weighs about 50 pounds could carry a guy that is three times his body weight without any resistance whatsoever. “Shhh…..don’t even say anything mate. Let me introduce myself, I am Padraig, leader of the Emerald guild. In case you haven’t noticed, we be muscled LOL.” *he flexes again as the machine moves up the rainbow towards the mountain* “But seriously Winston, you said in your mind as you threw that coin that you wished to become the man that Pierre wanted you to be. This is your chance to show him that you indeed can and will.” Once they get to the other side of the rainbow and over the mountain, Padraig and Winston get off the machine and start walking towards the village located just to their right. The surprised human stops for a few seconds as the little man turns to look up at him. He puts his big right hand on his forehead and sighs before he speaks again. “Winston, I know that this is all a bit of a shock to you, but there is only a small amount of time to complete your quest. Before you begin however, I want you to meet your guide through your adventure.” As they walk through the village, another little muscular man approaches them and stops just far enough away to where he catches the eye of the much taller human. Paddy stops him in his tracks and stands next to Winston before he starts to smile knowing what he must be thinking. He then walks over to the other little man and puts his hand on his beefy shoulder. “Aye there Ioan, glad you could come and participate in the quest that has been selected for you. This here is Winston, he made a wish in the fountain on Earth and is now here to fulfill his destiny.” The remarkably good-looking small man looks up at him and makes a few gestures like he wants Winston to pick him up. When the surprised human attempts to do so, he figures out that the man is a lot heavier than he looks. After a few more failed attempts, Paddy intervenes and leads them both over to a table so they can talk briefly. “Ioan will be with you through this quest Winston. Actually, he will be a part of the quest as well. His fate will be in your hands as a result of a set of questions that will be asked as you make your way through the tundra that is just beyond the gates of this village.” Paddy points in the direction of the tundra and leans over the table to whisper something into Ioan’s ear. The little man looks a tad bit concerned as he turns to look up at Winston and then looks at Padraig again. The elder muscleman gives him a look that suggests that he must go through with whatever he told him or else there will be consequences. After about twenty seconds, Ioan gets up from the table and walks towards the gates before opening them and disappearing into the landscape. Winston is a bit confused as to what just occurred and wonders what this will entail. “I don’t understand what this man has to do with me, but for some reason I feel like I have some connection to him. Is this partly because of the quest that I have to complete with him?” Paddy smiles before he gets up from the table and motions for Winston to do the same. He then leads the human over to the gates and walks through them. They stop after a few hundred feet of entering the tundra before the little man stops. He turns to look up at Winston once more. “Okay lad, this is where I must leave you so you can fulfill your destiny. The tundra will be jarring at first, but once you reach the crossroads, you will know what to do next.” A large sack appears in front of Winston which surprises him. “Take that with you laddy, it has enough supplies in it to sustain you for however long you are here. I wish you luck and I will see you soon.” The little muscleman turns to walk back through the gates as they close behind him and he vanishes. After pausing for a few seconds after picking up the velvet bag, Winston immediately starts walking again across the barren wasteland. The cooler temperatures make him stop after trekking for a few minutes as he opens the bag up and pulls out a heavy coat from within. He briefly wonders how this could be inside of it but figures that it is some kind of magic and continues to walk ahead. For what seems like hours, Winston eventually reaches the area that Padraig spoke of. A huge cave appears from out of nowhere which briefly concerns him. He goes inside and manages to find enough kindling in his bag to make a fire. He then makes a bed out of some fabric and goes to sleep for the night as the sun disappears behind the mountain that is just above the village in the distance. When he awakens the next morning, he is greeted by the small man he saw leave from back in the village. He is not wearing a top as his hairy muscular chest is just inches away from Winston’s face. The muscular man’s deep masculine voice stuns the much taller human as he sits up. “Good morning sir, I wondered if you might find this place. I am supposed to ask you a question which has two possible answers. Whichever answer you choose will decide what happens next.” He helps Winston up from the ground so he can look up at him as he talks. The man’s nicely groomed reddish brown beard and green eyes are not what he was expecting to see when he woke up for the day, but is pleasantly surprised. They take a few steps outside the cave and turn back around to look at it. Ioan proceeds to ask Winston the question. “Which one of your parents do you miss the most Winston? This question must be answered truthfully or your quest will end here.” Winston is stunned by the question right off the bat and puts his arms above his head. He had no idea that this would even come up and immediately looks down at Ioan. “WHAT!? What kind of question is that? What does this have to do with my wish at the fountain? Did Padraig tell you to ask me this question?” Ioan puts his hand out as Winston takes his hands off his head to hold the little man’s. He looks up at the human and has a relatively neutral look on his face. “This is just part of the process Winston and I am sorry. I was summoned to be your guide and I have been put in charge of the questions that have to be asked. This actually does pertain to your wish indirectly and is meant to help you cope with what happened to you in the past.” After a moment of self-reflection, it dawns on Winston that he is going to be asked three questions that will pertain to his past, what is happening in the present, and what may or may not happen in the future to him. He grips Ioan’s hand as hard as the little man is now gripping his. “I…..I can’t go back Ioan. They both meant so much to me. I mean…..why?” Ioan walks forward, still holding Winston’s hand, and pulls him further into the cave with him. After taking about fifty steps down into the dark corridor, it changes into two emergency room doors. They stop just a few feet in front of them as Ioan looks up to talk to Winston again. “This is where you must answer the question Winston. Your parents are both here. Talk to them face-to-face one last time. This will help you move on since this has been lurking in your mind for a great deal of time. I will wait in the lobby for when you return so that we can move on to the next question. You will be fine mate, I promise.” Ioan lets go of Winston’s hand as they enter into the waiting area of the hospital. The little hairy muscleman stands there as numerous medical personnel move around him not noticing either one of them are even there. The scared taller young man tries not to lose his composure as he takes a deep breath and walks down the hospital corridor towards one of the recovery rooms on the right. He stops walking when he glances inside one of the rooms and sees both his father and mother lying in beds side by side hooked up to machines. He slowly enters the room and walks between them to turn back and forth to look at them with heavy eyes. He can’t get any words out as he gets on his knees beside his mother to hold her hand and lightly weep. She moves her hand as she turns to look at him. “Winston…..I am so glad that you made it here. Ronnie and I didn’t know if you would get here in time or not…..I can’t seem to remember much…..I just wanted to let you know how much I love you and that I will always be in your heart. I also wanted to tell you that I am fine with who you are so don’t worry about it anymore, okay?” Winston tries to keep from crying but can’t hold back the tears that are welling up. They stream down his face as his mother begins to struggle with her breathing. Before he can say anything to her, she loses consciousness and flat lines. His father Ronnie starts to grunt behind him as he tries to get up to see if his wife is okay or not. Multiple nurses come flooding into the room as they try to restrain him as others try to revive her. Winston’s dad is finally put in restraints as the incredibly muscular middle-aged man winces feeling his body hurting from the catastrophic injuries he sustained in the car accident. The extremely sad young man quickly moves over to the other side of his father’s bed where there is no medical personnel and grasps his dad’s bloodied hand. He is amazed that he never noticed how powerful his dad was before as he looks at all the huge veins cascade from his forearms all the way up his arms and directly into his father’s head. Ronnie looks over at his son and is very distraught. He squeezes Winston’s hand tightly as he pulls him in to hug him. The stunned young man bawls as his dad holds him against his chest. After a few seconds, he lets go of Winston and the sad young man gets down on his knees again to talk to his father. Ronnie tenses his muscles a few times since the pain is so excruciating and looks at his son’s eyes before he speaks. “Look at you Win, you have really grown up since I last saw you. It seems like yesterday that you were just barely walking…..actually it has been that long hasn’t it?” Ronnie pauses for a few moments before he reaches over to grab Winston’s arm to squeeze it. “I am a bit surprised though that you haven’t started growing muscles like your old man here. I want you to be big and strong so you can handle things in case you need to protect yourself or possibly the love of your life perhaps.” He tenses his chest and arms again to show Winston that he stayed in shape all the way up to the accident. He then smiles at him before he speaks again. “I may not have ever heard that you were gay son, but just know that I am okay with it. I’m not sure how your mother would feel about it, but I love you more than you will ever know.” He puts his arms out again to embrace his son and pulls him in to hold him one last time. The power radiating from him dissipates as Winston feels his dad fading away as the machines beep before he flat lines as well. The nurses that were trying to revive his mother move over to Ronnie and begin doing CPR on him as they push Winston out of the way. The young man falls onto the ground and yells in agony as he witnesses both of his parents die in front of him. After a few seconds he feels a small hand move up against his shoulder. He looks up and sees that it is Ioan who joins him on the floor to comfort him. “I didn’t say it would be easy mate, but you were here to see them one last time. I know it hurts a lot, but this will help you heal. *gets up and reaches his hand out to pull Winston up off the ground* Come on, it is time to move on to the next question. We will have to leave this place first though.” Winston stops sobbing and leaves the room only to turn back around to look in at them one last time. Ioan grasps his hand and starts pulling him away towards the front of the ER lobby. They walk through the doors as it vanishes behind them. The young man turns and is stunned by what just happened. Ioan takes him back to where he was staying at in the cave and has him sit down. “Rest for a few minutes Winston and eat something. This was a difficult situation I know. Think on it if you need to and I will return to go to the next question.” Winston spends a few minutes sitting there before he gets up to find Ioan standing just outside the cave. The little muscleman is quite surprised that he is already there. “Wow, are you sure you want to move on so quickly. This next question is going to be a bit tough as well. Why do you think your boyfriend left you? This question must be answered with a truthful answer or your quest ends here.” Winston thinks that he knows the answer to this question but before he says a word, Ioan shakes his head no. “Hold on Winston. I don’t think that you were told the whole story from Pierre. It is time to go back into the cave again and find out what the answer is okay?” The two men walk back in and proceed down the cave corridor again. They stop moving forward when a balcony appears in front of them with a beautiful lake in the background. There are numerous boats on the lake and it appears that there is some party going on. Winston seems a bit confused by the whole scenario before he hears Pierre’s voice off to the side. It sounds like he is moaning quite loudly and is having sex with someone. He then hears multiple voices and rushes onto the balcony before going into a side door into what he thinks is a beach house. Ioan stands outside and looks on as Winston finds Pierre sandwiched between three heavily muscled men. His ex-boyfriend is being fucked by one of them as the two others take turns fucking his mouth with their huge rods. None of them are Gustav though since Winston would recognize him immediately. His blood pressure rises as he confronts his ex. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PIERRE!? You told me you were with Gustav, why would you lie to me?” Pierre immediately shoves the guy that is inside him off and jumps to his feet. He is completely soaked in sweat as he tries to compose himself. The three muscle monsters begin to move towards Winston, but Pierre tells them to stop. “Oh mon gawd mon ami! What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you to show up so soon after we broke up. Gustav? Uhhh…..well I was going to go see him after taking a few days off, you know? *seems really confused* Uhhhh, how did you find this place? I don’t think we ever came here when we were dating did we?” The three musclemen move down to the lake and find an open area to lie on the ground. Pierre notices that they are going there without him as he tries to move past Winston. The angry American grabs his French lover on the arm and grips it tightly. “I want answers Pierre, what are you doing with these guys? Were you doing this shit when we were together?” The athletic Frenchman pauses for a few seconds and sighs. “Winston, I have needs. I need to satisfy these needs by going all in with it. Originally, it was just one, but it has grown quite a bit since then and now I have three awesome sluts that make me feel alive. *pulls Winston’s hand off his arm* Maintenant, si vous pouvez me excuser mon ami, I need to go join my friends so we can finish what we started when you got here.” The nude Frenchman rushes out the side door and down to the lakeshore as the three huge hulks begin to mess around with each other again. Winston walks out slowly and looks over the balcony as he watches his ex-boyfriend get ravaged by each one of them as he yells in ecstasy feeling his body getting thrashed by each one of them. Ioan climbs up onto the bannister of the balcony and sits beside where Winston has decided to wait for him. The irritated human looks over and shakes his head. “How the hell did I not know about this Ioan? This isn’t the guy I knew. He never once let on that he was into this kind of thing.” Ioan reaches over and pats him on the back. “Mate, these kinds of things happen more than you realize. What he is doing with those men right now is a fantasy for quite a few muscle lovers. Of course, not every man is as reckless as he is.” The little man points down at the orgy as Pierre yells in French as one of the men pumps him full of cum. The two others pump their cocks as the Frenchman licks the precum off both of them. They both grunt as they shoot two massive rivers of cum all over his face and chest. He takes turns gobbling down the huge poles as they continue to spurt into his mouth. His appetite for their muscular bodies is so great that he makes himself cum without ever touching his cock. The volcano splashes all over his chest and legs as one of the men grabs a hold of his rod and grips it tightly. When he lets go, his cock continues to shoot huge ropes all over himself. At this point, Winston is quite disgusted and gets down off the bannister and turns to leave. Ioan follows behind as they walk back through the cave as the beach house disappears behind them. The young man sits down again and puts his head in his hands. Ioan stands above him to speak. “That was supposed to be tough mate. This was meant to show you that he is not who you thought he was.” “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Our last conversation was about me being muscular. He said I wasn’t his type. Do you know if he is really dating Gustav or not?” Ioan grins and shakes his head yes. Winston is stunned that he is actually with him and wonders if he should ever tell him about Pierre’s secret. The little man doesn’t offer much of an answer to that thought. “When you are ready Winston, we can move on to the last question.” The story will conclude next week. Check out a previous installment in this series: Rainbow: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/2429-the-little-man-and-the-rainbow/

Check out the first part if you haven't already:https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7821-the-little-man-and-the-christmas-wishes-part-1-of-2/ The young man stands up immediately and walks outside the cave like before. Ioan stops him before he leaves though and shakes his head no. “You don’t have to leave the cave for this one Winston. This question is a bit different. During this quest, I have been studying you. You have been put through quite a bit of anguish and I have felt it as you have experienced it. While you haven’t come out and said it, I know that deep down in your soul, you want to be a muscle freak. Your father felt it when he held you in that hospital room. I watched you stare at those men as they fucked Pierre. You wanted to be one of those men.” Winston stops him before he continues. “I have never had the willpower to work out like that though, but…..yes I do want to be huge and powerful. What is this last question you are going to ask me Ioan?” The hunky little man smiles and flexes his impressive biceps. “Exactly how big do you want to be mate? Or rather, how big should I be for you?” Before Winston can answer him, Ioan starts moaning as his legs and arms start cracking and immediately begin to lengthen. The four-foot tall muscleman takes all but a few seconds before he passes five-foot as his bones continue to stretch and reform underneath the fresh skin that is growing on top of his newly forming frame. The young human stares on in complete shock as he watches his guide transform into a normal sized man. After a minute of this, Ioan stops growing taller once he hits around six foot, which is about an inch or two shorter than what Winston is. He walks up to the surprised young man and puts his reasonably skinny arms around him. He smiles as his face now matches the rest of his body in size and proportion. “Well, that was a nice start don’t you think Winston? *he hugs him and rubs the human’s back* This feels kind of nice, but I’m not done if you think this is it. Remember what the question was? How big should I be for you? This time, you can answer me directly instead of walking down that corridor like before.” Winston is nearly speechless as he looks at the incredibly sexy man’s reddish brown beard and green eyes. He immediately leans in and kisses Ioan on the lips as he holds him up against his body. He is quite attracted to him now which has been developing the entire time that he has been with him. They kiss for several minutes before Winston lets him go finally. Ioan rubs his human counterpart’s face and feels his firm frame before he walks backwards a few steps. “Okay Winston, it is that time. I know what I want to do for you because I could feel it inside you as we embraced. What do you want to do for me? I gave you some of my power as we kissed. You can make me as big as you want.” Winston looks at Ioan and can’t believe what he has witnessed so far. He pauses for a few seconds before he says something. ‘I uhhhhh…..what just happened? I just watched you grow taller and now you look……so much like…..’ Ioan grunts in his deep manly voice as he interrupts Winston. He is getting a bit restless as he stares down at his thin frame. “Make me powerful mate, I desperately crave it. Give me what I desire…..mmmmmm……ohhh.” The sexy former little man can feel a burning sensation emanating from the center of his body as he senses a change coming from within. Very faint noises are coming from the bottom half of his body as his pupils dilate. He can feel his feet and calves growing thicker as the veins swell to twice their size as each muscle fiber twitches. The process is slow but steady as it spreads past his knees and moves into his hamstrings and quads. Winston hears him moan as he watches Ioan’s legs destroy the shorts that were riding his ass after he grew taller. He is hypnotized when he sees the former little man’s cock and balls lengthen and swell to nearly twice its size. Ioan is spilling a huge pile of precum onto the floor of the cave now. He makes an obscene motion with his ass like he is being humped by another man as he looks at Winston with a dirty look on his face. “MMMMMM Winston, come here and fuck me please, I crave it so much. Ahhh, my ass is growing…..ohhhh yes, it is getting so big.” Ioan’s glutes swell to resemble two volleyballs. His quads are now nearly twice their size as the growth moves up into his upper body. Winston gives in to his temptation and walks over to join in on his guide’s euphoric journey. He slides his pants off and shoves his cock inside his growing friend’s eager hole. He thrusts hard as he wraps his hands around Ioan’s swelling obliques, stabilizers, and abs as he feels every single one of them pop out and swell against his fingers. He moans loudly as he buries his face into the man’s emerging back muscles which are doubling up on each other. Winston then looks up to watch as his friend’s lats push their way out from his back and flare outward. “RAWR! YES MORE…..I WANT MORE WINSTON…..GIVE ME MORE MATE!” Next are Ioan’s arms and pecs as the veins swell up like garden hoses inside his forearms, biceps, and triceps as they form into huge boulders in every area. It is obvious that the growing musclestud craves huge arms since he immediately flexes them as the bulging cannons form perfect peaks. His delts and traps are able to match his perfectly shaped shoulders. He heaves his chest as each breath summons his pecs to swell even bigger. Winston can see his partner’s nipples drape down along the sides on each mammoth pectoral. He continues to run his hands along the thick hairy marble slabs before reaching up to squeeze the giant mounds of flesh. “FUCK ME MATE! SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT MY MUSCLES!” Winston kisses Ioan’s massive bullneck as he pushes his cock all the way inside him. The thick muscle monster yells in ecstasy as he feels his own cock throbbing as the veins pulse furiously as it bounces with each thrust. The infatuated human screams in delight as he finally unloads inside the hulking hairy monster. Ioan grunts as he feels his balls stretching to their limits as he attempts to hold the massive volcano that is building inside them. He turns his head to lock lips with his human lover. Winston thrusts a few more times before he pulls his cock out to hold on to the hunky muscle monster before Ioan turns around and rubs his massive hardon against Winston’s thin chest. The precum continues to flow like a river as the horny human gets down on his knees to gulp some of it down his throat. Ioan moans deeply feeling Winston run his tongue along the engorged cockhead. “Ohh bloody yeah Winston, I know what you want. You will have to work for it though because despite the fact that I am leaking so much precum, I can hold back for however long it takes to make you fulfill your destiny.” Winston moves his tongue along the veiny shaft as he runs it up and down the sides making it drip with his saliva before he decides to gulp it back down his throat. He can feel it twitch a few times as it starts to completely fill up his entire airway. The sheer size of it makes him gag as he tries to breathe through his nose. Ioan knows what is going to happen next as he continues to lodge the huge rod further down inside his human subject’s esophagus. Winston panics and grips his guide’s mammoth ass and tree trunks as he struggles for each breath. Ioan manages to push it all the way in before his balls begin to contract. The volcano rushes into his huge dick and drains into Winston’s stomach. The cold wintry air around them isn’t enough to keep the hairy beast from perspirating heavily onto his human counterpart as his own breathing intensifies as he holds Winston in place. He moans knowing he is going to turn Winston into a muscle beast next. “MMMMMM, shhhhh. Just stay calm mate and let it permeate your senses. This is the hardest part of the whole transformation. You feel like you are dying, but your body will handle it in……3…..2…..1…..” Ioan can feel Winston’s throat and esophagus starting to get a bit wider as his human partner’s head starts swelling as the muscles inflate in his face and his breathing changes. His winces are now changing to moans as the huge muscle beast pulls his cock out of his human friend’s mouth to let him focus on his own growth. Winston feels his entire body starting to heat up as he tries to keep from losing his mind. “Oh gawd…..oh jeezus…..what the…..fucking…..I feel so numb. *feels his arms swelling now* There are so many things going on in my head Ioan. *his back and pecs are growing as well* DAMN! What a fucking rush…..are you doing this to me?” His shirt is unable to contain the sheer mass that is underneath it as it shreds multiple times. The huge boulders popping out from within Winston’s body along his shoulders and biceps are making his cock react wildly as the excited pole stretches as it thickens. He involuntarily clenches his fists as the veins in both of his arms inflate overtop of his thick growing forearms as giant horseshoes emerge to match his biceps in immensity. Ioan walks up to him to feel his pecs stretch and fill up every single square inch of space on what was a flat surface of skin. His nipples double in size as they rub up against Ioan’s own pecs. The sensation from them touching each other makes Winston’s balls inflate until they turn purple as his swollen footlong spills a sticky ribbon of precum all over his guide’s huge prick. The two musclebeasts lock lips as Winston’s growth progresses down from his chest and into his abdominals which are developing into a huge ten pack. The rock-hard tiles rub up against Ioan’s as the two monsters get even more acquainted with each other’s mass. The heavily muscled Irishman reaches around Winston’s side to feel his lats and obliques popping as they reshape themselves. He finds his partner’s gaping hole and picks him up for a moment to slide his cock inside as his partner’s ass blows up into two equally huge balloons. The growth flows through Winston’s lower half at lightning speed as he yells feeling his legs exploding in size as perfectly shaped diamonds emerge from his hamstrings and quads. His calves manage to match the massiveness of his upper legs as the growth finally reaches his feet which have stretched and thickened up into beastly proportions. They both fall onto the ground as Winston starts bouncing up and down on Ioan yelling and grunting in delight as he feels his partner leaking inside him. With a much deeper and manlier voice that now matches Ioan’s: “Fill me up big man, make me a gawd if that is what you want me to be, I don’t care…..OH FUCK…..this must be what heaven is like!” The bearded Irishman moans as he shoots another incredible load up inside Winston which prompts his body to swell even bigger as every muscle fiber in his body glistens. Winston moans feeling his mantits throb as his cock bounces furiously against his lover’s huge chest. “I can’t make you any bigger Winston, but you are feeling the most intense pump of your life right now. Your body is trying to make you cum and it will get its wish here in about…..” Before he can complete his sentence, Winston’s cock blasts him in his face with several huge ropes of cum. He laughs as he sticks his tongue out to catch some of it and gulps it down. “My turn mate, you might enjoy the fact that mmmmmm…..ohh that feels so good.” Ioan’s cock swells inside Winston’s anus as his body develops the same kind of pump that Winston has. The bearded monster flexes his guns as they rise another inch. His chest follows suit as well as the rest of his massive frame. The two men then take turns licking and sucking on each other’s engorged mountains of flesh. After several minutes of intense muscle worship, they both feel their pumps dissipating and decide to just hold each other as they move over by the fire that is still burning in the cave. Winston gets the bag that Ioan gave him when the quest started and pulls out another blanket to put around them both. He looks into the Irishman’s beautiful green eyes and leans in to kiss him deeply. They lie down and hold each other close as the sun goes down and the temperatures outside drop even further. The steam from both of their massive frames rises off of them and into the cold air. They laugh a bit once they realize just how big they have gotten as a result of all of this growth. Ioan looks into Winston’s bluish-gray eyes before he speaks to him. “Well Winston, this is the end of your quest. You have managed to answer all three questions to the best of your ability so whatever happens next will be up to you.” The well-muscled human doesn’t waste another second when he says, “I love you Ioan. I want you to come back to the city with me. You are no longer small like you were so I don’t think you would fit in here anymore, am I right?” Ioan smiles and agrees with him. “Like I said before, you answered the questions to the best of your ability and this is the result of your final question. During this whole process, you secretly were measuring me up and fantasizing about what I would look like if I was your size, well here I am and I would personally like to thank you mate for fulfilling my destiny as well.” They both embrace and hold each other once again as they fall asleep together. The next morning, they pack everything up and put the fire out before trekking back through the icy tundra and back to the gate which protects the little men’s village. As the gates open, Padraig is standing there grinning as much as he possibly can. He rushes over to punch Ioan in the leg which promptly gets the bearded hairy beast to wince. “HA HA! You feel pain like you never have before huh lad? I have to say Winston, what you did for him is quite impressive. Ioan is a special man and I knew he would be compatible with you. Follow me ye mates so we can have a brief chat before you both return to your homeland.” As they follow Padraig to the rainbow, other little men stop in their tracks and talk amongst themselves as they stare at the two huge hulking muscle monsters which are only wearing the blankets they were lying on the night before as clothing. When they reach the area at the mouth of the giant rainbow, the machine that Winston rode on before stops just feet from where him and Ioan are standing. The little green-suited muscleman that brought them there makes a few gestures and pulls the blankets off them with his mind. They grunt a bit as their naked bodies are exposed to him. He smiles as he waves his hands and then makes a rising motion with them as the two muscle beasts feel their bodies being covered up by some very snug fabric. They both look down at their new clothing and look as if they approve. They then reach over to rub their hands on the fabric but not before Padraig runs over and kicks them. They both wince. “Don’t be getting all horny on me now lads, if you get all erect on me, your tools will probably destroy this getup I got ye both. Now, I just want to say congratulations to you both and I hope that you will enjoy your new lives together. Ioan…..it was a pleasure to raise you as me own and I am glad that you have found someone that will care for you almost as much as I have. Now you two get going.” Ioan waves goodbye to Padraig and gets on the machine as Winston decides to ask the elder a question. “Will I ever be back here again Paddy?” “Why there would be no reason mate. Your wish has been granted fully, moreso than probably three-quarters of the humans that have ever been here before. Ioan is your true love, Pierre was never going to be with you. Now enough chatter, get going so you and me son can start your life together.” After waving goodbye as well to Padraig, he gets on the machine as it quickly glides them across the mountain and over to the other side where the park is. They both get off the machine and stand back as they watch it disappear back over the mountain. The two muscle behemoths decide to stand motionless for a few minutes at the fountain as they notice how the water has a shimmer to it. They both feel snow beginning to fall as they lean up against each other. Ioan wants to jump into the fountain but Winston shakes his head no saying that they would probably be visited by Padraig if they did that. A laugh is heard above them as they walk over to sit down on a bench that is aimed directly at the fountain. The hunky bearded Irishman turns to look at Winston and says a few words. “I have another question for you mate. What do you want me to get you for Christmas?” Winston looks a bit confused but obliges him. “I thought I got my Christmas present already. It is you, is it not?” Ioan winks and then undoes his shirt and pants exposing his massive chest and cock. “Well…..maybe it is possible that I can ummmmm…..grow again. Paddy once told me that I was luckier than his other ‘sons’. There is a part of my mind that I haven’t tried to access yet so there is a possibility that I might be able to conjure up an additional power that I didn’t know I had Winston.” Winston gets extremely excited and rubs his partner’s huge pecs with his hands. “Well let’s try and figure this out then Ioan. I know I am certainly open to fulfilling a wish of yours if you want.” The two muscle beasts begin kissing each other again as the snow comes down even harder on top of them as the afternoon of Christmas Day arrives. This is the end of this story but there is always a chance that we may return to this world in the future.

Chapter one is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13680-the-company-chapter-1/ The Company Chapter Two He felt strange. He felt exhausted and empowered at the same time. The jacuzzi had stopped bubbling, and the UV lights were turned off. He felt different. He touched his shoulders and chest. Disbelief and excitement mixed in his mind, as he felt the sensation of hard, well-defined muscles. His hard, well-defined muscles. An hour ago he had been a wrinkled, fragile and shy octagenarian from a conservative mid-western town. To begin with, he wasn't fragile anymore. He remained in the hot liquid, and tried to focus. Bill, his PT, returned, cheerful and encouraging. The hot and damp air caused Bill's polo shirt to stick to his torso, revealing Bill's aesthetic, but not exaggerated, physique. He could feel desire arise. Before the treatment, he had felt impressed by Bill, and trusted Bill as a professional, and felt protective in the way he often did towards younger men – and most men were younger these days. Now he felt confused. Bill helped him up, out of the water, but, unlike the case when he entered the jacuzzi, he didn't need much help when he return out of it. Powerful legs stepped the metal stairs. A big hand clenched the handrail. The dressing gown didn't fit anymore, and Bill joked about it. By the sound of it, the joke wasn't new. No longer surrounded by liquid, he felt taller, and he felt unaccustomed to his new improved physique. He adjusted his stance, and tried to find a suitable posture. He felt more confident. It felt good. Bill handed him a plastic cup of mineral water. "You are probably dehydrated because of The Treatment, sir. You need water and sodium. This is ordinary mineral water. Do you feel dizzy?" He drank three glasses of water. The dizziness faded. Bill listened to his heartbeat with a stethoscope, and had his blood pressure measured. "Your clothes will be tailored for your new measurements, sir. Will you please step into the changing room?" His old clothes hang there. They were obviously too small now. Then he turned to the full-length mirror. Lust erupted. A wave of arousal surged through him. He noticed that he didn't need his glasses anymore, and the face, that stared back at him in the mirror, could have been drawn by his favourite erotic artist: Handsome, playfully charming in a masculine way. The face of men he never dared to approach. A powerful muscle rolled between his strong neck and his bulging shoulders – his nephew called it traps. The chest of a hero. Narrow waist – extremely so – contrasting to his broad shoulders and wide chest. Six hemispheric tiles formed a washboard. The wave of arousal intensified. The mirror image stared in disbelief, its blue eyes boyishly innocent in a baby face empowered by mature masculinity. Full lips. Cute nose. Dimples. And that face placed over the mature muscularity of a bodybuilder of – let's say – twenty-five years' experience. He couldn't believe it was his own reflection, but his reason told him it was. His mind drowned in rapture – he didn't know for how long – and he could feel his cock spasm pleasantly, and more powerfully than ever before. He opened his eyes. One hour ago, he would have been devastated by embarrassment of letting this happen in the sight of Bill, but now he only felt mildly sheepish. The mirror was stained by large spots of his own cum, which now slowly trickled down the surface of the mirror. "I'm sorry for that." Bill only smiled leniently: "In this profession I have seen everything, already. You are not the first one." He nodded towards a spray can of detergent in a corner. Without further ado, Bill used a measuring tape which had been there all the time. While Bill did what he had to do, the customer changed his stance and posture, looked at his reflection, and suddenly noticed a framed reproduction hanging in the changing room: It was one of Tom's drawings. An almost naked, but very confident, muscular young man having his measures taken at a tailor's, while an obese man, waiting for his turn, looking embarrassed. His cock awaked again. For which time, now? This time it didn't spew. Bill was soon finished with his job: "Oh, and another thing: In order to protect the anonymity of our guests, each guest is given a username during their remaining stay, by which they will be known by other guests. Do you have any suggestion, sir?" He had been told about the usernames before. "Is 'Tom' already taken?" "I'm afraid it is, sir. That is a very popular choice." He thought a few seconds. "What about 'Brett', then? Is that taken?" "No, I will immediately register the username 'Brett'." "Thank you, Bill." "Your gymwear and your chosen attire – I see that you have chosen the biker option (a classic one!) – will be delivered to your room within two hours. Many customers take a nap after The Treatment. Other guests take a shower. I am sure, that you will find a way to spend the waiting time. Before you go, will you please chose your underwear from the stand, and one of the big size bathrobes? None of the underwears were smaller than size L. Some of the styles were unfamiliar to him. Why not test something new? He finally found a leather jockstrap, took a look in the mirror and felt how his cock began to throb inside, rubbing itself against the leather. He felt dazed. This wasn't happening? The being in the mirror wasn't himself? Too good to be true? He girded himself with a very large white terrycloth bathrobe, and found a heap of large rubber slippers. Thus attired, he walked through the corridors. Brett walked through the corridors. He smiled. It felt unreal, but in a good way. Brett squeezed his manhood through the terrycloth and the leather. Brett needed a nap. And a shower. While he waited for his biker gear.

The teaser is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13634-teaser-for-the-new-story-the-company/ The Company Chapter One "What is it like? The Treatment, I mean." The elderly man sat in one of the restaurants owned by Physical Potential Foundation, and felt embarrassed and exhilarated at the same time. A young muscle-god had decided to sit down at his table, which caused a wave of mixed feelings. The younger man had obviously been through The Treatment already, and his shoulders unopposedly claimed the space of the opposite seat, as they protruded out of the sleeveless plaid shirt. Several upper shirt buttons were unbuttoned, and revealed a pec cleavage worthy an ancient statue. Even if his pecs were hard as marble, they were far from as pale as marble: A bronzed, hairless chest teased the elderly man with its body heat and whiff of anti-perspirant, but the most amazing thing with the other man was his eyes: Although men built like him had the opportunity to behave condescendingly or smugly, this man's greenish-brown eyes sparkled of fun and mischief, like sunlight through the foliage of beeches, reflected in a well. A smile, expressing relish, was upon his face above the powerful jaw and dimpled chin. The young man answered: "The Treatment is awesome. Some guests worry about pain during adjustment of their bone-structure, but you are given some sort of analgesic with the DNA-altering and hormone-stimulating formula. It will feel great. Don't worry, gramps. You will enjoy it. And you will have fun afterwards. Which option have you gone for?" The elderly man felt embarrassed again, and he could feel his willy awake inside his pants, hearing the description of The Treatment. His silvery white hair was wavy. His suit didn't look cheap, but it wasn't luxurious either. With his suit and tie, he looked slightly misplaced in the restaurant. Indirect daylight was admitted into the room, but the southern wall lacked any windows, and the air conditioners struggled. The walls were panelled, and wooden logs ran from one wall to another under the ceiling. Many of the other men eating dinner were dressed in black leather, and looked like the drawings he had enjoyed in the 1960s and 1970s. Other men were dressed in a way inspired by the army: Crewcuts, jarheads, camo trousers, dogtags. One or two cowboys looked displaced in the environment. Judging from the scents in the room, the preferred style of meal was steak, barbecue, grill. Although most of the dialects heard in the room came from one or another part of the States, the elderly man could hear the odd Canadian, British or Irish dialect now and then, and some men probably spoke with unidentifiable European accents. He had seen a, supposedly wealthy, Saudi arrive in traditional Arabian garb, and descend the stairs an hour later in tight denim jeans, sneakers and an expensive-looking slim-fitting t-shirt, and with a sturdy golden chain around his neck. One of the muscle gods was probably Hawaiian, and he guessed one of the pre-Treatment guests was a Filipino. "I have chosen Fountain-of-Youth and Option Two." The young man smiled, causing dimples in his cheeks, and the glittering joy in his eyes returned. "You will love it, I guess. You are old enough to actually have been able to meet Tom of Finland. Did you meet him?" The elderly man ate one of his fries, and smiled for the first time, though the smile was shy, and his ears became dark pink. Dark pink contrasted nicely against his silvery white hair. "I am not very experienced, I'm afraid. My life went by, and I didn't engage with the wider gay community, until very, very late. It took me a very, very long time to accept myself. The times were different." He fell silent for a few seconds, and then repeated: "The times were very different." His thoughts briefly drifted away. Memories. "Tell me. I'm curious. My great grandfathers died when I was too young to understand anything, but I have always wanted to hear more about the past." So he told him. The musty scent of an underground cellar, used to store food the first years of his life. Ice preserved under saw dust, but replaced by a very bulky and noisy refrigerator inside the kitchen a few years later. Bicycling as a child: Playing in the nearby prairie. President Roosevelt on the radio. Charlie Chaplin in the theatre. War news. New suburbs emerging. The outhouse replaced by an indoors bathroom with water closet, which was an improvement in the cold winters and warm summers. Magazines with comics or short stories printed on cheap paper, which aged quickly, and became yellow and brittle, and smelled dusty and funny. Meals from tin cans. Jazz music. President Truman on the radio. He didn't remember much from wartime. He was a teenager when the Korean war ended. There was something impressive about the veterans who returned home, but it had made him feel embarrassed. His family became wealthy enough to buy a car: A mint green one with large tails. He didn't do well in sports, but one of his best friends played in the football team, and protected him from bullying. His mother had been deeply religious, his father less so, but the entire family went to chapel every Sunday. Many years afterwards, he learned, that the chapel had been into social gospel decades earlier, and performed a lot of charity work in the past, but, at some time shortly before the war, a new preacher had arrived, and the congregation had taken a more revivalist turn. Lots of emotions during Sunday meetings, and bible readings from an incomprehensible translation. "God's own translation", as his mother had used to say. "Thee" and "Thou" and "Shalt". Especially "Shalt not". One Sunday after chapel, he had asked his mother: "What's a sodomite?" Her expression had become rigid and disgusted, and she had explained: "It's a sick and hell-bound man behaving unmanly and unnaturally, worse than a beast. Promise me to never, never talk about such things again." So he didn't. There was a lot of fear of nuclear war, and everyone feared the Communists. And everyone feared traitors within, like fags, who were supposed to be Communists, all of them. His parents had voted for Ike, and Ike won. "Ike was a war hero, and back then there was a realisation in Ike's party, that people of colour (as we used to say back then – I'm afraid that it doesn't sound polite today, but it was intended to be back then) still suffered, despite slavery had been abolished eighty years earlier. Ike's party was the party of Abraham Lincoln, who abolished slavery. The other party was frankly outright racist back then, at least in the south. The sixties changed all that in a way you youngsters don't understand. I voted for Nixon, because I sympathized with the civil rights movement, but Kennedy won. Must sound self-contadictory to your generation. Lyndon and Carter changed the party-allegiances in the south. Some people my age became beatniks. A few became hippies, though most hippies were many years younger than us. Some were drafted for Vietnam. I became an office clerk, and later an accountant." When rock and roll emerged, he had initially continued to listen to jazz music, but there was something dangerously rebellious and appealing with Elvis Presley. He spent a lot of time in the theatre, watching films. He had watched a film called The Wild One, starring Marlon Brando, and Rebel without a cause, starring James Dean (who wasn't much older than himself). And then there were a wave of slightly childish but entertaining films about ancient Greek heroes or ancient Romans: Hercules, Ben Hur, The Slave. Steve Reeves and Charlton Heston were big names back then. Since he didn't marry, he had a lot of time left for other things. In his leisure time, he joined the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks, which engaged in a lot of beneficial charity work. It was important to him, to assist less fortunate persons. Once or twice a year, he took a weekend trip to a big city several hours away, and visited an opera house: The bombastic music of Wagner telling stories about hero-figures like Lohengrin, Parzival and Siegfried spoke to him. It was an age of soap, cleanliness, mild colognes and horn-rimmed glasses. TV was something new then. People met at home and played bridge. He had a guilty pleasure: He read and collected a magazine called Physique Pictorial. It was supposed to encourage physical exercise, but he wasn't the sporty type of person. Anything else than golf or tennis would have been unthinkable in the social class he had entered in his adult and middle-aged years. He wasn't sure if it was intentional, but some of the artwork in the magazine, especially by someone called 'Tom of Finland', caused him to feel horny, despite the lack of women in the drawings. The drawings only depicted confident and very masculine men, especially lumberjacks, bikers and servicemen. At some time in the 1970s, he admitted to himself that his sexuality wasn't mainstream, but according to all men around him, fags behaved like queens, and the things he enjoyed weren't queenish at all, so he didn't know how to understand the matter of arousal and pleasure. In the 1970s and 1980s, the art of Tom became uncensored and explicitly sexual: Tall, powerful men in leather or uniforms pleasured each other. He felt guilty and ashamed, and the young schoolboy – in his past – repeatedly heard his mother's words – in the past: "Never, never talk about such things again." Sick and hell-bound? But not unmanly, surely: The beefcakes surpassed his old schoolmates (who didn't play football or baseball any longer), the straight men in the accountant firm, the straight men in the golf course, his straight brethren in The Elks. And the men in the drawings looked like they had fun. Not riddled by guilt. Just having fun together. Ultra-masculine fun. Homosexuals became more visible in society. The Stonewall riots must have happened in New York in 1969, but he wasn't aware of it at the time, and in rural small towns a lot of things went on as they always had. After hippies came disco, but he preferred opera. The number of television channels exploded, and became incalculable. It was an age of synthetic fabrics and too much sweat. Preachers in the chapels he attended preached against the increasing visibility of homosexuals, and talked about cures and therapy. AIDS happened, and he thought that it had been wise of him to avoid sex, otherwise something terrible could have happened to him. He felt embarrassed, guilty, full of shame, that he enjoyed Tom's art, but he noticed that Tom made an advertisement for safe sex. After disco came heavy metal and electronic music, but none of it appealed to him: He stuck with jazz music and opera, but he would listen to Bruce Springsteen now and then. It was an age of sporty anti-perspirants and young people with sticky goo in their hair. The hairy hairdos introduced by The Beatles and the hippies became unfashionable, and civilian young men began to favour crew cuts (or modern hairdos inspired by crew cuts). An increasing number of young men began to exercise, and it became usual to see wannabe bodybuilders in the stores and in the streets, and he felt embarrassed when he became impressed by, and aroused at, the sight of twenty year younger jocks (or even thirty year younger ones). In the 1990s, the advertisement industry abandoned any regrets against showing male nudity: Actors and soccer-players began to sell underwear. By that time, he had become decidedly un-political. The Soviet Union didn't exist any longer, and any difference between the major parties wasn't obvious. Since he didn't have any children of his own, he took delight in spoiling his nieces and nephews at Christmas and birthday parties. One of them, Brody, returned home from university at some point in the late 1990s, at about the same time as he considered retirement himself. Brody hadn't shown much of an interest in sports in elementary school, but had later began to work out in a gym, and, during university years, Brody had achieved an impressive physique. Brody had visited his uncle one of his first nights back home, and brought a bottle of Jack Daniels. Uncle had preferred something some more sophisticated, and they had each shared one balloon glass of imported French brandy, before they opened the bottle brought by Brody. "Better enjoy the brandy with taste buds intact.", as Brody had agreed. He remembered Brody as a rather shy and frail kid in the 1970s, brought up with Sesame Street and the usual fare, but the young man who now sat in the other armchair was a confident young male with a powerful chest. He had left his leather jacket inside the door, and was dressed in jeans, a sturdy leather belt with a conspicuous belt-buckle, army boots and a snug polo shirt. Brody had brought two cigars, and, after small-talk about many different things, they had – somehow – floated into quite private and personal matters. Brody had come out of the closet to his uncle, and Uncle had fallen silent for a while. Then he had told Brody his own story, and Brody had been very supportive. By the help of Brody, he had taken a few steps outside his comfort zone, and he began to donate to gay-right charities. He had decided to attend a more liberal and mainline church instead, and found that environment supportive. He remained a member of The Elks and the golf club, but he had lost some of his old business affiliates. He felt too old to look for a partner, but he enjoyed when Brody invited him to meet Brody's gay friends. Some of the young men had lost contact with their parents, especially Dads, when they had announced that they were gay, and he became an Uncle to several of them. He couldn't believe his ears when same-sex marriage was introduced. It was a few months ago, when Brody, now a successful middle-aged professional, had a talk with him about The Company and The Treatment. "One of my friends in the leather-scene consulted that company. The Treatment they give is unbelievable. I will probably give it a try when I become slightly older. They give something called 'Fountain-of Youth', and it is allegedly just what its called. Even men of your age return from the centres looking like several decades younger. To some relatives, it is rather shocking, but I thought, that it would give you a second chance, or at least an opportunity to spoil yourself. You deserve that, uncle. I will pay a part of the cost if you have any doubts." His awareness returned to the restaurant table. He watched the muscle-god before him and ate a few of his, now cold, fries. The handsome young man listened attentively. "It is hard to understand how it was in the past. It gets better, doesn't it?" - - - It was the day after. He was scheduled for The Treatment. He had been introduced to Bill, his PT, when he checked in yesterday, and it seemed like Bill was one of the men in charge of The Treatment. Bill was dressed in tracksuit bottoms and sneakers, a snug polo shirt and a white lab coat, and smiled at him. "The big day has come, Mr. A. I hope you will enjoy it, and we have several activities booked for you in the upcoming days. We also expect our guests to have fun with other guests, if they so prefer. You have Fountain-of-Youth selected, I see. It's one of our popular choices, especially among men of a certain age. Please drink the content of this glass and change into rubber slippers and a dressing-gown over here. I will be back, soon." He looked at the drinking glass, actually made of plastic. It contained a milky, yellow liquid. He tasted it. Vanilla, covering some bitterness. He took a deep breath and emptied it. Better done with it. He removed his tie and shirt, undershirt and trousers. The air in the Treatment department felt warmer and moister than usual, like a bathhouse. He let his underwear and socks go, and put his rubber slippers on. He still felt shy and vulnerable, wrinkled and fragile, as he now was naked under the dressing-gown. He moved the curtain aside, and entered the Treatment Room. A jacuzzi was sunk into the floor. Equipment indistinguishable from a tanning bed hang from the ceiling rather close to the jacuzzi. A scent of essential oils, reminding himself of some cologne, steamed from the surface of the hot water: A scent like wood, nuts, leather and citrus. Bill returned. "Will you please enter the water, Mr. A. I have seen naked men before, you can hand me the dressing-gown. Step carefully, so you don't slip. Yes, like that." Bill helped him down the stairs into the jacuzzi. "Now sit in a comfortable position, Mr. A, and I will repeat the information. You have been briefed twice before, but we use to repeat, in order to remove any worries. The formula you drank will alter your DNA, permanently increase your own production of certain hormones, and, since you have chosen this particular option, it will also help your body to rejuvenate. The formula in the water will activate the formula inside your metabolic system, and you will be sensitive to the ordinary UV light of the same sort given in tanning salons. During one hour or so, you will be able to absorb the energy of UV light and metabolize it into muscular tissue. Most guests find the process enjoyable. While you undergo The Treatment we will play some music from the loadspeakers, if you want. Did you chose any particular music when you filled in your form? Oh. Wagner, I see. Prelude to Tannhäuser? Now, just relax and enjoy the experience. I will leave you some privacy. If you feel strange, please press the alarm button hanging from the ceiling here." Bill left. The illumination went soft and dim. The jacuzzi activated, and hard jet streams of hot water began to hit his tensed back muscles and other parts of his body. The loadspeaker began to play Tannhäuser. The UV equipment in the ceiling lowered itself and activated: A blueish-purple light. He felt warm and comfortable. Relaxed, yet with some traces of worry left in his gut. A shiver of anticipation. A wave of warmth coming from inside, rather than from the surrounding hot water. Another internal wave of warmth. His bicepses tensed. Blood rushed to his willy. His quads tensed. His chest felt more... more present, in a way, like he had never noticed it in the past. Brody and his friends called the chest muscles pecs. He had pecs, too. He remembered the pecs of his old friend who had played American football in school – he had attended his funeral two years ago. He remembered the pecs of the men in the erotic art he enjoyed. He touched his own pecs. He could feel them grow. Uhmmmm. Grow. Pecs. He fingered one of his nipples, and moaned. The jacuzzi began to feel smaller, like it was shrinking. Then he realized, that he was growing taller, and, in the moment he realized that, his willy hardened into something probably better called a cock. He caressed himself with his right hand, and moved it to his mid-section, and he could feel six abs forming. Six marble-hard abs, like the young muscle-god yesterday. The jet streams intensified, and he became acutely aware of his physical presence, the extension of his body, and the increasing size of his now POWERFUL muscles and the delightful awareness of his own MASCULINITY. He had to tense and flex his bicepses. His legs. His bottom – what Brody used to call glutes? His back felt different. He moaned again. And again, louder now. It felt... He didn't know how to describe it, and he didn't need to describe it. He was absorbing the PURE POWER from the UV equipment, and turned it into STEEL-HARD brawn. He moaned again and thrashed around in the water, experienced spasms of movement, of flexing, of EMPOWERMENT. The Wagner music repeated for the third time. The prelude increased into a crescendo, and in his mind his ecstasy increased into a prolonged indescribable state of pleasure. He orgasmed once, twice and again. The pleasure never ended, but returned ever again in even higher states of intensity. He was no longer aware of his surroundings. Everything that existed was the triumphant background music, the pleasure that consumed every other thought, and the overwhelming EMPOWERMENT. Empowerment! Empowerment! Emp... Oh my God! Uhu uhu uhu uhu uhu uhu uhu uhu And the music climaxed too. - - - Chapter two is found here.

(deleted by the author)

Chapter One "Oh, you were able to come!" As Roger gave Henry the biggest hug ever recorded in history, his friend gasped "I'm not the Ultimate Musketeer" and as Roger let go he chuckled "Although I could be if you wanted me to!" "We'll save that for the masses!" smiled Roger and with that opened the doors to the SUV and as Henry and Roger piled in all the materials they would need for the Olympia, they jumped in and pointed in the direction of Las Vegas and said in unison "Olympia, HO!" and with that Roger gunned the engine and they were off *** "Your destination is 809 miles away" announced the sat nav as they left Fort Collins "and will take eleven hours and thirty five minutes!" "Wow!" exclaimed Henry, "you do realise that's the same as travelling from where I live to Aberdeen and about two thirds of the way back again. You were right when you said that America was a large country!" "A large country" smiled Roger, "with large men heading to a contest with even larger men!" and with that they both laughed before Roger said "So, how was the flight?" "Flight?" asked Henry, "what flight?" "The flight from the UK to here!" replied Roger "Really?" asked Henry raising an eyebrow, "why on earth would I want to waste money on a flight?" "You never!" gasped Roger to which Henry replied with a chuckle "I did" and with that stated his journey. "I left my home at midnight today" he started, "remembering of course that I'm seven hours ahead of you. I had my luggage with me and so wheeled it down to the beach where I live. Then, and considering it was now a quarter past midnight, I went to the beach hut I have and there I..." "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "you did, didn't you?" "...became the Ultimate Musketeer!" added Henry and as he did Roger roared "Oh, fuck, yeah. Go on, tell me what you did!" "Well, after wrapping the luggage onto my back, I dived into the Irish Sea and headed due south west until I got to the Azores a little after three in the morning my time!" "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "how fast were you going?" "I'm not sure, but give me a moment" and as he consulted his tablet he replied "About three times faster than an aeroplane, but then I always like to go full throttle when I start!" "And then where?" moaned Roger "Well, I took a right hand turn and headed towards the United States. I think I arrived in, oh, now what was it called?" and with that he looked at the map and said "Ah, yes, here we are, Beverly Beach in Maryland, and that was just about sunrise" "You swum the Atlantic in a little over twelve hours?" gasped Roger "Give or take, yes!" "Oh man, your heart must have been pumping!" "Two hundred and forty beats per minute" said Henry, "about the same as a brisk jog. And from there I ran all the way here" "How long?" moaned Roger, "or should I stop the car now and cum?" "Let's see" came the reply, "I arrived in Maryland at around seven in the morning eastern, so that's five in the morning mountain, we'd agreed to pick me up from the airport at eleven mountain so five hours!" As Roger moaned, he pulled the car over and started scrabbling for something. Pulling out what looked like a drinks bottle, he pulled out his eleven inch cock, thrust it into the bottle and moaned "Speed?" "Three hundred and thirty nine miles per hour" came the reply, "a little under half the speed of sound!" "OOOOOOHHHHHH, FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!" screamed Roger as he came into the bottle and as he orgasmed panted, "Tell Adam, the next time he visits, take the aeroplane. I don't think I'll be able to stand too many of his go it alone journeys!" "Hear that, Adam" said Henry tapping his head, "on the return journey we book a plane" to which Adam grumped in reply "That's not fair, you know I wanted to swim through the Panama Canal!"

The Introduction Nathan needed to get up for the day, but was already 30 minutes behind when he looked over at his bedside table as the alarm keeps ringing incessantly. The job he accepted just a few weeks before was very important to him but it also required him to travel all over the country for different contracts. He sells experimental drugs to medical research companies that have locations throughout the US. As he races out his apartment door, he manages to get into a taxi and arrives at the airport just barely on time. He had to skip shaving and grabbed a protein bar on his way there at a convenience store. Normally, Nathan works out when he is not on business trips which usually happens about twice a week. He wished that he had time to get a chest workout in but had to skip the gym this time because it was considered top priority. He boards the plane as soon as he gets there and tries not to get too mad at himself since it seemed like time was going too fast. He lands in Washington State a few hours later in a place he has never been to before. The address he was given by his supervisor was located about two blocks from the airport which seemed rather odd to him for some reason. He noticed where the facility was when he got into the taxi at the airport. He thought maybe he could have walked there, but he would have had to go to the hotel first anyway. He quickly dropped off his luggage there, changed into his nice work clothes, and grabbed his briefcase which contains the drugs he plans on selling to his client. He arrives at the facility and is immediately met by two very large men who recognize the briefcase he is carrying. He is directed into a lab area where a technician awaits. The tech takes the case from him and places it on one of the metal tables they are working at. They open it up and start examining the contents of the drug vials. The tech then motions for the two large men to grab Nathan by the arms and place him into a chair located behind the door to the lab. Nathan tries to fight to get away from them but is unsuccessful as the tech fills a syringe full of the drug and plunges it into his neck. He can feel it moving through his body as he begins to convulse violently. He can feel his body warming up quite rapidly and can’t control what is starting to happen to him. The two men holding him down can feel Nathan’s body reacting to the serum as both look up at the tech and look quite fearful. The tech smiles at them before racing out of the room with the briefcase in their possession. The veins in Nathan’s arms start to grow as well as the muscles just beneath them. His eyes turn almost entirely white as he watches his forearms swelling and lifting both of the big guys’ hands off his arms and the chair. He can hear the sounds of seams being stretched to their limits as the fabric strains under the weight of his swelling mounds of flesh. Both men press down harder on Nathan as their muscles bulge through their tight shirts. He feels his abs starting to press through his tight shirt as his pecs push the fabric even tighter as they attempt to free themselves. His anguish is becoming clear as the pain cascades through his body. His legs are swelling to the point that his trousers are now making loud creaking sounds. He screams in pain as his voice gets much deeper. He can feel his neck muscles swelling as they push themselves outward from the general area of his neck. The veins in his arms protrude as his biceps and triceps rip through the fabric in his shirt as the seams on his jacket slowly split open. His shirt underneath his jacket loses its battle and shreds open revealing his wide chest as his pec shelf continues to spread. His abs split a few times before thickening up into a bloated eight back. He can feel his trousers splitting open now as his quads spill out the sides and continue growing. His calves rip the lower half of his pants completely open. He involuntarily flexes his lats which push up against the chair as the entire back of his jacket rips off of him. It is impossible now for the big men to hold him down as he pushes them off of him and goes rushing out the lab door and bursts through the front lobby door into the street. He is now only wear his boxers which struggle to contain the immense package and huge bubble butt which hugs his backside. He is dazed and confused as he looks down at his body with bewilderment. Did these drugs do this to him? He was in decent shape to begin with, but his new size makes him feel so different. He wonders if this is permanent or temporary. He races down the street, gets into the hotel he is staying at, and races past the lobby and into his room. He gazes into the mirror in front of his bed and stares at his body while rubbing it down with his hands. He likes what he sees, but is still uncomfortable with this foreign substance swimming around inside him. He begins to think about the company he works for and wonders what exactly they needed him for in the first place. He has never actually met anyone from the company and is beginning to think that they set him up for whatever experiment this is. The Drug Company A company executive walks into the boardroom and hands the CEO a document. The CEO smiles and immediately tells the executive to leave the room. He pushes a button and a screen pops up from behind a wall across the room. When a connection is made, a man shows up on the screen and says to the CEO, ‘I suppose we have a match now otherwise you would not have contacted me right?’ The CEO grins and says, ‘the experiment is indeed a success and we will pick him up as soon as possible.’ His smile is unusual because he has two very long fangs that stretch down from the top of his mouth while there are two other smaller ones that on the bottom canines. The other man exclaims, ‘you have done well Domino, the royal clan will be pleased to see if this one will progress beyond the ones we already have.’ The connection is then ended and the screen disappears behind the wall once again. The CEO stands up and walks over to a corner window behind him. He looks up at the sky and looks directly at the full moon in between the stars. He knows that it is just a matter of time before he gets close to another howling cycle. Before he decides to just let it take him over, he hears a familiar voice getting closer to him. ‘Sir? I’m not interrupting you am I?’ Domino turns around to see who exactly is trying to get his attention. He seems a bit out of sorts, but knows that he can’t hold back what is going to happen to him. The other man comes up behind him and starts rubbing the thick brown fur on the CEO’s face. The well-dressed man feels himself calming down a bit from the light petting he is receiving. ‘Mmmm Valentin, I am glad you are here baby. I was about to let him take over when you came in. I know how much you revel in my wilder side.’ ‘Indeed sir. It amazes me how you can control him. I know you feel so good inside me when you become him.’ Valentin stops rubbing his face so Domino can return to focusing on his transformation. A couple of pops resonate from the man’s body as his lover runs his hands up and down the man’s shirt feeling his body starting to heat up. A few growls rumbling from the CEO’s throat as he feels the beast being summoned from within. ‘Val…..baby, it always makes me nervous when we do this. I really have to concentrate like hell to control him you know. He just wants to rip you to shreds most of the time, well….. until I am inside you.’ ‘I know sir, I can’t help myself though. *starts pulling his pants down and takes his shirt off* I love the beast as much as I love you Domino. He remembers who I am now so I am not worried about it anymore.’ The CEO’s body shakes wildly as he feels the body hair thickening up on his skin. The sweat cascades down his body as his legs begin cracking, making him fall to the ground. Valentin moves back a bit to watch his lover go through his metamorphosis. Domino agonizes as he feels his legs reforming as his feet lose their shape with his emerging paws and claws. The dress shoes he is wearing fall apart as thicker striated muscles start growing up along his hairy paws and hind legs. Val strokes his cock seeing the CEO’s legs swelling and stretching his pants to their limits before blasting through the seams revealing massively muscled furry quads that have retained a humanlike appearance. The changes are moving into Domino’s crotch making him groan deeply as he feels his cock transforming. A jet of blood goes flying into the air from below his tailbone as a tail emerges from his lower back. His ass bursts through the back of his pants before it is completely enveloped in a thick forest of fur. His anus pulses rapidly which draws Valentin straight to it. He knows the risks but doesn’t care as he gets down on his knees and plunges his tongue directly inside the swollen hole. The emerging wolf immediately tries to reach around to grab him but misses. Valentin jumps back and yells in fright for a few seconds. The wolfy side of Domino is taking over now as his chest and arms stretch his shirt to its limits. His back cracks multiple times as it appears his back is growing longer than before. His cock has grown a huge sheath over top of the human cock he still possesses. Val moans seeing it drool pre down Domino’s bloated wolfy legs. The loud growls from him would normally serve as a warning, but the love struck human wants him so badly that he is willing to take the risk once again. Finally, the CEO’s shirt rips in half as the heavily muscled wolfman’s chest appears. His arms pulse with newly grown muscle as his face struggles to maintain its shape. A few cracks are heard from within his skull as a muzzle forms while two ears emerge from his head. Several pools of blood form beside him as his human face falls off revealing the wolf that was hidden inside. He growls at Valentin and shows him his newly formed claws and paws on what were Domino’s hands. ‘Domino…..I love you sir. I trust you won’t kill me, I want to make love to you like we always do.’ He slowly walks back over to the brown wolf and gets down in front of the wolf’s sheath. He lightly rubs it’s thickly muscled legs which makes the animal growl and shutter at the same time. Valentin starts tonguing the sheath and shoves it down inside rolling it around and lapping up the pre its cock is dumping. The animal growls lightly and starts to moan as its cock begins to grow. Val feels it swelling as it pushes its way out of the sheath. He licks its sides making the animal grunt loudly. It shoots several jets of precum in the air which hits his human lover on the back. Valentin then gulps as much of the wolf cock down as he can and slowly sucks it feeling it thrusting inside his throat. The animal howls in lust as it grabs a hold of his legs with its powerful arms and runs its huge tongue up and down his hamstrings. The surprised human has never had this happen with him before as he moans loudly. The wolf’s tongue finds his ass and goes slithering inside his eager hole making Valentin submit to him immediately. ‘OH MY GAWD! Mmmm sir…..fuck yeah find my prostate please…..*feels its tongue searching for it and hitting just the right spot*……OH FUCK! OH FUCK! I AM GOING TO EXPLODE!’ The wolf remembers where his prostate is and slowly massages it over and over with its tongue. Valentin feels it swelling each time the wolf licks it as his body violently shakes and his balls and cock turn a dark purple. The wolf senses that he is about to erupt and tries to grab his cock with one of its paws. Valentin screams as he feels the massive flood racing through his prostate and into his cock. The wolf stops licking his insides and pulls his tongue out of his ass to flip him over. He shoves Valentin’s cock into his muzzle to drain him. He finally unloads down the wolf’s throat and tries not to panic as the animal has a tight grip on him. ‘Domino…..please don’t bite it off sir. I really want to keep it because it makes us both happy, don’t you think?’ The animal gulps a few times before running its tongue along Valentin’s cockhead to lap up what is remaining. The human sighs as he finishes cumming and hears to wolf growl before letting him go. The wolf’s cock is now fully erect and ready to blow as Valentin starts stroking it vigorously. The animal thrusts each time he does this as the pre gets a bit thicker. The eager human licks a bit of it and moans as he swallows the sticky spunk it drops while he massages its big hairy balls. ‘MMMMM feed me sir, I do love the taste of your cum.’ The animal howls as it tenses its powerful muscular body before it finally erupts. Valentin senses this and locks his lips on top of the engorged cockhead. He chokes as the huge volume of wolf seed goes barreling down his throat, face, and chest. Not wavering, he continues to suck on the thick tool making the animal howl again as it continues to shoot thick ropes of cum over and over again. It reaches down and grabs Val by the legs once again. He knows that the wolf is about to pound him into oblivion as he releases his mouth from the leaking pole and feels himself being pushed down on top of it. The animal holds him in place and starts fucking him rapidly while growling as it sits its muzzle up against his back. It runs its tongue up and down it before teasing his human lover by running its claws down the front of his chest making him shiver feeling them lightly rip the skin. He doesn’t feel very much pain though which makes him wonder what is happening. Tiny beads of blood start slowly trickling down his chest. ‘Please don’t Domino…..you are starting to make me wonder what your intentions are with me.’ Val can feel the animal’s cock swelling up inside him as it growls louder against him. It squeezes its powerful muscles around him as it howls deeply emptying its seed inside his human lover. The sensation sends Valentin into another realm as he moans lying up against the horny animal. Once Domino finishes cumming, he starts to revert back to his original form. Valentin feels his lover’s body cracking and reforming against him as he looks down and sees each claw break off as the bones and skin change back to their original shape. The muzzle that was leaning against his back breaks off and lands beside him which makes him cringe a bit. He feels Domino’s cock shrinking inside him as well. He reaches around and caresses his lover’s chest feeling the tacky skin as it continues to drip sweat heavily covering what appears to be a much bigger torso than he had before. Domino’s face has returned to normal as his eyes remain closed and he has a lot of thick facial hair now. Valentin pulls his lover’s cock out and turns around to check on him. He kisses him on the lips as the weakened man opens his eyes. His brown eyes immediately lock onto Val’s green ones and he squeezes him tightly. At this point, the werewolf is nearly done reverting back inside Domino. The remnants of the wolf lay all around them which sort of disgusts Valentin. ‘Yuck! I still can’t get past all of the dead stuff that comes off you Domino.’ Domino smiles and looks down at his body and notices something different. His muscles are considerably larger this time and he is much hairier. He bounces his pecs and tenses his arms making the veins stand out. Valentin moans grabbing both biceps and runs his tongue on both of his hairy pecs. The big hairy stud growls and picks his lover up to slide his cock back inside Valentin. The small assistant stops moving to speak. ‘Oh damn sir, is this such a good idea? You won’t change back again will you?’ ‘I promise baby, he got what he wanted I think. I don’t feel him trying to come out anymore, besides I think I have finally been able to keep some of his more alluring attributes. I am so much bigger now and my balls feel like they are going to constantly fill up. *notices a few scratches on Valentin’s chest* OH NO! He scratched you! Are you going to be okay baby?’ ‘I will be fine sir. He has pumped a lot of cum inside me before as well. I seem to be immune to his virus as you have called it before.’ Domino reaches down to lock his lips on Val’s and starts to fuck him slowly and lovingly. The full moon starts to dissipate behind the clouds as the two lovers continue to have sex with each other. It is not known exactly why Valentin has not changed into a wolf himself, perhaps he also has a secret that he hasn’t revealed to anyone yet. After having a night of letting the wolf roam free, Domino meets up with the board of directors for a late meeting to announce the unveiling of the new experimental drug that they have been developing for several months. The briefcase that was previously in possession of Nathan has now ended up in the hands of the CEO. He opens the briefcase to show off the four remaining vials of the drug to the executives. He proceeds to take out another vial and asks for a volunteer. When no one raises their hand, he turns to his assistant Carlos who is standing off to the side and motions for him to come and stand in front of him. Carlos immediately recognizes what he is intending and wants no part of this. He tries desperately to leave but is unsuccessful when he is led back into the room by company security. Domino laughs a bit when he sees this happening before he starts talking again. ‘My assistant is just a bit shy. He will enjoy this more than he realizes, he just doesn’t know it yet.’ Domino plunges the syringe into Carlos’ neck and pumps him full of the clear fluid. It isn’t long before Carlos feels the effects and starts to change physically. His chest expands rapidly as it makes tons of popping and cracking sounds. His arms stretch his olive-colored skin to its limits as the veins instantly grow into garden hoses. His shoulders and back muscles shred his shirt instantly as his legs completely bust through his pants without a second thought. The pain is extremely excruciating for him which makes the board talk amongst themselves as they watch his extreme growth cycle. It just stops short of being too much for his boxers to handle as he nearly loses consciousness from the ordeal. ‘This is our breakthrough ladies and gentlemen,’ Domino tells the board. ‘We have the power to turn ordinary men into supermen like him if we continue to develop this serum.’ He turns to motion for security to come back over once again and has Carlos led into the next room before he is taken to the top floor for further evaluation. The board stands from their seats and begins applauding for several minutes. Domino waits until they finish before he provides them with the information they need to continue the research. The drug is approved shortly thereafter for continuation and will be distributed among their lab facilities before they are finally ready to be sent to the FDA for approval. End of Part 1