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  1. 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 NG "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 Chapter 18: Inside Zaftig’s Lab: The Musclemen Revealed February 10th, 2018 2020 Hours “Are we all here?” asked Zaftig. “Get on with it, man,” said Admiral Walrus testily. “We haven’t got all night.” “Of course. Dr. Irving, are the men ready? They are? Good. Then bring the subjects in.” Dr. Irving moved quickly to another set of double doors that were marked “To the Showers”. He opened the door, and a red light next to it began to signal. “Come in, gentlemen,” he called. A few moments passed. A few in the assembled ranks of waiting officers and adjutants shifted nervously from foot to foot. The sound of distant footsteps, growing closer. The Twenty entered the room in single file. Their audience gasped involuntarily. The Twenty were an awesome sight. All were dressed in tight white t-shirts with “Valhalla Labs” printed across the chest. All wore insanely tight white jeans, white socks and tightly laced black leather Army boots. The men marched across the room to the left in perfect cadence, snap-turned and faced the Officers at full attention. The sight was ungodly to behold. The men were of different nationalities and ages, and they varied in height. One or two were of average height, and one was unusually short. Three were as tall as Casey. The black man at the head of the line was the tallest and biggest of all, nearly 7’-0”. Four others were black, two Asian, the rest Latin or white. Each man was unusually handsome and clear eyed. All boasted extreme mass and astonishing muscularity. Their shoulders were broad and wide, their traps sloped down from thick necks, and their powerful chests rippled with power in their tight t-shirts. They all held their heavily sinewed arms at their sides, again with thick thumbs slightly crooked inward, as if pointing at the looming, floor-pointing bulges pouting behind the flies of their skin-tight white jeans. “Project Herculaneum reporting for inspection, Dr. Zaftig,” barked the tall black man. “Thank you, Sergeant Moster,” said Zaftig. “I think we’re all here. Private Rockland, will you step forward, please?” Sam looked down the line-up. There stood Casey in the flesh, the fifth man down. He looked over at Zaftig, and then shot a quick, questioning glance at Sergeant Moster. He seemed surprised and a touch uncertain to have been called out, looking slightly right and left at his fellow musclemen. No one else moved. He stepped forward. “Sir,” he said, quietly. “Come here, Private.” Casey started to cross the room when he caught sight of Sam, who was watching him evenly. His step never slowed, but eyes lingered a moment on Sam’s face. Sam was all attention. “Strip down for us, Casey.” “Yes, sir.” Unhesitatingly Casey stripped off his tight white Valhalla Labs t-shirt, which popped slightly and deflated with a rush of air when released from his mammoth shoulders. He turned away momentarily and bent over to unlace his boots. All were drawn to the mountainous glutes, the double pockets strained over rocks of muscle, the seam of his jeans sharply marking the likely deep butt crack beneath. Casey stood, turned back, and undid the top button of his jeans. He unzipped the looming zipper. With difficulty he pulled his pants down over his thick quads, looking up a little embarrassed at his clumsiness. “Casey has troubles undressing sometimes,” explained Zaftig with a paternal smile. “He needs clothes that vanish at the push of a button,” muttered General Needling. “Boots next, Private,” said Moster. “Yes, sir,” said Casey. Sam thrilled at the sound of his deep, resonant, mysteriously shy voice. Casey stepped out of the boots, pulled the jeans down the rest of the way, and kicked everything away. He was wearing the white Spandex poser, which fully revealed the top 6 inches of the shaft of his massive organ. His huge penis spilled forward a few inches before disappearing into the smooth synthetic mesh pouch. Now Sam could see that the fabric was translucent, and the shadows of heavy cock veins pressed outward. He wondered for a moment why Casey bothered to wear it at all, but conceded it was probably a pale gesture towards some feeble sense of modesty. Or perhaps more likely, his big baseball balls were just so damn heavy he could use the extra support. Wow, he thought to himself. “Show our guests some poses, Casey,” said Zaftig. Casey nodded, took a step away, and complied. Standing before the Officers, Casey opened his huge arms wide. He balled his hands into fists and angled them toward the group and held the pose a moment. Then he slowly stepped right, and spreading his mammoth legs wide apart, he slowly curled his arms up into a freaky double biceps pose. “Thank you. Hold that pose, please, Casey.” “Yes sir.” Casey stood motionless, his arms steady and upright, his biceps flexing mightily. He didn’t quiver. His eyes flicked back in Sam’s direction for an instant, and then he returned his gaze front. Jesus H. Christ, thought Sam. He’s flexing for me. He grinned lazily across the lab floor at Casey. Casey didn’t respond, but after a moment he pivoted ever so slightly towards Sam. He raised his square jaw just a mite. His massive biceps rippled a little, and grew even a little more, slowly gaining even more size, glowing more intensely, bulging all the more fiercely. Sam smiled. Casey turned his eyes away and resumed his gaze straight ahead, as a single creek bed of sweat appeared in the split head of the flexing left biceps, making its molasses-slow, thick journey down the front of the rocky peak. “Project Herculaneum has been entirely financed by a few private anonymous investors,” Zaftig was saying now. Sam roused himself back to attention. “No public moneys have been siphoned to create the magnificent specimen you see before you now. Casey – and indeed, all these other 19 men we have laboriously trained and developed here at Valhalla Labs – hasn’t cost the United States government so much as a thin nickel.” “I’m interested in his other dimensions,” came a comment, seemingly from nowhere. Sam looked around, wondering who would dare at this moment to refer to the obvious. The other aides froze with tension, but it wasn’t clear who spoke. “Who said that?” screamed Walrus. Two or three of the musclemen smiled a little, and one, an unusually short pretty boy, snorted. Sergeant Moster glared at them, and their smiles faded instantly. Zaftig beamed. Dr. Irving pushed his heavy glasses up his nose, and fumbled with his clipboard. Walrus turned back to Zaftig and then spluttered. “Damn it, no man should be this big! And why the hell are you showing him to us with no goddamn clothes on?” His aides twittered nervously. Emboldened by the ownerless comment, the room lit up with flashes from a few iPhone cameras. “Goddamn it!” roared Walrus, turning around. “This is supposed to be a secure meeting! Turn those damn phones off!” The phones promptly went dark. I should have made them check their phones at the door, Zaftig thought with a sardonic inner smile. He turned to his audience and smiled, all innocence. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice bubbling with feigned surprise and ill-concealed glee. It was all going just as he had hoped – that is, except for the question of Casey’s I.Q., a subject he fully wished to stonewall for the evening. “I apologize. I didn’t consider the fact that you might be offended. I wanted to personally display Casey for you in his full magnificence.” His eyes glinted towards Dr. Shaft, who was pulling nervously at his tie. “What do you think, Dr. Shaft?” he asked. “Impressive. Most impressive,” Shaft mumbled. Zaftig took a few steps around Casey, who towered over him. “Casey, front lat spread,” he ordered quietly, and Casey’s pose shifted, his fists tucked in his sides, his pecs raising up, and his impossible lats flaring wide. He still gazed straight ahead. “Side chest.” Casey pivoted sharply left on his heel and brought his left arm up behind him. He caught the wrist of his right arm at the small of his back and cocked the heel. His triceps ballooned as his pecs expanded. His cock had quivered a little with the turn, and it slowly swayed and came to rest. “Casey’s chest measures 68 inches. Let’s see your back, Private,” Zaftig went on. Casey pivoted again, and there they were – the huge glutes, huge, hard and full. He tucked his hands into his obliques and his blew his lats to their widest expanse. Next to Sam, Tyler was fumbling a little with his fly. Sam didn’t even bother now to arrange his package. His erection thumped in his slacks, poling outward. He glanced at the other aides. Growing bulges were appearing in all their trousers. “Thank you, Casey, you can turn back now. As Casey turned around, Zaftig paced casually. “I see you all may have noticed Casey’s unusually large, well-developed organ,” Zaftig said offhandedly. “Casey, and indeed, all of the men you see here tonight have been blessed in much the same way. Do you feel blessed, Casey?” Private Rockland, surprised to be spoken to again, snapped into attention. “Sir, yes, sir,” he said, his eyes straight ahead. Zaftig turned a little and winked at the group. “And you’re blessed for what reason, Casey?” Zaftig asked. “Sir, that I have a big penis, sir,” said Casey. Holy Shit, Batman, thought Sam. Next to him he could see Tyler staring at Casey as if hypnotized. Zaftig laughed. “An unusually big penis, Private Rockland. Sergeant Moster?” he boomed suddenly. From 1st place in the line up, the Prototypes leader, the huge black super heavyweight, who had entered the room first, stood at sudden attention. “Yes, Dr. Zaftig!” he barked. “Are you blessed, too, Sergeant?” “I am even more blessed than Private Casey, Sir!” “And why is that?” “I am more blessed because both my muscles and my penis are even bigger than Private Casey’s, Sir!” “How much more blessed are you than Private Casey?” “Much more blessed, Sir!” Moster shouted. “Splendid. Thank you, Sergeant Moster. Men?” “Yes, sir!” they shouted in unison. “Are you all blessed, soldiers?” “Yes, sir! We’re all blessed, sir!” This is too much, thought Sam. I’ve died and gone to heaven. He shot a look to Walrus. The old man can’t take much more of this, he thought. “Casey, please demonstrate with a full routine of mandatory poses. Start with front double biceps.” “Yes, sir!” Casey complied, silently reeling off pose after pose. “You should all be aware, gentlemen,” Zaftig went on, “that we have remanded Casey – and all of the men, in fact - from any sexual encounters of any kind.” Behind the posing Casey, the musclemen stared straight ahead, and made no move. No one even snickered. No sex? What was that? Hunh? Sam turned and stared at Casey. He hadn’t wavered, but again he turned his eyes full on Sam. His face was blank, his look impossible to read. Was it an invitation? A threat? Or nothing at all? Sam just didn’t know. He glanced down at the impressive cock filling out the tight spandex posers, and brought his eyes back up. Casey, now in a most muscular crab pose, shot a quick look at him, and glanced down at his own package shyly. His gaze returned, quizzical, wondering. “Sexual relationships are a distraction. Because the men all have needs, as do all humans, we have organized regularly scheduled periods of masturbation. Dr. Irving and Sergeant Moster lead these sessions, under the most extremely controlled laboratory settings. The necessary psychological stimulant material for each man varies, of course. The confidential information has been determined by Dr. Irving in collaboration with Sergeant Moster, and is applied to each subject through headphones and situational simulating helmets calibrated individually. These sessions are critical, as each man has an average ejaculation proponent of the equivalent of six quarts per week.” “Okay, now I know that’s goddamn impossible,” grumbled Walrus. Sam was dazzled. The rest of the group was too stunned to speak. Sweat was now pouring down Dr. Shaft’s face. Ensign Tyler turned beet red. Two or three aides were taking frantic notes. The others just stood and stared and tried to ignore their crotches. “The men you see before you all have Casey’s extreme gifts. In different proportions, different heights, weights, and ages perhaps, and at different bodyweights. But all have the same superbly developed physiques and physical skills. Men!” he said suddenly, turning to the group. “Strip down, please.” The men seemed to hesitate. All looked to Sergeant Moster. “You heard the man,” he growled. “Kick ‘em off!” He began to unbuckle his belt. At his command, all of the men remaining the line-up began to strip. The tight t-shirts popped as if in unison as they were released from the massive upper body of each man. The boots were unlaced and pushed away. 19 belts hit the floor, and 19 pairs of skin tight white jeans followed. Beneath, all wore the same barely restraining white Spandex posers. Cocks and balls bulged forth, each man spilling half a foot of visible cock into barely sheathed pouches. Sam felt a dribble of precum shooting in his pants. “Arms behind backs!” barked Moster, clearly now the leader of the group. He turned to the audience and became one with his men. The Twenty placed their hands behind their lower backs. “Spread legs!” All spread their legs wide, shooting their right legs out in choreographed unison. In front, Casey did the same. “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 Walrus. He fumbled with his watch a moment. The lineup of 20 men stood before the small group, all flexing with massive front double biceps power. “Sergeant Moster, step forward please,” said Zaftig. “Next to Casey. The rest of you, hold the biceps pose.” The black muscle god brought his arms down strode slowly across the room. 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. Casey didn’t glance at Moster. He stood gazing straight ahead, his arms up and steadily holding biceps pose. “You’ll note that Moster is taller than Casey. He is, in fact, far and away the biggest man here – so he has become this squadron’s de facto leader. Moster is the old man of the group – how old are you, Moster?” “44, sir!” barked Moster. He stood beside Casey, flexing. His arms looked to top 29 inches in girth. Sam reacted with some surprise. Moster appeared to be no more than 27. “I have been working with Moster for more than a decade,” said Zaftig. “He weighs 390 pounds and is 7’ tall. When he first came to me a decade ago, in 2015, he was already an Olympian. It took us years to get the poison of those primitive muscle-enhancing drugs out of his system. But the results have enabled him to realize a depth of definition and a degree of strength unachieved as of yet in any of the other men. Moster,” he asked, turning to the sergeant, “let’s all see a little demonstration of your strength.” “Yes, sir!” Without hesitation, Moster brought his arms down and walked purposefully across the room to the doors marked ‘Showers’. He grabbed a single door and quite effortlessly ripped it from his hinges. Then he turned, door tucked under his right arm, and approached the group. Everyone backed away just a little. “This is circus stunt, Zaftig,” sneered a retreating Dr. Shaft. “Any circus strongman could do this. And how do we know the door was not prepared in advance?” Moster said nothing, but walked straight to Dr. Shaft. “Good evening, Dr. Shaft,” he said, winking. “Nice to see you again.” “Er – good evening, Rod – um, Sergeant. I didn’t mean anything personal…” “I’m sure of it,” said Moster. He flexed his left biceps for Shaft and smiled. Shaft stared at it and, not quite knowing what he was doing, licked his lips nervously. Moster rotated his fist back and forth and popped the biceps head a little. Then he brought his arm down, and offered the door. “Would you like to hold this, please?” He offered the door to Shaft. Shaft tried to take it, but the weight of it was too much for him. He dropped it to the floor, barely able to hold one corner. “How heavy would you estimate this door to be?” he asked politely. The others watched, slightly stunned. The musclemen remained serene. “I…I don’t know…. 80 pounds?” “This door, with hardware, weighs 108 pounds. How thick would you say the wood to be?” Moster’s questions were politely posed. “Two inches?” “The door is actually 2-7/8s inches thick.” Moster took it back from him as if taking a feather. He held it up before him with both hands. Zaftig suppressed a smile. He knew what Moster had planned. Sergeant Rod Moster began ripping the door in two, just as if he was tearing paper. The wood roared in protest. Rrr-ii—ii-pppp! In 10 seconds he was done, each thick hand holding a splintered shard of door. In what seemed a single move, he suddenly hurled each section of the door away from him – in opposite directions. Each door half flew 20 feet across the room and slammed into the floor with echoing clatters. It was too much for Zaftig’s audience. Ensign Tyler moaned, and Sam knew the jerk had just shot a load in his pants. He wasn’t alone. A few quiet cries rose from the group. Sam held back. He always did have great control. He grinned and winked at Tyler, who at least had the class to grin back and shrug. “Shit happens,” he murmured to Sam. Sam chuckled. “Not to me,” he said. The rest of the crowd was in something like mass hysteria. “Damn it, Zaftig,” shouted Walrus. “You’ve gone too far!” “Why?” asked Zaftig calmly. “After all, it was our door.” Behind him, the 19 other men did not move, frozen, legs spread wide, holding their mighty biceps pose. Sam knew they couldn’t have helped but realize that about 10 men watching them had just cum in their pants. The men in the audience looked miserably down at the cream spreading across their uniformed trousers. Tyler glanced helplessly at Sam. And still, Sam had not cum. He had more control. He grinned at Tyler. Tyler shrugged and smiled. Oh, well, he mouthed. Admiral Walrus was not one of them, either. In fact, he had had it. “Zaftig, I want to talk with you!” he screamed. “Now!! In your office. Gentlemen, you will accompany me.” He turned to the enlisted men. “Men, wait for us outside. And,” – he couldn’t help himself - “it would seem that a couple of you babies need to go clean yourselves up. Ensign Victor! You stay here.” “Relax, Men,” said Zaftig. All brought their arms to their sides. “Men, get dressed. Sergeant Moster, take the men back to their rooms. We’re done for this evening.” The shooters in the audience were humiliated but relieved at the same time, more than half of them looking around a little sheepishly. “The rest room is down the hall,” said Dr. Irving. Eight men, Dr. Shaft among them, headed to the door. "Shaft, you're going nowhere," barked Walrus. Dr. Shaft stopped in the door and waited, shifting from foot to foot, the cream from his shriveled little cock melting into his skinny thighs. “You heard the man,” ordered Moster. “Pick it up! Let’s get moving!” The musclemen relaxed, Bent and gathered their clothes. Adjusted huge cocks in posers. Casey turned slowly and walked back to his own pile of discarded clothing. As he went, he absent-mindedly scratched the back of his head. Sam watched him go. His glutes rolled his boulders as he paddled, bow-legged, across the floor. Sam watched his mammoth, perfect butt as he went. It’s all a little confusing, isn’t it, Casey boy? Sam thought to himself. Don’t you know what just happened? Is it all a little more than you can understand, son? Casey picked up his clothes and shambled back into line with the others. He glanced again at Sam, and for the first time Sam noted that Casey was just a little bit cross-eyed. “Why, you poor dumb baby,” Sam said softly to himself. “You’re just a kid, aren’t you?” The musclemen filed out of the lab through the splintered empty doorway. Walrus grabbed Sam’s sleeve and took him aside. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but I sure as hell intend to find out,” he snarled, looking back at Zaftig, who was conferring with Dr. Irving. He turned to the Ensign. “Sam, you’re smart. I want you to slip away from the group and track down some of these guys. Start with that blond big boy. Find out his story. What the hell is he, a test tube baby? Zaftig’s lab rat? No grown man should be walking around this goddamn bunker wearing only a little white handkerchief with his fucking balls hanging out, flexing and posing for himself in the mirror.” “Yes, sir. I don’t see any mirrors, sir.” “Damn it, man, don’t take me so literally. That’s what this big bodybuilder guys do, just walk around all day long flexing their muscles for themselves in the mirror. It’s goddamn gay, that’s what it is. The military doesn’t need that –“ “Actually, sir –“ “Don’t interrupt me. Okay, it doesn’t matter if he’s gay or not, if you’re going to get all P.C. on me, but I want to know who the hell these men are and what Zaftig has them doing. These aren’t soldiers from any regular Army I know about. They’d be hopeless in the Navy.” “I believe Zaftig is also in talks with the SEALS.” “Is he now? Is he now? Fine, let it be their problem. But in the mean time I want to know what this so-called protocol is. It isn’t natural! It isn’t even human.” “They looked pretty human to me, sir.” “Project Herculaneum. My ass. Group discipline shot to hell. Go ahead, get moving. I want you to follow these men and find out something about them. Even if it isn’t taxpayer money, this facility ought to be shut down. Goddamn it!” Sam wondered for a moment why the old man was so enraged. Old man sure has a bug up his butt. Hmmm. What’s that about? He let it go for the moment, filing it away as back-story, to be continued. Zaftig approach. “Admiral Walrus. Shall we go to my office? I believe you want to discuss what you’ve just seen.” Behind him Dr. Irving was unlocking a drawer and pulling out files, checking them hurriedly. I wonder what he’s looking for, thought Sam. “You’re goddamn right I want to discuss it. Men, follow me.” Half his retinue had already left the room for the nearest men's room, to take care of cleaning up - and perhaps more business. “Goddamn it!” he swore again. He started to head back to the auditorium. "Shaft, you're coming with me!" "Yes, sir," said Dr. Shaft weakly. “Admiral Walrus?” said Zaftig with preternatural sweetness. “This way.” He started toward a far door. “My office is just through here.” He walked to the door without looking back. The others hesitated and glanced at Walrus, who stared for a moment, and then stomped after Zaftig. Drs. Shaft and Irving followed hurriedly behind. As Walrus went he turned back to Sam. “Get moving, Ensign.” “Yes, sir. With pleasure, sir.” "I mean now!" "I'm on my way, sir." And he went through the door down the long, white corridor, where only moments before, the twenty muscle giants had disappeared.
  2. Most recent chapter: Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped Chapter 15: Casey’s First Interview with Sergeant Moster In the main building, Gunst, dressed in regulation baggies and sweatshirt, was waiting for Casey and Moster with a set of keys. As directed. “Good morning, private,” said Moster. “Good morning, sir.” “Hey,” Gunst said to Casey, a little cool. “Hi,” said Casey. Right away he was intimidated by Gunst’s size. “Got everything?” Gunst asked him. “Wha-….yeah. I got everything.” “Take him to his quarters,” said Moster. “Casey, come to my office after you’ve moved in. 3:30. I want a few minutes with you before you meet the men this afternoon. My office is over there. Red door. I’ll see you then. And don’t be late.” He strode away, without waiting for an answer. “Yes, sir,” said Casey meekly, watching him go. Gunst gave him a hard smile. “Let’s go, then. To your new home.” He turned and walked to the end of the main hall. Casey stared, hypnotized by his thick traps, his broad batwing lat spread as he strode away, and then coming back to himself, hurried to catch up. Gunst led Casey down several long corridors. They turned right, turned left, passed about 10 doors, turned right again. Casey began to worry that he was going to get lost in this huge place. Then Gunst stopped. He unlocked a door. “Welcome. Your quarters. Enter and sign in.” He held the door open for Casey, who hesitated. “No, after you.” “Okay.” Gunst went in, and Casey followed him, his heart beating wildly. His new room was a single. Though it was not the first time in his life he’d had a room to himself, this one was big, and it was all his. The ceilings must have been 12'. All the ceilings in the Home were that high. But this was different. He was speechless. There was a main living room with two deep comfortable sofas, a wall of full-length mirrors, a large posing dais with lights, a big dinner table, a desk and four deep, cushy chairs. There was an entirely serviceable open kitchen, a broad glass door to an outside enclosed private terrace, a sizeable bedroom, and big bathroom with an extra-large shower with about 100 different nozzles and spigots, and what looked like an second, somewhat squat toilet. That, he couldn’t quite figure out. “What’s that?” he asked Gunst, pointing to it. “Your bidet.” “My wha-?.....” “Cleans your butt. You’ll need it.” “I keep clean.” Casey was offended. Did they think he was an animal? “Trust me.” The bed was a super king, broad and deep, with a mirrored ceiling so he could see his muscles as he woke up in the morning. The bright terrace continued outside the bedroom with a second entrance, and was open to the sky. The rooms were filled with light, but there was no view. No one would have been able to see in. Casey was a little disappointed. He’d hoped he could see down the mountain, and maybe even the Pacific roiling in the distance. In the corner opposite the terrace door stood the 6 8’-0” 3-paneled mirrors, in front of the dais. Overhead, spotlights were aimed at the dais. In front was a brand new video camera on a tripod. Casey regarded it a moment. “Wow. A camera.” “Yeah. We all get em. Record your progress. Tape your posing.” “This is no bullshit,” Casey breathed, stunned. “No, no bullshit. They’re serious. It’s all about muscle and getting bigger. Hop on, sport,” said Gunst., indicating the dais. He switched on the overhead lights. Cool spots of filtered white-rendered LED light shone from above. Casey stepped onto the dais and gazed at himself in the center pane of the mirror. In his reflection, his t shirt clung sweatily, his superhuman muscles rippling powerfully. He was transfixed at his reflection. “Wow,” he said, whistling. “Ain’t you seen yourself before?” “Not like this.” “Well, you’re big, dude. Real big. Big and hard. Zaftig and Moster got special plans for you.” He paused a moment while Rockland raised his arms and slowly flexed a front double biceps into the mirror. Shit, thought Gunst. His arms look bigger n’ mine. Fuck. His eyes drifted down to Casey’s perfect bubble butt, covered by his grey baggies. A deep butt crack pulled the loose fabric tightly into the shadows of his ass. “Awesome glutes.” “Thanks, man.” Casey now at work, working his way through his mandatories. He glided from pose to pose with ease. Gunst half-smiled, and took a step towards the door. He’s just a kid, he thought. A superhuman huge kid made of muscle, yeah, but just a kid. “You know how to work the camera?” “No,” said Casey, admitting it, humiliated as he always was at being so dumb. Gosh, I’m dumb, he thought. “It’s easy. Come down here.” Casey stepped off the platform and moved close to Gunst. As always he was intimidated, standing next to muscle bigger than his, but he said nothing. Gunst felt the heat wafting off the kid but studiously ignored it. He showed Casey the video cam. “Switch on here. Battery will always be charged. They’ll do that for you. Open the LED screen like this.” Gunst pushed a button and the screen flipped open, a little blue wall with menu items printed. “Then push this.” He pushed another button and the red blinking light and the REC menu appeared in the window. “Awesome.” “You following this?” “Yeah.” Actually, he was. After all, this was how he was going to record his own muscle. Of course he was following. “It’s aimed and focused to the dais and set for the proper lights. Switch off the room lights when you use it for best res.” “Okay.” “Got it?” “Yeah.” Gunst doubted it. “Okay, man, I’m gonna split now. You settle in. Be in the gym and ready to work at 1600 hours.” “Okay.” Casey studied the camera and then thoughtfully stepped back on the dais without switching it on. “That’s 4 PM.” “Okay.” “It’s noon. You got four hours before training and three and a half before you meet Sergeant Moster for debriefing in his office. Remember where his office is?" "Yeah." He didn't. Gunst smirked a little. "Go out the door, turn left, head to the main corridor, turn left again. Walk to the bulletin board past the cafeteria entrance. Turn right. Red door." "Okay." Casey was looking at himself in the mirrors. He wanted to pose some more. He thoughtfully flexed a powerful forearm, inspecting cables of veins. Gunst gave up. After all, it was his ass. "Eat and get some rest. Check out your refrigerator. They prepared some meals for you. Have a couple of steaks and a few chickens.” “Okay,” said Casey, already dreamily posing for himself. He hit another double bi. He was headed back to his distant mountain on his private planet. Gunst watched Casey as he hypnotically posed. Damn, the kid looked good. Casey slipped out of his shirt and threw it on the floor and hit a crab shot. Gunst, impressed in spite of himself, shook his head, and headed for the door. “Don’t wear yourself out, dude. Four hours. Three and a half, really.” “Okay.” "Take a shower. You stink." "Okay." Gunst started out. “Can I ask you a question?” Casey asked shyly, stopping his posing a moment. “What?” “How much you weigh?” Gunst smiled, hard faced. “375,” he said. “Shit, man.” “Yeah. You?” “310.” “So I’m bigger.” “Yeah,” said Casey. Gunst turned to go. “For now,” Casey added. Gunst looked back at him and grunted noncommittally. He left the room, closing the door, leaving Casey alone to ponder the wonders of his own physique. “Damn,” he breathed quietly to himself. That dude is huge. But then again, Casey hadn’t entirely realized that he looked this good. Good, yes. But not THIS good. As Gunst walked back up the corridor to his own room he felt a sudden impulse to run off to the gym again and spend the next hour doing punishing curls. For now?? The little asswipe actually had the balls to say this to him? But he knew it was true. It was just for now. This kid could surpass everyone. Including Moster. P21 may have been a miracle drug, but muscle recovery was still necessary, and as it was Gunst had spent a good hour just the night before curling hundreds of pounds. But damn. That kid’s biceps were sick. Sick. Unreal. He had to get his bigger. Bigger, harder, more vascular. He had to dwarf the kid’s arms when, on some inevitable future date when Moster lined them up next to each other barked out FRONT DOUBLE BICEPS to both of them, Gunst could raise his arms to the almighty skies and curl up a walloping huge double bi’s that would force the musclepuppy Casey into a shameful corner. But he knew that wouldn’t happen. Casey was just too big, too hard, too perfect – and only 18. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Gunst went to his room and stretched out on his bed, suddenly depressed. A few minutes later he got up and ate six chicken breasts. And then lay down again, resting, willing his arms to recover, to get bigger. Shit. Damn. Fuck. After about 10 minutes of posing, Casey, innocent of the turmoil he was already causing in the quad, felt both hungry and thirsty. He stepped off the platform, gave a last look at himself in the mirror, and did a side chest. Pop. Pow. Yeah. He wandered into his kitchenette. A surprisingly good-sized, double door industrial grade refrigerator (stainless steel, reflecting, naturally, so he could see himself) was center in the wall. He opened it up and was surprised to see three 5-gallon water bottles, shelves of Tupperware containers filled with cooked, cold bloody rare steaks and cooked chicken breasts, some prepared salads and tuna salad. He grabbed a whole steak and gobbled it in three bites, then drank a full quart of water. He opened the vegetable drawer. Unlike other young bodybuilders - stupid assholes - who turned their noses up at vegetables, at anything 'green', Casey craved fresh veggies. The drawer was full, he happily noted. He fished around and found some tomatoes and fresh celery stalks. He popped four whole tomatoes - "Vitamin C!" as Miles would have said - and began gnawing on a stalk. He closed the door and gazed thoughtfully at his reflection in the stainless steel. Miles. He really missed him. He hadn't seen him now for - what? - a year? More? Miles would be so proud of him. Maybe he could get out some time, go to Raw Weight, see Miles, and maybe pose a little with him? He sure hoped so. And....maybe something more, too. He belched softly and headed back into the main room to start unpacking. He raised an arm, sniffed at an armpit. Yeah, he did stink. A shower would come next. A knock came at the door. He answered it, the gallon water bottle still in his hand. It was Private Lang. He was dressed in an-all black skin-tight bicycling suit and was carrying a helmet. He dripped with sweat. “Hey,” said Casey, eyeing Lang evenly. He too was handsome, and he too had a heavy sagging cock bulge in front. Casey guessed they all wore clothing to show themselves off to their best advantage. But why did they all look like male models? Even Gunst, big and broad and homely, looked like he belonged in a magazine. Or on the movie screen. Or on TV. “Hey. Welcome. Listen, haven’t got much time. Moster will be here in a second. Want to warn you about something.” Casey was annoyed and awed for a moment by Lang’s two-day scruff and perfect hair. Damn. Fucking good looking dude. Shit, now what? What did he just say? Something else he had to worry about? “Come on in.” The heavily muscled Lang gazed briefly up and down at the shirtless Casey, lingered his gaze a moment on his bulging crotch, considered a moment, but then said, “No, thanks. Another time. Believe me.” “Sergeant Moster’s not coming. Come on in.” “No. Another time.” “Okay. So what’s up?” “You gotta watch out for Tiffany.” “Don’t I know it.” Lang fumbled in his fanny pack and pulled out a small pill bottle. He handed Casey a white capsule. “Something else, too. Take this before the workout.” Casey played dumb. “What is it? Drugs?” “Naw. Well, yeah. I guess. We all take ‘em. They’re not toxic and they’re not hallucinogens, but it’ll make you feel stronger and more confident, and they free up your…..well, natural inhibitions.” “Haven’t got any.” “Bullshit. You’re scared as hell, even Hension can see it. Hell, if I can see it, then, dude, you’re scared.” “I’m not fucking scared.” “Anxious, then. Nervous. Anyway, you should be.” “Why should I take this? What is this, anyway? You guys all trying to punk me?” “No! Trust me, dude. Take it. By the time the workout is under way you’ll be ready for anything. What do you normally single-arm curl?” “170 pounds.” “Take one and you’ll curl 220. Single arm.” Fuck! Casey grabbed for it, popped it down his mouth, and took a chug of water. Then he grinned. “Thanks! Sure you don’t want to come in a moment? We could pose together.” “Yeah…..I would…..but later. Gotta go.” He looked nervously down the corridor and scooted away. Casey closed the door. He unpacked some muscle magazines, his new jockstraps and do-rag, his iPod and laptop, and started to set up his new video camera on a tripod. He liked to record his posing practices, and with the dais and the mirrors and the new lighting he was already excited. He dropped to the floor and reeled off a fast150 push-ups. He needed to jerk off soon, but was interrupted by another knock at the door. This time it was Waring. He looked like he had just gotten out of the shower, his hair slicked back, his clothes tight and plastered against big muscles. “Whassup, dude?” he asked. “Welcome.” He extended a calloused hand. Casey leaned against the door and crossed giant arms. Another handsome dude. He didn’t shake. He blew out air, looked at him levelly, and just waited. Shit. After all, all these dudes had shot their cum all over him just 12 hours ago. Didn’t they remember? It was kinda weird they all seemed to have either forgotten, or just didn’t care. Or maybe they did it all the time to each other? Whatever. He was here to get big. There was a long pause. “Okay, I guess you’re just settling in and not ready to receive guests. I got something for you anyway. House-warming gift.” He held out a fist, opened it, revealing a capsule. Casey looked it and gazed at him, not taking the bait. “Don’t you want to know what it’s for?” “Lemme guess. My inhibitions? Give me a boost? I can curl 3,000 pounds? Protect me from Tiffany? Make me millions?” “Okay, who was here before me?” “I don’t remember his name. Good-looking guy with black hair. You’re ALL good-looking guys with black hair.” “Some are blond, some ginger, some bald. How old?” “Old. I don’t know. 27?” “Mustache?” “No.” “Bicycle clothes?” “Yeah.” “Lang.” Waring looked around. “Did he give you one already? Did you take it?” “Yes, and yes.” “Good.” He held out the capsule. “Keep it. Take it anyway. I took two once,” he added, and smiled to remember a particularly hot ‘Pose and Approve’ session with both Alvarez and Lang, after which, unfortunately, he was not invited to return. Not yet, anyway. “Sure you don’t want to come in?” Casey gestured ironically, but he wouldn’t have minded. A little double-posing practice would be a good workout. But once again, all he got was the once-over. Waring paused a little and grinned, his face turning pink, but shook his head. “No, I gotta run. Bye.” And he loped off down the corridor. Casey closed the door. Whatever. All these dudes were weird, muscle or no. He took the second White Caps, flexed a few more minutes in front of the mirror, waited for something to happen. Nothing. Suddenly he was tired, so he decided to grab a nap. He went to his room, kicked off his boots, tore off his sweatpants and jock, and sprawled naked onto the huge bed. He was instantly asleep, dreaming vaguely of his muscle planet. When he woke up, the light in the room had changed, but he didn’t notice it. All he could think of was his dick, hugely and almost painfully hard. He was ready to go, now. The caps? Maybe. He masturbated on his bed, formally initiating himself to his room. He watched his reflection in the ceiling mirror as he pumped his big shaft. Within 30 seconds he came, his cum spurting high and splashing the glass of the mirrored ceiling and plopping down onto the sheets, staining them deeply with pools of cum. “Shit,” he said. He got up went into the bathroom and closed the door. He shat heavily and pissed about 2 gallons with heavy ropes of piss splashing into the toilet. He stared suspiciously at the bidet, and then at the shower. There were the seemingly dozens of jets and spigots and controls, but after a few minutes of carefully testing, he got it to work. He showered for about 10 minutes, washing himself off carefully, loving the jets of steaming hot water that hit every angle of his physique. He stepped out and grabbed a huge towel off the rack. It was warm to the touch, as if it had just been taken out of the drier. Damn, it felt good. He draped it around himself and went back into his room. His sheets had been changed. The ceiling mirror was clean. Fuck. Who the hell had been in here while he was in the shower??? And his workout clothes were laid out on the bed. Oh well. Guess he had invisible maids, too. He changed, and went to the kitchenette to get a bite of chicken and another jug of water. On the counter there was a note: I let myself in. Hope u don’t mind. Take this pill. It will help. C U later in the gym. --- Hension Next to the note was another capsule. What the hell? He took it. He looked at his watch. 3:40 PM. “Shit! Shit!” he shouted. Late again! He tumbled into his sweatshirt, and ran off to meet Moster in his office. ******** 15 minutes later, Casey stood at attention in front of Sergeant Moster’s desk. “Well, Cadet,” said Moster. “Late again. Very late. At ease. Let’s talk awhile. Have a seat.” He gestured to a flat bench used for bench presses. Casey dutifully lowered his bulk onto the bench and leaned forward anxiously, resting his elbows on his thighs. Sweat rolled down his torso. He wiped his eyes and stared ahead of him. He wasn’t going to get punished for being so late? He had run all the way from his quarters to the office and got lost six times. He finally had to ask some Puerto Rican kitchen kid – oh, yeah, the kid who was there last night, sucking all the musclemen’s cocks while he wrestled Abdul – where the hell Moster’s office was. The kid had stared at him hungrily but Casey wasn’t about to get into it. “Down there,” he’d pointed, and Casey ran off. This time he found it. He saw none of the other men. Moster came out from around the desk and approached, looking him over. “Rockland – I mean Casey … - I’m going to get right to it. You show great potential. Big muscles, lots of strength, good flexibility, tall, young, still growing.” “And I got good bones. You and Dr….” He paused. He couldn’t recall the dude’s name. “Dr. Zaftig.” “Yeah, Dr. Zaftig, you both said so last night.” Didn’t Moster remember last night either? Fer crissakes. “Yes, and good bones, yes.” He stood in front of Casey. “Do you have questions?” Casey looked up at the Sergeant plaintively. About a million of them, actually. But he said nothing, and shook his head. His eyes roamed up and down his CO’s massive physique. Moster’s shiny black biceps exploded out of his white t-shirt, with veins thick as snakes, lining the peaks and networks of pumping blood vessels criss-crossing his forearms. His hands, resting lightly on his hips, were enormous, with thick fingers, white, trimmed fingernails and long, powerful thumbs. His neck was impossibly huge, and his traps sloped powerfully into massive deltoids. His lats flared out almost horizontally. Casey had never seen so much muscle. And in his pants, his package drooped casually from his fly down along his right thigh in his uniform trousers. The massive bulge extended nearly to his knee. Casey gulped and licked his lips a little. He could see the mountain of cockhead corona and make out the deep piss slit, even through the thick fabric. Moster’s gaze never left his eyes. “Well, Casey?” “Sergeant Moster, what is this place really about? Why are we here?” “You’ve been on campus two years. You should know. We’re Valhalla Labs.” “Yeah, I know that. But what is it? Really is it?” “Valhalla Labs is a unique training facility. Here we build and train the finest specimens of men on earth.” “But just bodybuilders.” Moster looked down into Casey’s eyes, slightly startled. “Yes, just bodybuilders,” he confirmed. “There are other kinds of men who get built. Gymnasts. Swimmers. Football players.” “Yes.” “So why just bodybuilders?” Moster paused a moment. “Son,” he said, pacing, “don’t you want to be here?” Casey fell all over himself replying. “Oh, yes, sir, I do want to be here, sir, and nowhere else!” “So….is there a problem?” “No, sir, no problem AT ALL. But….why are we here?” And he still didn’t ask, pointedly, about the wrestling and the cum job and all the craziness from the night before. Moster paused again, and spoke in a measured tone. “The Nineteen – and now, with you, The Twenty – are potentially the finest specimens of male musculature on the planet. Most bodybuilders, power lifters, weight lifters, look mighty impressive, but, you know, they have all sorts of internal problems. Bad hearts. Very bad livers and kidneys. Bad skin. Small testicles. High cholesterol. Bad blood pressure. Boils, scars. They smell bad. No endurance. And…..too often….they have very tiny cocks.” Casey had to admit it was true. “But not here. Here we build men who will last. When you, son, reach your 50th birthday, you’ll look much the way you do now. When you reach 70, God willing, you’ll look like a man of 40. Do you know how old I am?” Casey paused a moment. “28?” he ventured. “I’m 48. 49 next month.” “No shit.” “No shit. Let’s see your biceps, son. Remove your sweatshirt.” Casey complied and meekly flexed his guns. He smiled hopefully. “Are they okay?” he asked nervously, flexing, looking from arm to arm, glancing hopefully at the dancing triple peaks of each biceps. “You know they’re better than just ‘okay’. Or you should know. Good God, you’re still reticent?” “Re- ti – what?” “Still shy? Don’t you feel strong, son? Don’t you feel huge and powerful?” “Not next to you, sir.” Moster was touched in spite of himself. “Stand up, son,” he directed, peeling off his shirt and heading over to a broad expanse of mirror. “Come over here and join me.” He bent and began to unlace his boots. Casey got up and trotted over to join Moster at the mirror. Instinct told him it might not be a good idea to tell him just at present that he had recently taken three white caps. So far he hadn’t felt anything unusual. But then, he’d had a long nap, too. Maybe you weren’t supposed to take white caps and then immediately go to sleep. “Kick off those shorts. Your jock, too. Strip down.” Casey did as he was told, pulling his jock down shyly. Moster unbuckled his belt, peeled down his trousers, kicked off his boots and rose, ripping off his t-shirt. His massive muscles bloomed with gigantic power. He was wearing a powerfully knit bright red posing suit underneath his trousers that magnificently displayed his bulging tool. “All our posing suits are privately made. Otherwise, they won’t fit. See?” First he grabbed the side straps and pulled up. The pouch loomed magnificently, full of Moster’s massive penis and balls. He moved from side to side, showing the strength of the suit. “Actually there’s some steel mesh in there. You get used to it.” Then he pulled down the poser from the side straps and, one foot at a time, stepped out of it. His cannon firehose flopped out and down heavily and loudly slapped his quads. “Face the mirror, Cadet,” said Moster. Casey obeyed and turned, and together the two musclemen stood naked in front of the mirror. Wow. Casey knew he had never seen – no, nor imagined – bigger muscles, nor a bigger engine like the one Sergeant Rod Moster was sporting between the walls of each diamond-shaped quad. He stared at it, slack jawed, his mouth dangling open, amazed. From the beautiful muscle jewel-setting that was Moster’s lower rectus abdominus to the ridge of shrink-wrapped muscle from which plunged the massive, thick shaft, Moster’s massive, huge, perfect monster penis was a thing of beauty. A few moments passed, and Casey finally spoke. “You have a very big dick, sir. Begging your pardon.” “Yes, quite the tool, isn’t it?” Moster said expansively, waggling it from side to side. “It might even be the biggest in the world. Anyway, no recorded penis has been found to be bigger.” He looked down appraisingly at Casey’s organ, “Yours appears to be almost as big, I see.” “No, not, really, sir.” “Oh, yes, I think it is. Close, anyway. Let’s see you wave it back and forth. Like this.” He began to whip his penis noisily from side to side. It slapped loudly on his quads. “Go ahead. I know you can do it. I saw you do it for the boys in your room this morning.” Casey was mortified, remembering. “Try it, cadet.” “Okay.” He waved it back and forth timidly. “No, throw some energy into it. Be a man!” Moster continued to slap his cock against his quads. Casey gulped and began to whip his engine a little faster, a little harder…..and suddenly he was surprised to hear slaps as loud as Moster’s coming from his own extremities as his ample cock made contact with his muscular quads. Moster reached down and grabbed Casey’s member in a powerful fist and began to squeeze. Casey was stunned. “Sir!” “Relax, Private. I know you’re a grower. I want a demonstration.” He began to powerfully stroke the penis, and in his grip Casey immediately became erect. “Very nice indeed. 12 inches? More?” “I’m not sure….” “Zaftig sure knows how to find them.” Casey was getting dizzy. A heavy glob of precum appeared from the piss slit, ran over Moster’s fist and dripped onto the floor. “Nice,” said Moster. “Good boy. Have you masturbated yet today?” Casey was mortified. He took a step back and his thick penis popped from Moster’s enveloping fist. Moster let it go. “Yes…..” “How many times?” “Just once.” “Right.” He walked back to his desk, his penis waggling mightily as he walked, and hit a key on his laptop, which dinged. He read a message, looked up and smiled. He returned. “Yes, I see that you did, about 25 minutes ago.” “Wha-a-a-a-a- t?!!?” “The cleaning report came in.” Cleaning report?? Christ, the sheets. They file this stuff? “Are you guys spying on me?” “We’re going to monitor your activity, yes. We do this for all the men.” “Do they know?” “Yes, of course they know. Many of them relish it. The men like to be on cam. Is this going to be a problem for you?” Casey decided to change the subject. “Sir, it embarrasses me. I have to jerk off about 5 or 6 times a day.” “Seems that you’re off schedule then, if you have only masturbated once so far.” “Well, it’s been a weird day.” “Don’t let me stop you.” “I’m not gonna do it now!!!” Casey was getting more and more mortified. What was all this, anyway?? “No, of course not. You still have the societal blockers in place that prevent that. So do the men, actually, in my presence. They wouldn’t do it either while in this office. Of course, at meal times, in the gym, on the track outside, wherever or whenever they feel they have to, they whip out their dicks and go for it. You saw that last night, actually.” Finally. “Last night was really, really weird,” said Casey. “You’ll get used to it.” “I will?” “Yes, and with talent like yours, the men will be very eager for you to start joining them in priapic exercises.” Hunh? “You’ll find out. In time. Meanwhile, you should be very proud. Your penis is one of the finest specimens I have ever seen. And I have seen thousands of the best of the best. Yours is….well…..it rivals mine.” Shit, thought Casey. Really? Sudden he got a little coy. “Gee, and I have always been ashamed of my big dick.” “Really. Why?” “I can’t….hide -… it….” Casey colored deep red and looked down at himself. There it was, looming out from his body, huge and solid. “And why would you want to hide it?” “You hide yours!” Casey blurted. “Or you try to.” “That’s different. I’m in command. And the men all know now about my superior tool. If I showed it all the time, it would lead to all kinds of problems.” Moster bent and pulled up his posers and trousers, carefully wrapping his giant engine securely in the folds of pants fabric. He squatted slightly, reached into the waistband of his slacks, and positioned the shaft so that it lay, lazy and secure, against his right quad. Then he went back to his desk. “Get dressed now. But hang on.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small vial, then walked back to him and leaned in quietly. He spoke low into Casey’s ear, and raised his palm surreptitiously. In his hand was a single white capsule. “Take it,” he said. Not again. He was already feeling – well, not high, exactly, but close. He was dubious – after all, he had already taken three – but what the hell. He pretended innocence, and he made his face appear anxious. “What is it? Drugs? I’ve never done drugs.” “This is pure P21. The drug of choice. Take it.” “Will I be okay?” he asked, wanting to trust him. I hope so, Casey thought. I took three of those little suckers. “You’ll be fine,” assured Moster, and he meant it. “Frankly, yes. It is a drug. It will not hurt you - but it will do something to your perception of yourself. Take it. Now.” “Okay.” Casey nodded dumbly and bolted it down. Inside he was elated, excited, wondering if this new mystery supplement was a new kind of steroid, able to produce great surges of strength and growth. Then he looked up hopefully at Moster, now sitting back at his desk, easy in his chair, his legs wide before him, open to the world. “Meet us in the rec room after your shower for post workout eval.” “Yes, sir,” said Casey. Inadvertently his gaze lowered to the Sergeant’s lap. He stared at the bulge. Wow, he thought again. Damn. “Good. Now get to the gym and get started. Some of the men will be there. You have some serious lifting to do. I’ll join you presently.” He pushed an intercom button. “Dr. Irving?” “Yes?” came the voice on the squawk box. “Get the camera ready and head to the big gym. You'll find everything you need in the locker room. Dr. Irving is there ahead of you. He'll set you up. Get moving now.” “Yes, Sergeant Moster.” "And don't dawdle." He checked his watch. "You're already 20 minutes late. The men were expecting you at 16:00 hours. They don't like to be kept waiting." "Are they all there?" "By now, yes." "They gonna jerk off all over me again?" Moster smiled. "No, not tonight. Frankly, you have them all a little too worried about themselves to pull anything like that again so soon. Besides...." Casey waited for it. "Besides what?" Moster smiled. "Nothing. We talk again after your workout tonight. Then dinner and then bed for you. Get going now." Click click click. Moster was typing. Casey stood still, uncertain. Moster looked up. “I said get going, Casey.” Casey nodded, dumbly wordless. Gee, he types fast, he thought. He pulled on his sweatshirt and scampered out the door. After a moment he was back. “Sergeant Moster?” he asked, shy and frightened. “Yes, Cadet Rockland?” “…um..….which way IS the gym….?” Moster had to smile in spite of himself. He pushed back from the desk and rose. “Okay. We'll go together.” He approached Casey, looked him over with brief approbation, and nodded to himself. This kid was something else. Just what he had been waiting for. Just right for his plans. Just right for the big picture. The picture Zaftig wasn't aware of. Yes, everything was going smoothly. He headed on down the corridor. Casey followed him, submissively scampering a few steps behind. It was going to be his first workout as one of The Twenty. He felt both scared and powerful. And just a little pissed off, as the White Cap began to work on him. Those dudes weren't gonna jerk off on him again, any time soon. He'd see to that. He knew what he had to do. Okay. Time to go train. ********** Want to reread "The Twenty" from the beginning? Click here for "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Precis, Introduction, and Chapters 1 & 2
  3. arbotimus

    The Iron Bug - Part II

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

    The Iron Bug - Part I

    Hello, all. This is my first story. It started out as kind of a silly idea, but it kept growing (no pun intended). If I manage to write more parts, they will probably be shorter than this. Thoughts and comments are always appreciated. And with that, enjoy! Part I -- It Bit Hard I yawned, running my hands through my short, stark ginger hair. The cool mountain air filled my lungs, tinged with the scent of pine and thin from the altitude. The clouds between the trees were pasted flat against the sky, wandering across like a moving painting. I touched my toes, stretched my legs. My path was obscured by morning fog that was quickly lifting, but I knew the way. The quiet energy of the morning spurred me forward, and I began my run. The trees kept me company until the paved path wound back into our tiny Oregonian town. Rising higher, the sun strained to find its way through the morning cloud cover as people began their day, shuffling out of their houses to collect newspapers or drive to work. Beads of sweat started to form on my skin. The cool air was a welcome relief, my lungs straining after the first few miles. By the time I had reached Charlie’s house at the end of the neighborhood, I saw him standing in his doorway. It doesn’t really take much imagination to get the idea of Charlie. A typical muscular jock, tall, handsome, clean features. Short brown hair topped deep green eyes and a slightly overconfident smile. Like Adam Levine had gotten drunk one night and knocked up Marco Dapper in our local pub. His tan skin exaggerated the features of his body, his thick arms and broad shoulders jutting out through the white wife-beater that fit nicely against the rest of torso. Clearly, the unoriginal nature of his attractiveness didn’t keep me from noticing him every time we met, which was pretty often in a town as small as this one. And he knew it too, ever since high school. He lifted his hand behind his head, his arm flexing slightly. “’Sup, little man?” he said, flashing a borderline arrogant smile. I waved, averting my gaze. It was always like this. From the expression on his face, I could tell that he enjoyed how uncomfortable he made me. My discomfort had waned since my confusing teenage years, but he still relished in my awkward furtive glances. A mixture of slight distain and familiar arousal ultimately ended as a small jolt of excitement down below before I continued on. I was drenched in sweat by the time I finally made it back home. Feeling good about my run, I stripped off my clothes and took a minute to evaluate myself in the mirror. I was handsome, if nothing else. My eyes were that startling sort of blue that you would expect with my ginger complexion. I liked to think they were kind, unassuming. Piercing, is what the last guy I was with had said. Otherwise, I had a strong jawline accompanied by smooth, relatively tan skin peppered with light freckles. After I turned on the shower, I made the same pose Charlie made to me earlier and giggled at my reflection. I was lithe, definitely, some definition here and there but nothing to write home about. Overall, I was more or less happy with my body as it was. Finding a guy on my occasional trips to the city had never been too much effort, and I had had my share of adventures enough to maintain my self-confidence. Post-shower, I threw on a T-shirt and shorts and headed to work. I was a hairdresser at the only salon we had. Yes, I was a gay hairdresser. Prior to that no one had ventured to guess that I liked men, but now I had put up with more than a few raised eyebrows. My excuse, on the rare occasion that I needed it, was that jobs were scarce around these parts, and my mom had taught me how to cut hair. Neither of these were false, and most people let it go easy enough. The job was temporary, anyhow. I was headed back to university after several years off. Aspiring mechanical engineer, had life not gotten in the way. My run had taken less time than I thought, and I set out on the long way through the woods. The best part about our rural town is that there is a trail to almost anywhere you want to go. It’s practically a postcard there. Little coffee shops and gas stations rise up almost naturally out of the woods along the one major road. Behind the lay what is practically wilderness: verdant, alpine, springs gushing forth from mysterious locations. I was keen on escaping into it as much as possible. The sun was starting to pierce the clouds and peer through the canopy. It was summer, after all, even in Oregon. Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar pain in my leg. It reminded me of a bug bite, but the feeling was immediate and intense, as though I had been stabbed by a needle. I looked down, but I couldn’t find any mark or bruise except for a small puncture that was already clotting up. The pain subsided as soon as it had started. I began to search for the culprit, but I was interrupted by a jarring shrieking sound, as if someone were rubbing two pieces of rusty metal together. My head turned directly to the source. And there it was, sitting innocently between the pine needles. Although, what it was took a second to comprehend. An insect, most likely, its body resembled something akin to a mosquito crossed with a beetle (I am a mechanical engineer, not an entomologist). It shone with a dark metallic sheen, as if it were actually made of metal. Sinister, black compound eyes stared back at me above a menacing set of mouthparts, all sharp. It was currently rubbing its needle-like proboscis as it sang its metallurgic cacophony by rubbing its spindly hind legs together. The moment I moved closer to take a look, it flew away with a buzz akin to a tiny chainsaw, its tiny wings beating furiously to support its strange body. I stood there for a second, perplexed. I wouldn’t be taking this path again tomorrow. Despite this odd interlude, I still managed to make it on time. Work was dreary. I was restless the entire day, doing ten different things at once. The customers could tell, too. Shop talk was at a minimum, replaced with uncomfortable looks and quick and simple cuts. I just wanted to get the job done and go for a run, and I was grateful by the time my shift had ended. Contemplating my uneasiness on the way home, I stopped in front of the gym. Something told me that I should go inside. I entered warily. This was not a regular activity for me. Normally by then I would have already been running, but my newfound jitters seemed to require a different kind of relief. The inside was spacious, if not a little run down. Carpet floors, old wooden paneling, decorations from the previous century that had faded away. All the facilities in our town were a little bit tainted with Americana like this. Without a friend to mooch off of, I was forced to sign up for a gym membership. My body urged me forward impatiently, and so I ignored the moderate fee and the overbearingly cheerful attitude of the guy handling the paperwork. Finally, I was granted access. Being almost entirely unfamiliar with what I was doing, I lifted a 15 pound dumbbell off the rack. The next time I looked up at the clock, three hours had passed. Three hours. My body was, as far as I was concerned, dead. Once I had started, I wasn’t able stop until my body wouldn’t move anymore. The entire experience was kind of hazy in my memory. I took a minute just to lay on the floor and breathe, hoping that death was not actually imminent. My sanity returned to me slowly, but I was confused nonetheless. I had only been in a gym three or four times in my life, and none were exactly stellar performances. Three hours of intense weightlifting seemed excessive, if not impossible. Finally, after an immeasurable amount of time (which my watch later informed me was only five minutes), I was able to lift my body and head outside. The person who had signed me up enthusiastically saluted me on the way out. His disposition was frustrating when I considered the condition I was in. I grunted something at him and left without looking in his direction. My entire body was wracked with pain, and I was ravenously hungry. My sole concern was moving my heavy body forward, one step at a time, back to my apartment. By the time I made it, I couldn’t decide whether to collapse from exhaustion or feed my starving stomach. Passing the refrigerator and pantry, I opted for the latter. It was heaven, every item that touched my lips and passed down my throat. I ate until I couldn’t anymore, preferentially grabbing any protein-heavy item I could find. After I felt I could barely move, I somehow forged a path to my bed and collapsed. Immediately I found myself in a sleep without dreams. The next morning I awoke anticipating the pain, but I found none. I felt limber, refreshed. My body was not sore at all. Maybe I hadn’t worked out as hard as I had thought? I didn’t ponder it for very long, however, as my morning wood stole my attention. My whole body felt aroused, and as my hand touched my dick I thought I was going to cum right there all over my sheets. Somehow I resisted, threw off my covers, and pulled out the lube that I kept in my nightstand drawer for such emergencies. It throbbed as I applied each spurt. I moved slowly, cautiously up and down my dick, careful not to squeeze too hard or move to fast to fend off the impending ejaculation. Every time I flexed a muscle, the feelings intensified. I made a point to flex every part of my body that I could think of, while still masturbating with the same care and attention to avoid a premature orgasm. Each stroke felt like minutes of pleasure, my whole body wracked with orgasmic sensations. My clock, however, disagreed. I came after only a minute, feeling somewhat disappointed between spasms that it hadn’t lasted longer. I used my towel (also conveniently located in my night stand) to wipe the voluminous jizz off my stomach, feeling how hard it was from yesterday. I got up and headed to the bathroom. I was still sweaty from last night. Deciding that I wasn’t going to run today, I slipped off my shirt after I started the shower. I paused. Despite the fact that I had just came, my dick hardened a little bit at my own image in the mirror. I wasn’t that much bigger than before, but the difference was notable. Grinning, I made a muscle. Not formidable, not large, but that was definitely a bicep. My pecs rose a little bit more off my chest, my abs were just a little more defined. I turned my body to find a back that was just a tad more cut, a butt just a little more firm. Oddly, my legs had not changed all that much, but I could feel that they were much stronger. I felt lighter, more powerful. Resisting the urge to touch my dick at my own visage, I hopped in the shower and headed to work, this time making sure to take the normal route. On the way over, I remembered the bug bite from yesterday and decided there wasn’t really any other explanation. Not very many exciting events tended to happen around there, so the odd ones stand out. Still, that was not much of an explanation. The parallels to Peter Parker immediately flashed into my head. Was I just going to get bigger? Or would I have all the powers of a mosquito-beetle…thing? I wasn’t really excited to become Terminator Gregor Samsa. But then I felt my body tight against my shirt, my shoulders extending out to a proud posture, my legs strong, my abs tight. It was hard to worry, or to think about how or why this was happening. It was even harder not to get an erection. All day I received compliments about how I looked. I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it. “Did you get taller?” one of them said, and I just flashed them a smile and continued working. They would probably figure it out soon enough, if it continued like this. Luckily, I was not going to be here for very much longer. The sun continued to pass overhead. The day was long, but not nearly unbearable. I felt good, light. But the urge to go to the gym was there too, pushing me forward. I was almost giddy with anticipation as we flipped the sign to “Closed”. I rushed straight to the gym. On the way I passed Delilah, that lovely lady. She had a way of smiling that made you feel like you were at home. As far as I knew, she was the only black person in our entire town. On loan, so to speak, from a big university on the East Coast I couldn’t quite remember, Delilah was helping out at our local museum during the summer. The museum was our town’s only tourist attraction, specializing in American Folklore and Mythology of the area and of Oregon in general. Her title was technically “Folklorist”, but as she told it she was basically an anthropologist with a background in mythology. And I, having done a hairdressing stint in my college town days, was the only one who knew how to do her hair. Needless to say, we bonded. “Hi Delilah,” I said, waving curtly. “Evening, Kenny,” she said, smiling warmly. She didn’t have to say much else. Most of our interactions were unspoken. Delilah was the only person in our town that I had come out to, but she seemed to have known before I told her. We would talk about boys and our adventures in the city in private, but in public we had a kind of secret code. We walked on past each other, both apparently in a hurry to get somewhere. I finally reached the gym, feeling good from a day of compliments but tense from the anticipation. I entered and instantly I felt an unconscious reaction to the metal. It needed to be in the air, and I was just the guy to do it. I know I started with bicep curls, but after that things got a little hazy despite all my mental preparation. I remember that between the pain was an odd sort of euphoria, a mixture of physical pleasure and a sense of pride and accomplishment at what I had just achieved. Whenever I lifted something that I thought my body would never be able to, the feeling of power and strength was intense, almost erotic. It pushed me to try heavier weights, more reps. I was improving as I was lifting. After two and a half hours of pushing myself, I knew that I was done. Despite the shorter time, I had worked much harder than yesterday. When I finally fell to the floor, I stayed there for a good ten minutes before I could walk out of the gym. Almost as soon as I left the building (at this point completely ignoring the peppy gatekeeper), the hunger started again. In all of my rushing around, I had completely forgotten to restock my empty apartment. I detoured to our only fast food restaurant (luckily open at the late hour of 8 p.m.), and ordered enough chicken for five people. “I am having a get-together,” I told the cashier, looking down as I said it. She didn’t really seem to care. She called my order, and I paid my hefty sum for my five person meal. I barely managed to get outside before I wolfed it all down. It was probably the best fried chicken between two slices of bread I had ever tasted. Nothing was safe from my bottomless stomach. I ate thoughtlessly, unquenchably until it was gone. Small pangs of hunger still plagued me, but I threw away the paper remains of my meal and headed home. As I looked up, the stars were pale against the summer sky. The best thing about living in a small town is the calm darkness of the night. Looking up, the entire universe opens up to you, and anything seems possible. The dark shapes of trees surrounding familiar buildings and places give the perfect balance of comfort and wilderness. You get a sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself. But all these thoughts were interrupted by the sensations that were happening in my own body. I could feel myself growing very slowly. I first noticed in my legs, my shorts tightening around my thighs. Every step was lighter than the last, and as I ran my hands down my quads I could feel them pulsing and enlarging. My upper body grew simultaneously, and I wished I had worn a tighter shirt so I could feel it expanding in the same way. My hands instinctively reached for my biceps, harder and larger every second. I could feel my chest lifting up my shirt, and my abs growing tighter and thicker at the same time. My stomach emptied as my muscles continued to throb and expand. My dick also responded with a pump of its own. I knew that I couldn’t touch it without orgasming, I was already almost there. As my shorts continued to grow tighter from my ass expanding, it became more and more difficult to ignore the fabric pulling tighter against my already throbbing cock. Luckily, by the time I had finished most of my growth I was already home, having avoided cumming in my shorts. By now, most of my fatigue had lifted. I headed up the stairs to my apartment, noticing how easy it was to push myself up despite my new size. Once inside, I checked the refrigerator and pantry and ate whatever I had left, which turned out to be Jello and stale tortilla chips. They tasted wonderful, and I wolfed them down eagerly. My body was still pulsing and growing, but very slowly. I kept touching myself all over, constantly surprised by the new shapes and how hard my body was. I headed to the bathroom, anticipating the changes in the mirror. I was not disappointed. Full, rounded biceps met with thick forearms as I made a double bicep pose, my abs and pecs taut as they stretched out from the position. Even if my arms were only about 15 inches around, they were full and solid, powerful looking. After I let my arms fall, I took a second just to admire my new body. I found that I could now make my pecs bounce, and I relished in it. First both, then the left one, then the right one, then to some imaginary rhythm. I tightened my abs and saw the new crevices between them, and as my hands ran across them I could feel each one distinctly. Unlike yesterday, my legs had also swollen in size, and I flexed my calves to find a heavy ridge. I also got a glance at my back, my rounded shoulders meeting nicely muscled traps above a widened set of lats. If I continued like this, soon I would be bigger than Charlie. I barely even touched my dick before it exploded all over the mirror, the silky feel of my hands rubbing against my hard body. I continued to flex and admire my new form through the cum-drenched mirror, wondering how big I would become. Part II
  5. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 10

    I will apologize ahead of time, there is no growth or sex in this scene, but it is setting up for the next scene. I hope you enjoy and please leave feedback if there is a certain direction you would like to see this story go. I keep hitting roadblocks in this story. Thank you everyone for all of your support Blue Pill Part 10 Modest would not even begin to describe fletcher valleys quarterback. It wouldn’t even begin to describe the massive home he lives in either. Chris had just returned home after his most recent fuck session in the gym with Luke amped up and ready to long dick his girlfriend Stacy for a few hours. “Hey baby, did you miss me? Cause my dick sure missed that tight snatch of yours!” Chris arrogantly flexed his dick inside his shorts, making the head of his python pop out the bottom. Stacy couldn’t take her eyes off the newly grown muscle man. “My god Chris, you’ve gotten so huge!” her eyes caught the tip of his dick peeking out of his shorts, so she reached forward and grabbed hold. She began massaging the meat in one hand until she realized that she couldn’t encircle it as it began to harden. “Jesus Christ! This things not even fully hard yet” Stacy exclaimed in awe as she got closer to examine it. Not believing what she was seeing. “Not even close.” Chris said with a smirk on his face. Chris reached one of his meaty paws out and wrapped it behind Stacy’s head, pulling her into his groin. He felt her begin pulling back so he let go. “There’s no way I can suck that thing! It’s too big already Christopher!” She had the look of fear in her eyes as she backed up, looking up from her man’s mammoth dick all the way up his muscular torso to his rage filled eyes. “Well if you won’t suck it, then I will just fuck you with it. How about that?” It was more of a statement than a question coming from Chris as he reached out wrapping a hand around her torso and pulling her closer. Stacy could feel Chris’s dick throbbing between her legs and up her skirt. “Now I’m fully hard, all 14 inches of me. Do I not have the biggest dick you’ve ever seen?” Chris began reaching under Stacy’s skirt with his other hand, moving her panties to one side as he readjusted his dick so the head was lined up with her clit. Stacy began to push against Chris’s rock hard pecs in protest. “You’re not fucking me with that freak dick! I don’t know how you got this big so fast, but you weren’t this big a few days ago.” “I know it’s great isn’t it!” Chris said with an evil gleam in his eyes. He began rubbing his gargantuan helmet along her pussy lips, getting his dick head wet with her juices. As Chris began pushing the head of his dick into Stacy, she began to scream in protest, punching Chris everywhere she could. “ENOUGH!” Chris slapped Stacy across the face. A look of shock and horror filled her eyes. “NOW I’M GONNA GET LAID AND YOUR GOING TO TAKE MY DICK WETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT!” Chris grabbed underneath Stacy’s arms and easily lifted her up as his dick head once again found the entrance to her moist cave. “Chris, please don’t!” Stacy shouted as tears began to fill her eyes. “Once I get completely inside you, you’ll love it, I promise.” Chris began lowering Stacy down onto his dick. She just rested on the head of his dick. Her pussy not accommodating to the girth of Chris’s gargantuan tool. Chris began getting frustrated so he switched his hand to rest on top of Stacy’s shoulders and he began applying force. Softly at first and then with increasing pressure. “STOP IT CHRISTOPHER! YOU’RE GOING TO RIP ME OPEN” becoming panicked, Stacy only thought of one way out. She swung her leg back and with all her might swung it forward. With the force of the impact of her foot on Chris’s baseball sized testical, it was enough for the behemoth to become winded. Chris let go of Stacy and grabbed for the shooting pain coming from his aching nut sack. Stacy tumbled to the floor and without missing a beat, ran out the door and out of Chris’s house to her car. “FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH. I WAS OVER YOU ANYWAY!” Chris yelled in agony as he lay on the ground holding his balls. Stacy sped off down the driveway leaving Chris and his aching balls in the dust, tears rolling down her face and anger in her eyes. After a couple minutes of lying on the floor, Chris began to get the nerve to get up. He grabbed onto the edge of his bed and when he fully stood he had a sharp shooting pain emanating from his balls. “Fuck! I need some aspirin.” Chris headed towards his bathroom. He flipped on the light and stepped up to his vanity, noting his body’s reflection in the mirror. Seeing his mass filled frame and vein covered beef only started to make his dick hard again. He opened the cabinet and rummaged through all the contents, not finding a single bottle of aspirin. “Shit!” Chris said slamming the cabinet door shut. “Maybe dad has some in his bathroom. Chris waddled his way out of his bedroom and pain stakingly made his way down stairs. Once he made it to the end of the hall he turned into his dads room and then into his bathroom. He opened the cabinet pushing bottles out of the way as they fell out and rattled across the tiled bathroom floor. Finally eyeing some ibuprofen at the back of the cabinet, Chris grabbed the bottle, popped the top off and downed 4. “That should do it.” Chris leaned down to get a drink of water from the faucet. Chris stood back up to his full height and once again caught eye of his own reflection. He began flexing his massive peaked biceps in the mirror. Making his pecs jump as he tweaked his diamond hard nipples. “Man that bitch is fucking crazy not wanting to get fucked by this.” Chris said as he went into a double bicep flex. Grunting and beginning to sweat, Chris noticed the head of his dick poking its way up past his belly button and along the ridges of his abs. Chris held one arm flexed as he reached down with his other hand and began massaging the head of his dick. Pre- cum began gushing out of the tip as his dick reached full hardness. He began lubing up his dick with his pre-cum. “Fuck, I gotta fuck something and soon. Maybe I will see if I can get that tight ass Luke to sit on my dick again.” Chris began to head out of his father’s bathroom, when his foot made contact with something on the floor sending it rattling across the bathroom. Chris hadn’t seen, over his mammoth pecs, all the pill bottles he had knocked out of the cabinet. Chris bent over and began picking them up and placing them back in the cabinet. He walked across the bathroom to pick up the bottle his foot had made contact with. As he reached down, he noticed that the bottle didn’t look like any of the others in the cabinet, but looked very familiar. As Chris looked over the bottle he recognized the label. It was the same label that the two bottles had in his locker at school. Chris popped the cap off and inside were black pills.
  6. Hey, how ya doing. My name is Jeff, I'm from New Jersey, and I am a 23-year-old Professional Bodybuilder. Let me give you some information about me. I am a white male, black hair and blue eyes. I stand about 6'4 and weigh around 278 lbs. My dad started me in the sport of bodybuilding, he always wanted to get into bodybuilding but he was too poor to join a gym and buy all the stuff that is needed when he was a teenager. But now, my dad is a very successful plastic surgeon and has placed his dream of bodybuilding upon me. It was and still is frustrating at times since I never really got to choose this sport and to be this big. He started me in this sport at the age of 11. I agree with you, that's too young. I was the only Junior in High school, well to be exact, the only teenager my age that had competed in a total of 28 contests at my age. All my friends were into sports like football and soccer, but I was too big and too slow to even try-out, but I was the only teenage bodybuilder that had two personal trainers and a choreographer for my posing routines. While everyone else was getting a car from their dad, I was getting enormous calf implants from mine. My dad started juicing me when I was only 15, and he knows that's not healthy, but he's a doctor so I had medical supervision. I was featured in many magazine, esp. since I was the only 18 year-old that competed at a body weight of 235. By my senior year I had 21 inch arm and 31 inch thighs. I was always considered a freak in high school and wasn't too popular. I was sort of shy in school, it didn't help either that teachers would always call attention to my size in class and always have to have a special desk for me so I could fit (if you ever weigh 235 and try and fit in a school desk, you will not succeed) Well, I am in my senior year of college right now majoring in Electrical engineering (I guess that ruins your stereotype of a bodybuilder haha). And I just got my pro card at the NPC Junior USA, where I competed as a super heavy. The good thing is that when you get your pro-card, you can get endorsements, get hired for photo shoots, do seminars, or guest pose at contest. This is where my story begins. This past summer I had the weirdest experience I will ever have. You see, I was just getting off the high of becoming pro and this guy called me and asked me to guest pose for his contest in a small town in the south. I quickly agreed to do it, I was thinking I had hit it big time, no one ever had asked me to do such a thing, and I wasn't about to turn that down. And to think if I did, I wouldn't hear the end of it from my dad. Well I gave the guy some info and he did the same for me. He mentioned that he wanted me to do a posing session for the beginning of the contest and during the end before the placements. I said sure that sounds great, esp. after he told me how much he was gonna pay. Before we hung up, he said he would send me some info about the contest and what they needed from me. After I got off the phone, I quickly called my dad to tell him of the news, he was very excited which I knew he would. He said he would make arrangements to get my choreographer working on a routine and the trainers to get me started. He even said he would make an appointment with a designer to get special posing trunks. You see in Bodybuilding, you try to cover up your dick and balls with as little material as possible, you want to be as naked as you can so you can show off ever muscle. Well, three weeks went by and a week before I was to leave for the contest I got a packet from the guy. I was asking stuff like the food I wanted for the weekend, the music I was gonna use, and then it asked for a complete list of my measurements. There was a drawing of a bodybuilder with arrows pointing to certain areas of the body. I had to have my roommate measure me for that info, I though it was strange to ask but, hey, I have never done a thing like this. However, I was eager to please. My roommate measured my wrists, ankles, neck, arms, chest, and so on. As I wrapped up my last week, I was soon on the plane heading for the contest. As I arrived, there was the guy holding up a sign that said 'Jeff'. I quickly waddled to him: you really can't walk when you have 34 inch thighs and weigh 278. His name was Tom, and was the owner of the gym that was putting on the contest. He quickly drove me to his small town, the ride took about 45 minutes. It was sort of strange, he asked me to take of my shirt and pants. I was sort of uncomfortable with this, but he said he was just wanting to see what he had purchased and with the money he was offering, I wasn't gonna say 'no'. We arrived just in time for the weigh in Friday night. We pulled up to the auditorium and before I had a chance to put on my clothes, Tom quickly said, 'just come on in, in your briefs, I want the guys to see a real bodybuilder." Okay, that made feel uncomfortable, but as I said, he's the boss. When I entered the room all the bodybuilders looked at me, I was easily the biggest guy there. They all gathered around me asking questions, telling me to pose, and wanting a picture. After all that, Tom took me to the hotel. After sleeping late and watching TV all day, it was time to head to the contest. Tom had arranged a ride for me there. As I arrived backstage, I was quickly stripped, covered in tan solution and oiled up by three huge guys, all bodybuilders. It was sort of strange, they didn't speak to me at all and were sort of rough. All of this got me heated, my dick throbbing from all the attention, the rubbing, the oil, and the idea of being nearly naked in front of a few hundred people. I started getting a erect, which was a problem, because in posing trunks, you can't hide your sword. After they had finished with me, they led me behind the curtain, I heard the MC announce me and before I knew it, it was time to pose. The music was loud and kicking. I had chosen my favorite Limp Bizkit song. During the routine, I jumped off-stage and went into the crowd. Walking around in front of everyone, hands grabbing me to touch my muscles, people taking pictures, got me so hard that I couldn't hide my excitement. Then the nightmare happened. Before I knew it, the crowd mobbed me and held me down. Before I knew it, my posing trunks were ripped off and I was tied up so tight, I could even move a finger. Some of the audience picked me up and carried me back to the stage. My heart was racing beneath my huge overdeveloped pecs, that you could actually see my big brown silver dollar nipples jumping up and down. Here I was being lifted up on stage naked and scared. After they got me on stage, a few of the others guys brought out this big metal box. As the rolled it to the center of the stage, the crowded yelled and screamed. To my fear, it came true, as the opened the box, I saw tons of cuffs and fasteners and straps, which I knew were specifically measured to my body. I could run or even scream due to the gag in my mouth. About six men place me in the box, securing my ankles, strapping in my thighs and waist, placing my wrist in the cuffs and even locking my neck in place my this huge metal stock. I must have taken at least 10 minutes to strap me in. However the audience did not tire, all I could see was a sea of clapping hands and flashbulbs going off. After they had strapped and locked me in, they closed the doors of this case I was in, then I felt it, a hand grabbing my dick and balls and pulling them out of the box. Here I was, in this metal case, all that was sticking out was my head and dick, next came the nightmare. As I was there all strapped in, the MC came over the loudspeaker and introduced Dr. Gary Wagner. This guy came up on stage next to me and shared with the audience that he was about to show the latest in bodybuilding supplements. I can't say I really listened due to the humiliation I was suffering, you see, I may be extremely huge and handsome, but you can't cover up a small dick. Before I knew it, the doctor had stuck a needle in my dick and neck. He announced to the audience to just sit back am be amazed. After the injection, that is when it went weird, I started feeling hot and short of breath. After a minute or so, I could feel the straps and cuffs getting tighter. I looked down as best as I could to see my pecs growing before my eyes, and then my dick. I could feel it getting harder and harder, to where the skin felt like it was going to split. As I was growing the doctor and some of the men started undoing the cuffs and straps, soon I was removed from the box. I could now see I was growing huge. My legs started moving further and further apart, my lats and chest grew so big, that my arms were sticking straight out due to the muscle of my lats pushing them out. The crowd screamed and hollered. I became scared, yet so excited, of my new size that my dick couldn't hold the excitement, I exploded. It was so powerful, that I sprayed the first two rows. People went crazy. Then the doctor brought out a scale. He then had some men place me on it...by this time, I was so huge, I couldn't move. The doctor then announced that I had just gone from 278lbs to 450lbs. The crowd cheered some more. Then Tom came out on stage, I could barely move my head due to my trap muscles locking my head in place. He announced I would be on display at the end of the contest. As I was moved to the lobby, I was shackled and tied up in chains, straps, and rope. The crowd came by, groping me, jacking me off, and squeezing me. I went on for all night. Every time someone would reach for my dick, I would try and beg them not too, but the gag held me back from pleading with them. Over and over again, my dick would be lubed up and jacked off. I had been jacked off so many times, that I felt like a dairy cow getting milked. Picture upon picture was taken of me. Measurements were taken, my arms now were a whopping 29 inches, my thighs were 42 inches, calves were 30 inches, and my dick was 14 inches and thicker than a baseball bat. There I stayed tied up so tight I could barely breath. Around 7a.m everyone had left. The doctor and Tom came up to me and thanked me for my services, I tried to cuss them, but again the gag held me from that luxury. The doctor injected me again with a purple looking fluid. Before long, my body started going back to the original form, I had never been so glad to see myself get smaller. Then, my head started feeling light and the light became dimmer. As I awoke, I found myself awake in the airplane. I looked around, no one else was in the plane, how strange I thought. As I arrived back to my dorm room, I found a check amounting to $25,000 in my suit case and a letter that read, "Jeff: Awesome show...let's do that again." It all felt like a dream to me, until I took of my clothes to take a shower. There, hanging to my knees, was the biggest dick I had ever seen. Apparently not all the side affects went away.
  7. Quite a few people have been in touch regarding a follow up, so here it is. It took ages, but I orgasmed twice writing it, so if you enjoyed the first instalment, this may do something for you! Link to previous instalment: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6200-memoirs-of-young-muscle-1/ --- Four months had passed since Alexander, who had made quite clear that he would go only by Alex, had first begun his training programme, funded by his wealthy, horny patron, under the auspices of some of the world's leading bodybuilding and strength training experts. The training had yielded some amazing results already, in spite of the fact that Alex had been so reluctant to give up on the diet he adored so much. It turned out that Mr. Richards, Alex's billionaire sponsor, did not mind this in the slightest. He was perfectly happy to watch the increasingly thickly muscled Alex eat huge quanities of pizza, steaks and fast food. It had proven a major turn on for Mr. Richards, who it seemed had unknowingly been long harbouring a fetish for big men overeating, expanding hard stomach walls and general slovenly behaviour from giant muscle men. So, there had been so reduction in his body fat levels. However nobody was complaining, as his muscular development was exemplary. He awoke one December morning in the lavishly decorated bedroom of Mr. Richards' Holland Park penthouse. The property magnate had been willing to spend some time in the US in order to find his subject, a young man so motivated by a desire to build muscle and sculpt himself into a god that he was willing for this aim to completely take over his life. However, having found Alex, he was very much in a rush to return to London, where he found his life to be somewhat more comfortable and familiar. Alex of course had no objections to the mountains of money and resources that he was set to receive and had spent these four months living a life of unimaginable luxury, alongside his regimental exercise schedule and frequent visits into Mr. Richards' bedroom. He was not out of shape himself and in spite of his overwhelming commitments to his various investments he managed to find time to make regular trips to the gym. He had a swimmer's build, a tiny waist ribbed with muscle that bulged and twisted as he moved. His abdominal muscles were perfect if slight and covered in soft and gently haired skin. His pecs were not large but well defined and formed a sexy self at the top of his relatively small frame. As Alex entered the gym, Mr. Richard's was just finished a set of pull ups. He performed these excercises in just his boxers, and as Alex crept up behind him silently he effortlessly lifted Mr. Richard's into the air and then off of the bar as he removed his hands from it. Holding his like a baby he then moved in and gave him a long and powerful kiss, Alex's beefy chest inflating and he drew in air from Mr. Richards' mouth. 'Oh boy, you're getting so strong, I felt light-headed when you took that breath out of me!' Alex carried his patron out of the gym and down the corridor to his bedroom. He was originally planning to go in and do some squats, but he momentariyl weighed up his options, looking down at his heaving massive muscular quads and juicy ass and deceided that fucking Mr. Richards may well be a better use of his time right now. After his comments regarding Alex's increased strength, the impressive 23 year old's dick had begun to rise to its full glory. By this point a meaty semi-erection occupied his skin tight boxer briefs. Generally the two of them fucked in silence, even though over these months they had become friends and enjoyed spending time together. Mr. Richards' morbid fascination with Alex's gigantic muscles and the intense pleasure that Alex felt when slipping his big manly fingers into his tight pink little asshole meant that both parties were fully occupied by the thoughts in thei head throughout. He dropped Mr. Richards onto the bed and immediately lifted his legs into the air. With his teeth he pulled off Mr. Richards' underpants and then began to run his tongue around the anus, gently to begin with and then rougher. He then moved to deepthroating the beautiful soft and fleshy penis, which gradually grew longer and harder. Once both men had reached a state of full erection, Alex lay on his back and let Mr. Richards worship his entire body as was their routine. Mr. Richards slight body was very mobile and he moved all over Alex with ease. Alex's toes it had been discovered, were erogenous zones, and when Mr. Richards sucked both of his big toes at the same time, Alex's whole enormous body would shudder with pleasure. Then, his with nipples hard and meaty, Mr. Richards would travel up to the bulky chest, holding the two slabs of pec meat in his hands, before leaning in and nibbling on those sensitive nipples. Alex rocked his head back and howled, making the walls of the room shake and his abdominals tighten. 'Okay Mr. Richards, you've got me going now, I can't wait anymore, give it me to me!' Mr. Richards obeyed and turned around, presenting his ass the Alex, who slipped an index finger in, causing Mr. Richards to moan like a bitch, shut his eyes and grit his teeth. It turned Alex on hugely, hearing his patron squeal with pleasure, just from a single finger! He imagined how shrill and intense hisscreams would become as he pounded his thick rod in and out of the soft ass. With two fingers now inside the anus, he leaned forward and was able to put his tongue further in. Mr. Richards, who had been dutifully sucking the dick that was about to be jammed in his hole, rolled his eyes back in his head. The salty joy that was Alex's pre-cum was dripping down his face and forming a puddle on the bed and it seemed that neither of them could resist any longer. Alex reached down and covered his hands in the pre-cum that was so liberally being spilled on the bed and used it to prepare Mr. Richards now significantly wider asshole for the trauma it was about to endure. He then lifted the man up as though he weighed nothing and slid him onto the waiting 12 incher. He entered so slowly, because he loved to see Mr Richards' face as his insides became filled with the massive cock. Instead of thrusting his hips, Alex preferred to show off his strength by lifting Mr Richards under his armpits, and then placing his hands on his shoulders and pushing him back down. Precum continued leaking out of his ass, and Mr Richards was aware of the warm fluid entering his body. Alex grew tired of this quickly, and lifted Mr Richards off his dick slowly, then laying him on his back and sticking his rod back inside so he could begin fucking more quickly and powerfully. The tension built and reached an unbearable level. As Alex felt he was about to come he moved into give Mr Richards a gentle kiss, and having shown his soft side for a moment he stood up straight and roared 'HURGHHHHHHHHHHHH' before unleashing his load in the spent billionaire's hole. He hit a front double biceps pose, kissing each bulging sphere of muscle once before exhaling deeply and pulling his cock out, following by a stream of thick, hot cum. Mr Richards had a smile on his face like the Mona Lisa as he stood up and got out of bed. 'Another stellar performance Alex. This arrangement is still working well. I'll leave you for the rest of today to get to the gym, I think Franco said he was going to really work your legs today. They're looking great, but we need them bigger! And stronger! I can't wait until the next time I get to wear those big manly thighs like a necklace.' As he walked out of the bedroom on his way to the office he slapped Alex on the butt cheekily. The young bodybuilder grinned. This was everything he had ever wanted, an opportunity to build his muscle, live a life of unlimited material pleasures and fuck whenever he felt like it. More confusingly, he was starting to develop feelings for the man who was making all this possible.
  8. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 8

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

    Blue Pill Part 7

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

    Memoirs of Young Muscle 1

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

    Growth Part 12

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE Part 8 HERE Part 9 & 10 HERE Part 11 HERE 12 I racked the mammoth weight I had just benched for countless reps and laid back on the bench. Pain ripped though my blood-engorged pecs and sweat formed a puddle around me. Slowly I stood up and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My pecs were pumped to their full 67” girth. I flexed them and relished the feeling of the dense muscle pushing up my chin. I stared at my mutated body and started to get hard at the site. I weighted myself at 365lbs this morning. I closed my eyes and recalled of the horrified reactions I received on my way to the gym. Comments like “gross”, “too much” and “that’s sick” only made me harder. I loved being a massive abomination of what people think is normal and right. Their disgust only made me want more. I added more weight and preformed 12 perfect reps before reaching the rack. I glanced across the room to see a competitive bodybuilder squatting the same amount of weight. I chuckled and added two more plates for a total of 585lbs. I was feeling unstoppable today. As I waddled towards the locker room I heard a commotion from the gym owners office. A guy wearing a hoodie came out of the room, head down, walking fast. He clearly wasn't paying attention because he slammed into my shoulder and to my surprise; almost knocked me over. “HEY; watch where you’re going!” I yelled but he was already halfway down the hall. I poked my head into the owner’s office “Everything ok Grant?” “Yeah Dave. It’s my son Matt.” Matt? I thought. Wasn’t he that skinny kid Tyler and I caught watching us that day… “He’s pissed I won’t give him more cash. Little ungrateful asshole” Grant continued. I quickly left the office and headed down the hallway in the direction Matt was heading. I saw the back door of the gym was open and stepped into the alley. It was getting late so it was a little hard to see. To my left I heard what sounded like a grunting noise and then a loud crash. I moved towards the sound and stopped dead in my tracks. There, a guy was unleashing lightning fast combinations onto the side of a huge metal dumpster. Deep dents had already formed in a few places. I must has let out a gasp because the guy stopped and turned towards me. “Matt?” He pulled down his hood and squared his shoulders. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Even with his bulky clothes I could see that this was not the same 200lb kid we busted a while back. “What the fuck do you want?” “What the fuck do I want? I want to know what the hell you are doing out here destroying that dumpster.” I said and stepped closer to the kid. “Mind your fucking business.” Matt replied and turned back to the dumpster and slammed his fist into it hard. I reached to grab hold of his shoulder but he spun around quickly before of could touch him. “What did I just say?!” He screamed in my face. “Kid; you need to calm down before you piss me off.” I said. Matt’s eyes scanned my pumped, sweaty body. He took a step back and licked his lips. “You are so fucking massive. I mean, you were huge the first time I saw you but you look like you've gained over 20lbs since then.” “Try 30.” I said. “It looks like you’ve put on some weight yourself.” Matt smiled and slowly peeled his sweatshirt off to reveal his upper body. I had to take a step back at the site. “Some weight? Try 55lbs in less then three months” Matt said. “Bu-but-but…” “255lbs and 3% bodyfat” Matt said. He tucked his balled up fists behind his back and flared his staggeringly wide lats. “Damn kid” was all I could muster. Even though he was considerably smaller then me, I could not get over his proportions. He had incredible round delts, thick powerful arms and a minuscule waist. His skin was very pale but it could not hide the mind boggling network of veins and striations that covered every inch. “You know; I should thank you. That day you and Tyler found me watching you in the gym was the worse day of life. You two were so cruel to me I seriously considered never stepping into a gym again. I always hated being small and weak and seeing you two just made it all the more clear that I was a fucking twink. But the more I thought abut the more angry I got. Then I met Clint and everything changed. I’ve done nothing but lift weights since that day. Did you know I was in the audience the day Tyler annihilated the competition at the bodybuilding show? I was a lot smaller then but I wanted to run on stage and tear him apart. Fortunately Clint calmed me down. That day only made me focus even harder. You probably think you are a demon in the gym; but that’s nothing compared to me.” To make his point; Matt raised his arms in Sergio Oliva’s famous “Victory Pose”. His thick, vascular forearms exploded with mass. The veins travelled down his dense, gigantic biceps. Even with his arms spread apart to accommodate his huge shoulders, there was little space between the two arms. He then slowly lowered his arms and hit a perfect double bicep pose. His whole body shook from the effort. “They just reached 20 inches flexed. It makes me sick that they are so small.” “There is nothing small about those Kid” I said and raised my own 26” arms and flexed. “I like your determination in the gym but you have a LONG way to go to reach this level.” Matt’s eyes widened as he stared at my mind-boggling size but I saw a flash of rage when I said that. He moved towards the battered dumpster and gripped the thick metal side. His arms, back and shoulders ignited and the container started to move. He dug his legs into the ground and started to push; hard. Before I could react the dumpster came barrelling towards me. I placed my hands on it but his momentum was too great. I slammed into the brick wall of the gym as the dumpster crashed into my chest. “What the FUC-“ Matt continued to push the heavy dumpster; pinning me against the wall. He was growling like a rabid animal. “I’ve wanted to test my strength against you for a long time. I want this to hurt as much as you and Tyler hurt me that day.” Matt’s entire upper body was nothing but flexed, granite hard, vascular muscle. He adjusted his legs and pressed harder. The heavy metal dumpster pressed against my chest. My arms were pressed tight to my sides, preventing me from getting a good grip. I flexed my chest. I felt the dumpster move slightly but Matt was well anchored to the ground. His quads were shaking and his once baggy sweats were skin tight. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” I screamed. I managed to place one foot on the wall behind me and started to push. Matt moved back a small bit but held his ground. Sweat was pouring from his body. He raised his head, closed his eyes and started to press harder. To my amazement, his body started to expand. The once hulking kid now looked absolutely massive. His extreme vascularity looked downright grotesque. His veins looked like thick ropes criss-crossing his pale, shiny skin. I planted my foot on the wall and pressed hard. I was able to move the heavy dumpster just enough to move my hands into a better position. I started to press. Blood filled my already pumped chest. I felt my massive body swell with power. Matt had a look of fear in his eyes as the dumpster started to move. After 30 seconds I was able to step to the side. The dumpster slammed into the side of the building, sending chucks of brick into the air. Matt was pressing so hard he fell to his knees. I wasted no time. I stepped towards the kid and landed a brutal kick to his side. I don’t know if he was ready for me or not but my foot connected with his flexed obliques. There was a loud thud and pain shot up my leg. It felt like I just kicked a concrete wall. Matt smiled and stood up and faced me. His body was as pumped as any I had ever seen. He looked like he was carved from stone. His traps and shoulders betrayed the proportions of a normal human. The effect was amplified by his thick, striated chest and minuscule waist. “Try that again” he said and flared his lats and flexed his abs. I almost had to stifle a gag as his already defined abs transformed into a solid column of muscle. I spin around and swung my inhumanly massive leg as hard as could. I connected with his hard etched obliques again. The impact was so powerful Matt was pushed two feet to his left but he remained standing. The fact that Matt was able to withstand that kick threw me into a rage. This jacked up kid was nothing compared to my massive 365lb body. I moved with lightning speed. I slammed my shoulder into Matt’s chest. He stumbled back. I wrapped my thick arms around his ripped upper body and started to apply pressure. His muscles tightened; they felt like metal plates shifting. With my mouth pressed against his sweaty neck I whispered “You feel that kid? That’s what real power feels like. I could crush you like a grape if I wanted”. “Try” Matt said with a grunt. I smiled and applied more pressure. I could feel his whole body shake: trying to break my bearhug. “Harder!” Matt screamed. My dick hardened hearing the kid ask for more torture. He was stronger than he looked. I grunted and applied my full strength. I must have been caught up in the moment and didn’t realize how close we were to the wall. Matt was able to place his feet against the brick and like a leg press, started to push. Suddenly, I heard a tearing sound. I looked down and saw Matt’s sweats disintegrate. He let out a loud scream and pushed with all his might. I stumbled back and released him from my grip. Matt turned to face me. He grabbed hold of the remaining pant material and tore it off, revealing his incredible quads and calves. If it was possible; they were more vascular than his upper body. A disgusting network of views covered every inch of their pale skin. Deep cuts and striations erupted as they moved. Each massive quad was clearly bigger then his waist. His calves were something else altogether. If his mammoth quads were 30” his calves had to be close to 20”. Their exaggerated proportions were enhanced only by their extreme conditioning. Clearly seeing my reaction Matt slowly flexed his legs. His hands caressed each quad as they increased in size and hardness. “Clint can barely look at these legs without cumming” Matt said with a smirk. “Just wait until they are twice as big as yours and even more ripped”. I couldn’t help but get turned on by Matt’s pump engorged body. I adjusted my hardening cock causing him to crack a smile. “I thought you only had eyes for Tyler?” he asked. “I do but I can’t deny that your body is turning me on.” “Likewise. Show me your massive body” Matt said, licking his lips. I peeled off my sweat soaked tank top and revealed my 365lb body. I pulled my shorts up as high as they would go. I planted my feet and started to hit pose as pose. Matt’s eyes widened as my humungous body grew larger. “Feel me get freaky huge kid” I commanded. Matt stopped close and started to touch my hot, sweaty skin. He traced the deep muscle separation between my arms and shoulders. His strong hands squeezed each striation as I flexed harder. He moaned as his hand cupped my thick pec. When it flexed into granite hard muscle he squeezed it harder. I was grunting and holding each flex long enough for him to inspect every inch. “Fucking Massive” was all he could say, repeatedly. To send him over the edge, I started to recite my inhuman stats. “Arms 26”, forearms 21”, neck 20”, chest 67”, waist 36”, quads 34”, calves 22”” Matt’s body tensed and shuddered as I spoke each number. He looked ready to climax and he had yet to touch himself, he just continued to feel my huge body. I raised my arms into a brutal double bicep flex. Matt ran his hands down my thick triceps and flared lats. When his hands reached my etched abs he took a step back. With incredible speed he rammed his left leg into my stomach. I was caught off guard by the ferocious impact and stumbled backwards. Matt moved towards me again, grabbed my around the waist and with a savage grunt, lifted me off the ground. He pumped his huge legs a few times and slammed me into the brick wall. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs. I feel to my knees. “You might be huge but you are still an fucking asshole” Matt screamed. He then swung his leg around and connected with my chin. Pain ran through my head and neck and I collapsed on the ground. I was still conscious when I saw him approach me. I felt his strong hands dig into my meaty traps. Intense pain coursed through my neck as he lifted me to my feet. I couldn’t comprehend how powerful he was. Before I knew what was happening Matt repositioned his arms and lifted me clear off the ground. He had one hand around my neck and the other between my legs. With a growl, he lifted me higher and slammed my body across his leg. Unbearable pain shot through my abs and lower back. He pushed my off his leg onto the ground. Unable to move I watched Matt stand up and stand over me. He had a savage look on his face and was breathing hard. He took a few laboured steps away, his extremely pumped quads were clearly making walking difficult. “STAND UP!” he yelled. I slowly regained some motor skills and was able to move into a kneeing position. I stood up but had to steady myself against the wall. I shook my head; trying to comprehend what was happening. How was this kid so strong? As if reading my mind Matt said “You’ve never thought I had this much power in this small body did you? Well asshole, I’m not done yet.” With another exhibition of his incredible quickness, Matt ran towards me and slammed his shoulder into my exposed abdomen. He then wrapped his arms around me, positioned his legs and hoisted me across his shoulders. With a grunt he stood straight up. “Your big 365lb body feels lighter than I expected” he said with a chuckle and started to perform squats. “Fuck, these quads are so PUMPED!” I tried to move but he clamped down harder and stood up straight. “You’re not going anywhere.” Matt said and started to walk towards the busted dumpster. With another savage grunt he repositioned his hands and to my utter horror started to press my body over his head. His arms were shaking but they continued to lift me higher. With my full body weight suspended above his head Matt’s let out a ear piercing scream and launched me into the side of the dumpster. My body slammed hard against the metal container and I crumpled in a heap on the ground. Matt grabbed one of my feet and dragged my alone the ground for a few feet. He then pulled me up so I was in a slumped sitting position in the dark alley. “I’m having a great fucking time tearing you apart but I’m hungry as hell. I need to add some fuel to this growing body.” he said and took a few steps back. “I guess we’ll have to finish this later” He said and started to move towards me. I didn’t have time to react. The last thing I remember was seeing Matt’s thick quad moving with lightning speed towards my face.
  12. Guest

    (Un)even rivals (4)

    Four Chris was preparing his bag for his upcoming trip: he would be out of town for two weeks to compete in a level 1-event and the San Francisco-masters. He gazed up and turned his head around as he thought he heard a deep, beastly roar coming from the house next door. He gulped as it reminded him of his cousin's deep voice from his nightmare. "Must be imagining things", he said to himself and went into the bathroom to fetch some stuff. He had to grab the washbasin for support when a feeling of weakness fell over him. His vision went dark for a split second and his knees buckled while goose bumps appeared all over his body. He blinked a few times and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His tank top still clung to his well-trained, 215 pound frame but he could swear something was off: his wide, rounded shoulders that normally formed a strong line seemed to hunch forward slightly and his protruding pecs seemed to hang down a bit lower against his tank top as if his big muscles were pulled down by gravity. "Lack of sleep is getting to me", he said and discarded the thought. He grabbed his razor and toothbrush and put them in his bag. He tossed his bag over his shoulder and went downstairs. Next to his car keys on the kitchen table he found a note. "Some inspiration to bring back the gold" He turned the note around and discovered a picture of his girlfriend in her tiny, black bikini. He put the picture in his wallet and left, feeling a bit uneasy having to leave his girl behind. Ted had finished cleaning the cum-stained bathroom, pulled on a fresh tank top and his baggy hoodie and went out for a workout. He felt the energy flowing through his veins and his balls pulsing as they released amounts of testosterone in his body. He saw his cousin putting a bag in his car and headed over. "YO, Chrissy". Chris nearly jumped up as he heard the deep voice. He turned around and instinctively took a step back as he saw his big cousin strutting toward him. He looked up into 6 feet tall teen's eyes. Ted couldn't suppress a faint grin as he noticed his muscular cousin stepping back from him. "Recovered from our arm wrestling, Chrissy? Just say when ya want a rematch. I'ld love to wipe yar ass again", Ted said and intently stopped very close to his cousin. Chris gulped and tried not to look intimidated but his big cousin standing just inches in front of him, made him feel uncomfortably. His feeling of physical supremacy, regained during his shower-fuck, evaporated as he was reminded of his defeat. The musky smell surrounding the big guy added to his unease. "Just kiddin', Chrissy", Ted said and laughingly patted his cousin's muscular shoulder, "Ya going on a trip?". Chris relaxed a bit at the teen's smile but suppressed a grunt from the surprisingly hard pat. "Off two weeks to compete. Defending my titles.", he said while scanning his cousin's big frame hidden under the baggy hoodie. Ted followed his cousin's gaze and grabbed his right arm, playfully closing his big paw around the 20 inch bicep he destroyed last night. "How's yar arm feeling? Hurting after I crushed it?", he asked and clenched his paw some more around the hard muscle. "I'm fine", Chris said, his voice cracking slightly as his aching bicep was dented by the paw. He cleared his throat while the surprisingly hard grip released the strong orb of meat atop his right arm. "Could you do me a favor, Ted", he asked as he looked back up into his cousin's eyes. "Ya name it", Ted replied with a smug grin on his face. "Would you mind keeping an eye on Trisha? First time she can't come with me cause of her work. You're family and live next door, so…", Chris asked. "No worries, Chrissy. I'll take care of her", Ted answered. "Thanks a lot, Ted", Chris stated and extended his hand to his cousin. Ted grabbed his cousin's hand, his big paw engulfing it and shook it powerfully. Chris winced a little, a faint painful grunt escaping his mouth and pulled his hand from the strong grip. Or tried to. Ted grinned as he felt his cousin trying to break free. "See ya in two weeks, Chrissy", he said and opened his paw. Chris got in his car and drove off, seeing his cousin's smiling reflection in his side mirror. Jeremy put the voodoo doll at the bottom of his bag and left his uncle's gym in a hurry. He jumped into his car and raced off to the airport, happy he hadn't run into the teen beast and wouldn't have to see him for two weeks. He felt energy flowing through him and strutted proudly across the crowd. He noticed his rival Chris standing at the check-in and thought the guy already looked less intimidating. He followed him from a distance, feeling stronger and more confident by his rival diminished aura. He got in line for the flight a bit behind his rival and installed himself at the rear of the plane. Arriving in San Francisco, he took a cab to his hotel. He strutted through the hallway, checked in and got to his room on the second floor. As soon as he entered his room, Jeremy tossed his bag on the floor and fished out the voodoo doll. He went into the bathroom and stripped in front of the mirror. Strength flowed through his 209 pound body as he went through some poses, highlighting his excellent shape. He grabbed the doll and clenched his fist around it. Instantly, he felt more energy coursing through him. A few blocks away, Chris felt a sudden surge of weakness come over him in his hotel room. The room danced before his eyes, his knees buckled and he crashed down atop his bed. "Must be some kind of jetlag", he muttered to himself before passing out in a deep, dark sleep. "Yeah", Jeremy grunted to his reflection. He could swear his muscles were getting more defined in the mirror. He flexed his chest a final time, striations and veins pushed up against his skin and went to sleep as he gave the voodoo doll another squeeze. Back at home, Ted was having the workout of a lifetime. The double dose of his new steroid atop his usual dose of old steroids pumped energy and testosterone through his huge body. He had set new personal records on every lift, pushing more weight and pumping out more reps than ever. He'd been in the deserted gym, filling it with his grunts and roars, for three hours and moved into the final part of his grueling workout: smashing his arm muscles. His arms, together with his shoulders, had always responded best to his training. The 25 inch orbs of power atop his arms dwarfed his other huge muscles. "Let's see what my babies can with their new fuel", he groaned to himself as he grabbed the heaviest dumbbells. He raised the 130 pound dumbbells slowly and lowered them back down with perfect control. "Feels like a feather", he said and began cranking out perfect rep after perfect rep. Blood began flowing into the meaty masses, a web of veins branching off the thick vein that snaked from his delts over the biceps onto his thick forearms. "More", he gritted between his teeth as he kept moving the weight up and down, pumping more blood into his swelling biceps. In his sweatpants, his plump dick followed this lead and blood began inflating the thick shaft. "Bigger", he grunted in between fastening breaths. His pumped biceps began burning painfully, stretching his skin as he forced the muscles to grow bigger. The burning sensation turned into a stabbing pump, his arms shaking from the effort but Ted kept cranking out reps. His dick had hardened fully, its 10 inches tenting the front of his sweatpants and a small dark patch forming where his precum flowed from the dark red head. "50", he grunted as he lifted the dumbbells a final time and tossed them on the floor. He ripped off his sweat drenched tank top and moved in front of the big mirror. He extended his arms, marveling at the size of the stretched, shiny red biceps. He brought in his forearms, his arms shaking with cramps as the pumped muscles protested against the command of flexing. His biceps balled outward into perfectly rounded orbs that swelled atop his arms; their peaks rose up and up and up, a web of curly veins pushed up against his stretching skin. "FU…UGH…UGH…UGH…CK", he roared as his biceps swelled beyond their familiar 25 inches and stopped just over 26. His dick jolted, its dark red head popping up over his waistband and exploded: cum geysered upward in the air, splattering against his face, pecs and abs. Ted lowered his left hand and stroked his spasming shaft, coating the mirror and the weights with his thick cum while he kept flexing his beastly right arm. After ten blasts, his orgasm wore down and Ted grinned at his cum-drenched reflection in the cum-stained mirror. He lowered his right arm and strutted toward the shower, jerking off once more as the hot water cascading down on his pumped muscles pulled his cock back to hardness. A few days went by and the level 1-event leading up to the San Francisco masters began. Even though he weighted exactly the same as he did during his previous competition, Chris' body seemed somehow less intimidating. But as usual the champ cruised through the opening rounds, his 215 pound physique still besting his opponents, and proceeded to the final. Jeremy came in radiating confidence as he felt the energy from the curse flowing through his 209 pound body. His flexing was more graceful than ever and he too cruised into the semis. There, his road into the finals was surprisingly blocked by Tom, a local athlete that had been handed a wildcard into the event. Jeremy outsized Tom by a good 10 pounds, but was less ripped: the thin layer of fat covering his muscles from his winter bulk, made him look softer than the 199 pound Tom. The guy's vacuum ab-pose handed him the ticket into the final, leaving Jeremy frustrated on stage. Chris didn't really care about his opponent: he'd always focused on his own physique and continued this approach. In the final, the 16 pound difference he held, secured his win. He outsized the local guy in every pose and his own ripped yet seemingly lessened body dominated in every pose. Tom tried putting up a good show but whatever he tried, the champ did better. When Chris threw his signature pose, the back double bicep, Tom just stared in awe as the muscles on the champ's wide back mounded against each other and his intimidating arms rose into their 21 inched orbs of hard meat. Tom shook the champ's hand and gladly accepted second place with a smile as broad as Chris' one. Jeremy was in a foul mood back in his hotel room. He could accept his loss to Tom: he had been neglecting his own training because of the voodoo curse and his own physique was a bit off. But the news off Chris's victory made him roar in anger. He grabbed the voodoo doll and squeezed it with all his might. Instantly, a wave of energy flowed through him. "I'll get back to him next week at the master-event", he said and went to bed. The week went by and soon enough the San Francisco masters were up. Jeremy felt more energized with every passing day and felt atop his game going into the competition. He easily won his opening line up and the next round. In the quarter finals however, he bumped into Tom again. Just like a week earlier, the guy's rippedness sealed Jeremy's faith: the judges unanimously declared Tom the winner of the line up and made him advance to the semis. Jeremy's frustration nearly exploded as he heard that his big rival Chris was cruising through the competition and was to meet Tom in the final on Sunday. The night before the big final the full moon illuminated the San Francisco sky. In his bed Jeremy felt an enormous wave of energy hitting his body. He awoke from his deep sleep and stumbled into the bathroom, gasping at his reflection as he turned on the light: most of his body fat seemed to have evaporated from his body. He looked a good 20 pounds lighter but striations and veins decorated his relaxed muscles. " All my fat must have gone to Chris", he said and returned to bed. The final got underway but from the beginning it was clear that Chris would win. The 20 pounds of fat that had somehow beefed him up, had softened his intimidating muscles but handed him an 36 pound advantage on his opponent. Tom came in at his prime: ripped and vascular but his 199 pound physique was simply overshadowed by the champ. Chris' huge muscles looked a bit saggy and his flexes lacked their usual explosion of masculinity, but his size simply couldn't be denied. Tom did beat him in the vacuum ab-pose but lacked the real size in the other flexes. Chris took the win, his sixth consecutive master-event and prepared himself to get home. Back at home Ted's two weeks had gone by like a breeze: he'd had the most fantastic workouts ever and was horny all day. His gains had been fairly slow, only 5 pounds, but his housemate had told him to be patient with the experimental stuff. He got home from the gym and stepped out of his car and stepped over to the house next door. He took the spare key Trisha had given him and went in. He looked around the house to check if everything was ok. "What took you?". Ted turned around to find Trisha standing naked atop the stairs. He rushed up, pulled down his sweatpants as he reached her to free his hardening cock, pushed Trisha back against the wall and eagerly pushed his rock-hard 10 incher inside her. "Oh God", she grunted as the thick shaft invaded her. Ted kept pushing more and more of his dick into her tight pussy. "Yeah. So much bigger than Chris. God", Trisha groaned as the thick snake pushed deeper inside her. When half of Ted's cock was inside her, spasms shot through her frail 120 pound body and her juices flowed along the hot pole. Ted felt the wetness along his rock-hard shaft and drove two more inches of his meat into her. He positioned his hands against the wall and began driving his cock back and forth into her, gently. Incoherent sounds escaped Trisha's mouth, her hands clawed into the hoodie covering Ted's torso as the teen beast began fucking her. She was being shoved up against the wall by the force of his trusts, her eyes widening in disbelief and sheer lust as her feet left the floor. Ted's big balls drew tight and began to churn as he completely dominated his cousin's girlfriend, supporting her with just his 10 incher. "YEAUGHN!", he bellowed deeply as his orgasm exploded into her, filling her with his sticky juice. Black dots of pleasure danced in Trisha's sight and she fell limp against the teen beast, her head resting atop his protruding, heaving pecs. Ted felt the pressure build around his cock as more loads blasted from his balls into Trisha. Cum was already sliding from her, flowing along the exposed three inches of his cock onto his balls before sliding along the crevices of his thick thighs. After ten blasts his orgasm cooled down and he slowly withdrew from Trisha. He wrapped his right arm around her, easily lifting her up against his big frame, pulled up his pants with his left hand and carried her to bed. He gently put her atop the bed and went home.
  13. Mickyh29

    Big Jack Pt1

    Hey Guys, been a while since i last posted a story on here, so heres my newest entry. enjoy!! This is a story about Jack, Jack is no ordinary 19yr old……………. “COME ON ONE MORE!!!!” shouted Dean, Dean was jacks training partner. “ARRRGGGHHHHHH” grunted Jack as he lifted the last of his 12 reps on bench press on to the rack, jack stood up and looked in the mirror, staring back at him was a sight that drew gasps from both dean and others in the gym. Jack was a 6ft brick shit house. His chest was rippling with thick dense rock hard muscle, the vest he had on could not contain the sheer size of his pecs, they were so thick every time he breathed in the vest would ride up his torso And begin to tear under the sheer mass of his chest. “add another 25kg on each side mate” he asked dean Dean placed the weights onto the bar which was already loaded with 300kg, bringing it upto 350kg. Jack repped out another 12 reps like it was nothing, re racked the bar and got up again. “This is to easy, I need a real challenge! Whack another 100 on!” Dean added the required weight so that the bar had 450kg loaded on it. “ Man this is crazy shit jack, can’t believe what you’re doing, your pressing over 4x my body weight!!” “Well when you’re as big n strong as me there’s no room for light weights, its heavy as fuck or nothing at all, you don’t get pecs like these by lifting sissy weights!!” Jack bounced his enormous pecs, each bounce shifted his perilously frail vest close to breaking point. Jack laid down on the bench, got his tree trunk arms into position and with a mighty grunt lifted the bar from the rack, each rep was greeted with an almighty grunt, his pecs were bulging with blood pumping round his massive chest. Jack managed 8 reps before re racking. He stood up. “Arrrghhhhhh, im fucking pumped man, look at me? This is what u call pure beastly muscle!!” Jack was pumped, like nothing anyone had ever seen , he moved closer to the mirror, ripped off his vest to reveal the rest of his enormous body, his pecs still filled with blood and rippling from his bench press, sweat was dripping down to his stomach which resembled a block of marble which had had eight large chunks carved into it, his triceps were also rippling from the routine, his tri’s n bi’s were huge at least 35” round, veins snaking down to his beefed up forearms, his giant boulder shoulders looked strong enough to barge through brick walls, his meaty traps stretched up his thick bull neck and his lats were two thick slabs of rock jutting out of his sides. It truly was a sight to behold for everyone not at least dean who was trying so hard to hide his erection going on in his pants. “Jesus jack you look incredible, I’d hate to see a guy cross you!!” dean said with a hint of jealousy. “if they did, they would end up like this!” Jack picked up an olympic sized barbell with no weights on and began to bend it in half like it was made out of rubber, then tossed it aside. “anyway dean im 400lb of freaking huge muscle, I’d be surprised if anyone would cross me!!” Dean gave a laugh of a guy who was like ‘yeah I suppose so but really wanna see it’. “true enough, ok now its my go!!” Dean was inferior to Jack in height, weight and strength so before he could even start his lifting he had to take 400kg worth of weight of the bar. Dean was only 17 and had the physique of a track n field athlete, so he was fairly toned with a bit of size but that size looked skinny compared to Jacks mammoth size. So with 50kg left on the bar dean started his routine. Even though Jack and Dean were good friends jack always took the piss out of dean for his inferior showings, mostly to try and spur him on but also to show his superiority and dominance over him, dean could not help but feel intimidated by jack, he daren’t tell him to shut up or go away in slight trepidation of what jack might do. “ Come on you skinny git, call that heavy lifting I can’t even see your pecs there that small and feeble, if you don’t start tryin harder im gonna crush you, now LIFT!!!” jack’s booming shout reverberated around the gym. Dean finished his first set and sat up, “ Jesus jack im tryin alright!!” Dean bit back a little. “that’s not trying that’s playing safe, you wanna grow ? You want to lift heavy!!! That isn’t heavy look!” Jack then proceeded to lift the loaded bar of the rack with one hand and start repping some shoulder presses, after 20 reps he re racked the bar. “see!!” “alright jack stop showing off ya big headed freak!!” dean sarcastically replied. “Jealous you skinny fuck? Well you better be coz unlike you I wanna grow! I wanna get bigger and stronger than ever before.” “ well maybe you do mate but im an athlete, my sport does not require me to get big n bulky, so i maintain what I have!” Dean tried to hide the fact he actually likes jack being all dominant etc coz it makes him hard, and whether jack will like the fact that dean loves being with this muscle mammoth. After dean had finished his chest routine he and jack decided to hit some biceps. As Jack was so big and strong the dumbells the gym had were to light for him so jack had to curl using an Olympic bar and plates, he started of light by curling 100kg for 15 reps, “easy!! Whack another 250kg on dean.” Dean added the weight. Jack composed himself, lifted the bar off the ground and slowly started to curl the 350kg bar, with each curl his massive biceps ballooned to unprecedented sizes, thick veins popped and stretched with every move, after hitting 10 reps he placed the bar back on the floor, looked in the mirror and hit a double bi pose, his biceps bulged and formed a gargantuan mound of granite muscle that looked bigger than his head, he relaxed then hit it again this time managing to squeeze an extra inch on top of his already impressive bi’s. Dean had never seen jack hit a bi pose before, his cock was now so hard it was making an impression in his shorts. “ WOW jack they are awesome man fucking huge!! Im gobsmacked!” “I can see your impressed, I only have to look at your shorts to notice that, ya big gay, come over here?” Dean walked over to where jack was, the size comparison was breathtaking, next to jack dean looked like a twig. “take your top off” jack asked Dean didn’t dare disagree so he took his shirt off, his tight body glistened with sweat. “now stand infront of me and flex!” Dean flexed his biceps, moderate sized peaks appeared from his arms, they looked pretty cut but looked no bigger than 15”. To rub the salt in more jack then flexed his bi’s behind him, his bi’s clearly 3x the size of deans. Then without warning Jack picked dean up and started curling him, every curl took deans face to within cms of jacks biceps, jack curled dean 20 times before putting him down. “you like that gay boy, your cock sure did!!” Dean looked down and saw a dark grey wet patch were he had cummed, he looked up and said, “ that was awesome!!” Jack and Dean made their way to the changing room.
  14. Guest

    The Competitor

    He muscle-strutted across the stage one more time. A huge golden trophy in one hand. Punching the air with the other, to the rhythm of the audience chanting “Shadow... Shadow... Shadow...” He’d earned his moniker by just appearing on the scene - in a huge freaky condition, and then disappearing again, only resurfacing for the annual Olympia competition. This was his fourth year winning the title - easily beating off the other competitors. Huge as they were, some of them looking like teen amateurs in his presence. The audience beneath the stage were going wild. Shadow had something of a cult status. As he strutted around, in his wet-look black posers, barely able to cover his huge glutes, they took as many photos and videos of the 370 lb muscle beast as fast as their cameras could flash. These photos would fill tweets and tumblrs, be the stuff of dream jerk-off material for the following year. Theories about where he lived, how he grew, and how big he could get, would populate blogs and discussion forums, fiercely debated by people “in the know”. Theories about his age ranged from 20, because of his face, to 40, because of his size. Shadow’s size this year was at least 50 lbs bigger than last... and coming in at less than 5% bodyfat, every muscle ripped and swollen glistened brightly under the stage lights. His tightly cropped black hair matched his posers as it glistened, shining. His model-handsome face, square jawed with groomed short black beard gave him a look of supreme confidence, matching the golden tanned shiny body he carried with such swagger and poise. Shadow was a God. Just in case anyone forgot, the fans in the audience regularly shouted it out. As the music died down in the final moments of his victory strut, Shadow returned to the centre of the stage. The audience roars grew in volume, knowing what was coming next. A Shadow-down. He placed the huge golden muscle statue trophy between his legs and stood up straight slowly. Encouraging the roaring and shouts with his palms, he looked out in to the audience and grinned at his fans - devotees to his presence. Slowly, matching the rise in pitch of the audience cries, he raised his huge arms and twisted them so that the biceps started to swell even more. Pulling and locking into a full bicep pose - each ‘cep bigger than his head and vascular beyond belief - he rotated at the hips slightly so that everyone got a full view. The flashes from the camera were so constant that his both was bathed in a bright light, making it glisten even more. Then he moved into a crab position, flexing arms traps and delts, spreading his lats and shaking out his enormous thighs. Every one of his fibres were flexed to the max. The audience noise actually dimmed - Shadow had grown so much for this year’s competition, that he was resembling a living morph. He stood straight again, grinning at the noise reduction. All of a sudden, he grabbed his trophy and strutted off stage, each huge quad walking awkwardly around the other. As Shadow stepped behind the curtain, he stepped onto a small square platform, barely able to take his stance, his legs were spread so wide due to his enormous quads. He was breathing heavily with the effort of moving and flexing his huge frame, and his chest heaved up and down with each breath. As well as the oil, a film of sweat covered him, so even here, out of the glare of the lights, his body glistened. Shadow waited a moment on the platform, as if just focussing on being there. While he did, two men - both hugely muscular themselves, but looked like track athletes next to the mass of Shadow - approached him. As one reached down to the platform, the other stood behind Shadow. He reached around and fixed a mouthpiece with a funnel into Shadow’s mouth, pulling it tightly. The muscular beast didn’t resist, seemingly not noticing, and just stood there breathing. The guy laughed. "Fuckin huge bull trained so well at this stage, eh?" He then pulled a collar with silver studs “MUSCLE” around and clamped it on Shadow's thick, muscular neck. It was tight enough to press against his arteries, making them bulge visibly with each pump of the heart. Meanwhile his colleague was busy at Shadow's ankles. He pulled up out of the platform a kind of oily black material, pulling it up over his ankles and legs. It was a bodysuit, made of latex, with the interior slick wet. After it passed the ankles, the second man attached ankle collars and chained them to the bottom of the platform. He pulled the suit up, with some difficulty as it was so tight, around Shadow's calves, and then working slowly and methodically, over the huge quads. The material was so tight and shiny it looked like oil poured on the huge muscle. The man was clearly enjoying his work; slapping the muscle and massaging the huge latex bound beast as he worked to encase him. As the bodysuit finally came up towards Shadow's posers, which were the same colour and texture, the first man reached into a bag and lifted out several small silicon balls. He held them in one hand while pulling Shadow's tight black posers out with the other. He cupped the balls and placed them into Shadow's crotch. They were buzzing as he did. Releasing the poser strap with a snap, the balls resonated together to create a gentle, persistent buzzing in Shadow's crotch. He looked at Shadow, expecting a reaction, but nothing more than a gulp was perceptible. A small bit of drool appeared on the edge of his mouth, which the man wiped away. "Need the Bull in perfect fucking condition for your show later", he said, wiping it away. As his colleague worked the body suit up Shadow's torso, the shiny material revealing every cut and shred and vein of the magnificent physique, the first sprayed some oil on the torso just before it was covered. "Want him nice'n'shiny", he laughed. Finally, after 30 minutes preparation, Shadow was completely covered, including a hood over his hair with the synthetic material. Only his handsome rugged, perfect face was visible, and that was partially hidden by the mouthpiece. Shadow looked like a monstrous shiny plastic muscle beast. The first man assembled a cart trolley to the back of the platform and after strapping Shadows hands and neck to it with more straps and chains, he nodded to his colleague with satisfaction. A clear container with blue liquid was attached to the upright, and the second man took a pipe from this and attached it to the mouthpiece. The liquid level began to drop slowly. A tiny groan from Shadow was just about audible. After walking around their encased beast a few times, checking the bodysuit was perfectly smooth, the returned to the final task. Working together to tilt the platform back slightly, the weight of Shadow requiring serious effort, and slowly wheeled him away. Only the sound of slight buzzing filled the air. ___________________________ Like it? Ideas for what's next?
  15. Newmassaddict

    Growth Part 9 & 10

    Sorry it's been so long between chapters. I'm blown away by the response. THANK YOU! Here are Part 9 & 10. These chapters set-up some upcoming plot twists. I hope you enjoy. Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE Part 8 HERE 9 Matt didn’t know whether to run or to sit and wait for Clint to come back. His whole body was shaking. He couldn’t believe how huge and powerful that beast was. Eventually Matt was able to get to his feet and he started to wander around the gym admiring the incredible selection of machines and weights. A minute later he heard the locker room door open. He gulped as Clint sauntered towards him. He wore tight shorts. His massive quads swung and slapped against each other as he moved. His insanely developed calves were so outrageously massive they almost touched as he walked; even though his quads forced his legs apart. Clint had put on a tank top that covered his torso like a second skin. His enormous lats expanded at an exaggerated angle from his back and he twisted his thick neck as he walked; causing his traps to rise and flex with each step. His massive pecs cast a shadow over his thick, rock hard abs. His bloated forearms, arms and shoulders looked freakishly strong as the swung back and forth. As Clint reached Matt he smiled and extended his hand. “We never really introduced ourselves.” As Matt felt the strength in Clint’s hand his legs almost gave out again. Clint noticed his reaction and applied a little more power. “Feels good doesn’t? This is barely a fraction of the strength this hand possesses.” “Sorry” Matt said and tried to release his hand but Clint held on. “What’s the matter?” “I just keep acting like a fucking pussy. I can’t control myself and I look like a stupid little bitch.” Matt started stammering. Clint pulled Matt closer and looked him in the eyes. “You do not have to apologize. I see people staring at me all the time but it’s rare to meet someone into mass as much as me. That makes me want to explode.” “But LOOK AT ME! I’m so small. I’ve been working out for years and haven’t gotten anywhere. A guy like you would never even look at me twice.” “So what? I’ve know a lot of bodybuilders that started a lot smaller then you. Besides, I saw your reaction watching me lift; you have something very few people have. You have a desire for muscle and I’d bet you are willing to anything it takes to get it.” “You’re right. I’d do anything to be as big as you.” Clint smiled and patted Matt on the shoulder; almost knocking him over. “Great! From this day forward my only goal is growing you massive.” “REALLY Y? WHY!?” Matt said with wide eyes. “Because I think you have the potential and I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you…” Clint said, grabbed Matt around the waist and lifted him off the floor. He kissed him long and hard. “As good as I imagined. I can’t wait to to that when your are big as me.” Clint said and walked to the front counter and started the paperwork for Matt’s gym membership. They continued to talk and Matt told Clint about the incident at his father’s gym. Clint chuckled. “Those two guys are going to shit their pants the next time they see you. Now lets get something to eat before we hit the weights.” Instantly Matt was comfortable around Clint. They talked for hours that first day. Matt shared his desire to get ridiculously huge and Clint not only approved but encouraged Matt to raise his expectations even higher. Clint told Matt stories about his journey to freakdom. About the reactions people had when he reached 300lbs, about the feeling he got fucking two heavyweight bodybuilders at the same time, about his own desires to hit 400lbs of ripped, hardcore muscle. "The day I walk into the gym that massive is going to be the best day of my life. I'll have the whole place begging to suck my monster cock" he mused as Matt hung on every word. Clint outlined his workout, nutrition and steroid plan for Matt. It was intense but would guarantee impressive results. Matt got hard just thinking about it. "Matt; if you have even the slightest amount of apprehension about this, you have to tell me now." "Clint; the only problem I have right now is not being able to start today. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I met you." It was settled. Clint told Matt to meet him at the gym at 7am the following day. Matts journey was about to begin. 10 I tried to get comfortable in my seat but I was having trouble. I surpassed the 350lb last week. The seat creaked under my incredible bulk. The people around me shot quick glances in my direction. I was loving every minute of it. The stage lights came on and the bodybuilding contestants started to walk on stage. The super heavyweight category had finally started. Tyler was the second to last contestant. As soon as the lights hit his massive body the crowd went wild. The people around me gasped and screamed. Weighing in at a staggering 287lbs; Tyler was without a doubt the largest amateur competitor ever. He had reached 310lbs before dieting for only four weeks. He shed what little fat he had in no time. Even from the fourth row his tanned, vascular body caused my cock to harden. Tyler waddled to his position on stage. He had a smug look on his face as he flexed his body and stood “relaxed”. He completely dwarfed the other competitors. His shear mass and extreme conditioning was staggering. The final bodybuilder was announced and walked on stage. He had been hyped as the one to beat - Jason Lewis. He stood 5’10” and weighed 267lbs. Any confidence he had prior to the competition was erased as he approached Tyler. There was a look of fear in his eyes as he surveyed Tyler’s massive body. Tyler just smiled and flexed a little harder causing his body to inflate even more. The judges called out the comparison poses but it was clear who the winner was. By the end the crowd was only watching Tyler. Each pose he hit caused him to grow larger and larger before the audiences eyes. I went backstage before the individual posing routines. Tyler was alone in the corner of the pumproom. He was curling a 225lb barbell as I approached. “You got this thing all tied up big man” I said. Tyler smiled. “You got that right.” Across the room his “competition” stared intently. “Looks like you have some admirers.” “Hell yeah. All these guys want a piece of me” Tyler said and set the weight down. “I can see why. You look freaky as hell. I’ve been hard since you walked on stage.” Tyler smiled and licked his lips. He stepped closer, placed a hand on my thick bull neck and, pulled me closer and kissed me. He placed his huge arms around my ass and hoisted my 355lb body off the ground. I glanced around the room and saw every set of eyes on us. In the far corner I made eye contact with Jason. His hands were covering his crotch. Tyler set me down. “Looks like we have more than just an admirer.” Tyler walked towards Jason. The poor guy looked embarrassed as hell but was too nervous to move. As Tyler approached, he rolled his traps and bounced his pecs; giving Jason a little show. “You looked good up there on stage man” Tyler said. “Th-thanks” he stuttered. “b-but you you look incredible. You’re so huge…” “Thanks man. It’s too bad I had to diet for this show though; I’d be 320lb by now if I hadn’t.” “320lb!” “At least. Can you imagine what that will look like?” Tyler asked and raised his 23” biceps. He held the pose as Jason started to visibly shake. “Go ahead, feel these massive arms.” Jason didn’t hesitate. He reached up and started to grope the massive man. He squeezed the massive peaks, traced the thick veins with his fingers and felt the deep striations that covered every inch of their surface. “Feels good man. After the show you should come back to our place. Dave and I would have fun showing you what real muscle looks like.” Jason looked over towards my hulking frame and back to Tyler. He swallowed hard. “Good. It will be a fun time.” Tyler said and walked away. The individual posing routines went just as expected; Tyler blew the competition away. Each bodybuilder was allowed a four minute routine but Tyler stayed on stage for close to 10 minutes. After his music stopped you could just hear him grunt between the screams from the crowd. I was leaking pre-cum the whole time. The judges went through the formalities of awarding the different weight class awards until crowning Tyler as the overall champ. I meet him backstage and help gather his things. After a few interviews (and more posing for the cameras” we were ready to leave. I made eye contact with Jason and he practically ran towards us as we walked out. If I could have looked away from Tyler’s incredible performance on stage I might have noticed something else happening in the crowd. Clint and Matt sat just a few rows behind me. Clint was garnering quite a bit of attention for the surrounding audience. His bloated frame was hard to miss. Sitting beside Clint was Matt. He had sat motionless the entire show; his eyes never leaving the stage. When Tyler emerged he gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils. Clint tried to keep the kid calm but it was clear he was ready to explode. “Stay cool Matt. You’ll have your chance soon enough” Clint whispered as he caressed Matt’s mammoth quad. He could feel every tense muscle twitch; threatening to split the seams of his sweat pants.
  16. Cappy50

    The Call -Part III

    Comments on characters, plot, and style are greatly appreciated. Please advise on muscle and sex descriptions --do they work or not? Hope you enjoy. The Call - Part I The Call -Part II The Call –Part III Sun streamed into the clubhouse’s committee room. A glass wall created a visible meeting space, even in closed sessions. Frank sat at the room’s roundtable, his back to the glass. On Frank’s immediate left sat Jerry, and Dwayne on his right. Their one hundred percent American Corvette muscle framed Frank. Next to Jerry sat Lucy, a bubbly woman with curves that warranted slow-down signs, not that she did. Filling the circle was Roz, the committee chairperson. Roz’s preferred expanding grey cells over contracting muscle fiber; The Doc’s formula restored her brain acumen, and Roz never complained about her youthful good looks, restored vigor; and she had never refused a big man. Lenny’s fate at More to Life Living Facility depended on these five people deciding he had met the entrance criteria. The “senior” criterion seemed easy for Lenny to pass, but age didn’t make a senior. Degree of infirmity, amount of aging, and psychological outlook were factors. The average recruited “senior” was sixty-three for men and sixty-seven for women. A vital seventy-two-year-old man had been rejected as not a senior. Another criterion rated Lenny’s adaptability: could he accept the More to Life philosophy? How would Lenny react to a second youth and a body better than in his actual youth? Would he become an egotistical SOB? Or would he embrace a second chance to explore life’s pleasures for himself and others? The committee considered Frank’s commitment to apply his accumulated wisdom to help others, both at More to Life and outside. Altruism as a criterion always caused debate: sainthood wasn’t for everyone and difficult to measure: What constituted help and how often? In the early years, committees had struggled with this criterion until a pattern emerged. Even with super fit bodies and restored good looks, people retained their inherent personality, with exceptions. A jerk early in life remained a jerk. But dramatic events could change an asshole into a nice person and vice-versa. To determine the last criterion, Lenny’s nomination came via Frank –a portrait of Lenny’s inherent personality in high school. Dwayne, the independent investigator, uncovered Lenny’s latter life development with thorough background checks. This meeting reviewed Lenny’s adaptability, data obtained by the ostensibly friendly chitchats, inexplicable plowing of muscle into his face, and a gym power tour. This elaborate staging provided a sense of Lenny’s reactions to morphed bodies with wrinkle-free faces. **** Frank sat upright, fingering Lenny’s dossier folder. Without glancing at his notes, he said: “I know he’s a little odd, but Lenny was a good guy, is a good guy.” Frank looked to Roz. “He’s very smart… and he always helped others, and never hurt anyone. Frank played no role in hazing freshman, a tradition in our fucked-up high school.” Jerry interrupted Frank, turning in his chair like a bull with a hard-on for a matador, the feeling Frank had when Jerry’s hard cock had poked into him during their private meeting the previous Friday to explore Lenny’s personality. Jerry’s aggressive tone startled Frank. “I’m not sure what to make of the fact that Lenny never married. He says he straight, but is he ashamed of being gay? We don’t discriminate. Is Lenny an intolerant gay man? It happens, you know. For his generation –yours-- gays could act like straights.” Before answering, Frank sat back, Jerry’s barrel chest sucked oxygen, they way he had sucked Frank’s penis a few days before. “Well Jerry, he didn’t marry because Lenny was wedded to his job. And you may not have the imagination to understand that working on spacecraft, sending men and women to the moon, is a thrill. Maybe Lenny chose work over a woman. In high school, he studied more than mingled. But everyone liked him. Lenny would do anything for anyone. He confused the bullies because he never complained at their teasing, gave them his lunch money with a smile saying they probably need it more than him. Lenny was never prejudiced against any group. Maybe he’s a hermaphrodite –you’d find a way to enjoy that, wouldn’t you Jerry?” Roz tapped her fingers on the table, mumbling about Frank’s discourteous response. Frank scowled an apology. Roz waited for Frank’s breathing to settle before pointing to Dwayne for a comment. Dwayne, a six-three former detective, and Lenny’s official investigator, said with his deep-water cavern voice, “His former NASA colleagues confirm what Frank said.” Dwayne rested his chin on his fist, his forearm the size of a Roman plinth, his massive head motionless as his lips grappled with his tongue. Dwayne retained his New Jersey detective skills, and used former connections for favors rather than More to Life hackers accessing government computers; he preferred the old-fashion inside approach to illegally acquire private data. Uncovering latent homophobia was Dwayne’s trademark; he’d have known if Lenny hated gays. Dwayne had a particular disdain for closet gays because it reminded him of himself. He had grown up in the eighties, an unkind era, but worse for him as a gay African-American police officer. He still berated himself for being a coward, keeping his homosexuality a secret. Frank’s eyes focused on Dwayne’s twitching pecs poking through his fishnet shirt, the same one he had worn during their Saturday review of Lenny. Frank’s ass had saddled Dwayne’s balcony chest, his legs had dangled behind Dwayne’s ridged deltoids. Frank had commandeered Dwayne’s 747-size latissimi dorsi into an intense horizontal landing. They made notes between ejaculations. Lucy’s two cents came with her hand adjusting her breasts: “He’s cute too, and he’ll be even better once he’s in shape and loses the wrinkles.” Lucy liked gorgeous buff men, not bulkheads that suffocated her. She only required her men be hard in one place; her exact words while rating Frank’s cock for tensile hardness during their Sunday review of Lenny. Dwayne raised his hand like a traffic cop to Lucy. With a scowl, Lucy reacted: “He’s not yours yet, so pack those oversized muscles in a suitcase as you leave, Dwayne.” Dwayne stuck out his tongue, Lucy gave him the finger, and Roz groaned, a sound familiar to Frank. During their Monday discussion about committee procedures, Frank had taken the opportunity to review Lenny’s intelligence as a rocket scientist. Frank had launched past Roz’s clitoris, hearing her familiar moan with each full-blast thrust. The Saturday to Monday private encounters had given Frank confidence in a favorable decision. He had promised all three follow-up private sessions, should the committee give preliminary approval to Lenny. **** Frank cleared the table dishes, Lenny’s half-eaten meal evidence of his old man appetite. “Like it?” Frank held Lenny’s empty frappe glass. Frank spread a photo album on the table. The early pictures were of them in high school. Their youth made them laugh, although Frank didn’t look that much older. Viewing their toothpick legs in gym shorts nearly knocked them to the floor. A few pages later were wedding photos of Frank and Helen. She was beautiful, her wedding dress elegant. Frank asked Lenny why he missed the wedding. Lenny taped the date scrawled under the photo. “It was my first launch. I was so excited, and I’m sorry I never met Helen. What was she like?” Using the back of his hand, Frank rubbed his nose. Lenny apologized for asking. “No, that’s okay. Its just that I didn’t treat her well.” Frank revealed he’d neglected Helen, but had never cheated. “I was worse, I’d become indifferent.” There was no doubt after years Frank was more interested in the bottle than Helen. “I realized what I had lost when she died, and that I’d become an asshole.” The next photo showed him and Helen at the Grand Canyon. Frank looked like a cheese wheel, the top of his shorts hidden by a layered stomach overflowing like melted cheddar. Helen remained gorgeous, but her eyes had become sad. “I’m so sorry, Frank.” “Yeah, me too. It was a trip to celebrate our fifteenth anniversary. Helen died later that year of an embolism.” With Helen gone, Frank had become morose, leading to job loss, and depression. In four years, he had squandered Helen’s insurance policy, and he had stuffed two hundred ninety pounds on his five foot nine inch frame. Lenny thought Frank’s description disingenuous until he saw the next photo. A mummified face stared out topping an atmospheric balloon like those Lenny had sent up at NASA to gather meteorological data. He read the words scrawled under the photo: Mancuso Blimp. “That was taken the day I entered More to Life. Every new member has their photo taken the day they arrive. My doctor had given me a year to live, two max.” Fat Frank seemed to ooze onto the paper, a grease stain showing around the edges of the picture. “Keep this picture in front of you. I want to show you something, and…uh, this may seem …uh, maybe kinky, but believe me it is not, trust me.” The lines creased on Lenny’s forehead as Frank stood to unbutton his shirt. “Stay with me, Lenny. Its fine.” Lenny’s eyebrows reached his hairline watching Frank’s pectorals billow into the room, his areolae giant graffiti. His oversized chest pushed down his nipples so they pointed to his feet. “Jesus, I had no idea. I mean your arms are big but those are… incredible,” said Lenny who inhaled his words “Thanks.” Frank placed his shirt over the chair and turned around. Lenny imagined a V-shaped Yield Sign, Frank bent, his spine ridges visible. His pants flung upward. Lenny gripped the chair’s side arms. “Ready?” Frank walked to the room’s center, rolling on log legs. He wore a tiny bodybuilder’s posing suit. Lenny choked, and reached for his water. “Take it easy, Lenny. Its just a show.” “Frank, what have you done to yourself? Look at those legs…and…. Lenny nodded to Frank’s crotch. “I’m sorry, but that bulge...” Frank shook his right leg, the muscle flopped like a dishrag. As he tensed his leg, dewdrops formed, veins crisscrossed rice paper skin. Frank relaxed his thigh, to lift his left calf that evolved into a small surfboard. Lenny held the water to his lips, taking small sips between intakes of air. With a swift turn, Frank’s back flared. He pulled up the sides of his bikini poser, sinking it into his ass crack. Lenny choked, and Frank turned. Lenny waived okay. Tightening his glutes, vertical striations draped Frank’s ass. Lenny blurted out, “What the hell, that can’t be real?” Laughing as he turned to face Lenny, Frank adjusted his front pouch. “This too is real, but like I said, nothing kinky, so don’t worry I won’t be taking it out…not tonight.” Before Lenny could respond, Frank did a double bicep pose, and knelt in front of Lenny. “Feel them. Go ahead, crush them.” Lenny’s hands rested on each mound, then moved to Frank’s pectorals. Frank pointed to his Mancuso blimp picture. “Lenny, let’s take one of you. The committee has agreed to grant you a trial residency, and I’m sure you’ll be accepted. I meeting with everyone in the next few days.” “So, I was voted in this afternoon?” “Moe a consensus.” Frank’s eyes drifted to the ceiling. “So one meeting and the committee knew enough.” “No. I had separate meetings first to allay individual concerns.” Frank chuckled. “I can be persuasive.” Frank suggested they work on Lenny’s interview, but Lenny thought it a waste of time. There had to be others more deserving then him, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to join. The top of Frank’s lips rose. “I told the committee you always put others before yourself, and you still do.” The subject changed to Lenny’s health, which Lenny waved off. He lowered his head, and he saw Frank’s posers silhouetted with a mushroom headed rocket. Lenny gasped “Sorry, sometimes flexing makes me hard. And, it is bigger and harder than ever.” With flushed cheeks, Lenny circled his water glass on the table. “Don’t be embarrassed. More to Life means restored youth and strength, and more chance to live a complete life. To find new pleasures from a better body.” Frank paused. Lenny’s eyelids had closed. “You know, I had limited sexual experience before I married and after thirty-five sex ended for me. I’m not gay but—Frank’s hand swung around his upper torso— this has made me experiment. I want men to explore me… and women. I am constantly amazed at what I can do with such strength.” Frank’s face split by a wide grin. “You can’t imagine what it feels like to have the strength, the stamina, and the physique of Hercules. You’ll see.” From his vantage, all Lenny saw was Frank’s massive hard on. “I feel myself up. Do you know I masturbate twice a day, three if there’s time?” Frank’s pouch had lowered. Lenny blinked rapidly several times. “Sorry, too much, right?” Lenny nodded. “Why not explore alternative pleasures? Don’t rule it out.” A big, full-on tooth grin seeped across Franks’ face. With a short pause, Lenny wanted to known if there was anything besides sex and flexing muscles at More to Life. The response was ambiguous: plenty of intellectual activity but enough sinew to feed a pride of lions. “How can you really ignore this?” Frank’s bicep rocketed upward. Lenny’s glass stopped moving. He reached for Frank’s arm and said, “I don’t know what’s come over me. All day I’ve felt an increasing urge to massage your muscles. I’ve never felt like this and I haven’t even had the special meds.” Frank’s eye movement was nearly imperceptible. “What? You didn’t? Medication can’t act that fast.” “It doesn’t, not normally. Maybe because you had a double dose.” “What?” “A mistake. I gave you a pill in the morning. Todd phoned to say he fortified you too, not knowing about me. The frappe’s are enhancers, but pills are full doses—remember Todd and the Kidd? Todd and I worried about your quadruple bypass and —“ “Wait. How do you know about my bypass? What’s going on, Frank?” With the heel of his hand, Frank banged his forehead and groaned, Frank’s head rested on the table. “I’ve screwed this up. You were my first choice, too. Shit, I am so stupid.” Lenny stood to massage Frank’s shoulders, and felt he was kneading golf balls. “Don’t worry, please. You did what you thought right. And you’ve honored me with the invitation.” Hearing a grunt, Frank raised his head to see Lenny flexing. “I haven’t felt like this in years. Feel this.” Lenny moved his arm to Frank. Although he strained, there was no bulge in Lenny’s arm, just his same old loose-change bicep. “Oh, Lenny, you’re such a muscle hunk,” said Frank with a whispering laugh. The two men were still laughing as Frank’s poser stretched, his penis outline again visible. Lenny moved back and stopped laughing. “Frank stood and hugged Lenny. “Hey, this happens.” Wiping his lips, Lenny explained his last sex with a woman had been in his thirties, after that he had remained faithful to himself. Frank grinned like he’d eaten cheesecake, and Lenny remembered Frank did it three times daily. “Frank, its different for me. I have no desire for sex. I don’t need it, so I doubt I’d be of interest to anyone here.” Tapping Lenny’s head with his two fingers, then he pulled Lenny’s hand to his bulging posing suit. “Don’t be so sure, Lenny, we still have tomorrow.” **** The Call -Part I
  17. GymWolf

    Cum to the Gym

    Cum to the Gym by Kezzz and Virgil. Virgil sat at the Chest Press working hard for Carl - he noticed a twinge in the satin trainer shorts - the crotch at eye level. Thrusting his arms forward, he almost hit Carl in the hip and he inched forward and seeing Carl's groin is growing in size. First it grew to 3", to 4" to 6". Without thinking, Virgil opened his mouth presses against Carl's thigh, tongue working its way up into his groin to find a loose foreskin. Breathing in, his wraps his lips around the head of Carl's penis and gobbles. With Virgil's skilful mouth, peeling back the velvet foreskin on Carl's penis, the crown leaked a pearl of precum - the nectar of lust. Virgil, slowly letting the corona gliding passed the lips and brushing across the bottom teeth along the underside of Carl's knob. The feeling was intense and thrilling, it's amazing how Carl can remain calm yet driven with the lust. It's as if everybody in the gym are insignificantly far and distant. Both Virgil and Carl could care less of what others are seeing, they both are in their world - their realm - when Carl's cock made contact with Virgil's mouth, everything else were second to their lust. With their sexual drive rapidly ramping up to full lust, they have forgotten that they're still holding on to weight, and their bodies just naturally and smoothly pushing the weights without having their minds on the task. Their bodies were pumping harder, making more testosterone in both their balls, supplying them with sexual lust. Carl's balls grew from lemon size, to orange, the jock was pushed to its limit and soon a gap was showing. Virgil slipped one of his hand under the satin pant and grabbed the pumping balls and gave it a nice caress. Outside Karl looks in - small in stature, but hung. He looks through the window at two men being one - with each other and the weight machines. his mouth went dry, for a second, then raising spit from his throat, and onto his hand. He slips the hand under the elastic of his track pants, and grips what was a flaccid appendage, but is now a rod of iron, and plays. He looks through the window, eyes fixed on Carl's peachy butt, now exposed as Virgil slips his satin shorts over his brick like thighs. Karl's index finger finds moisture coming from the eye of the helmet, for a second, he moves his hand to his tongue and tastes the forbidden liqueur, before returning to the shaft. Steam now appears on the glass window, from Karl's heaving breath. Out from the corner of Virgil's right eye, he saw Karl through the steamed glass. Virgil made eye contact with good firm stare. Carl knew what's going without turning his head to direction where their admirer is looking from. Slowly and sexily, Carl removes his tank top revealing his tight but firm waist, tapered to a wide V-lats. Carl's horse shoe triceps contract as his left arm slip out from the arm hole, and his left pec was exposed. His nipple popped out from the slab of thick prime-filet like chest, defying gravity with a nub that is big enough to be pinkie. Karl connects with Virgil's eye. Knowing he skinny - even scrawny - he glanced away again. By now, Karl's aching butt cheeks were clinched as his hips thrust forward and back pushing his piston through the cylinder of his hand. Precum and spit lubricating what appeared to be a V8 engine inside a Mini. Karl then glanced again at the marblesque gods forming the heaving duo inside. By now both the adonis have laid down the weights and Virgil, with his eyes still affixed at Karl's direction, slowly standing up with his tongue gliding along Carl's thigh, then the abs and up to the demanding nipple on Carl's left steak pec. Carl, with his eyes closed and enjoying the royal treatment. Carl always love a good sucking on his nipples. Through the grill of his gritty teeth, he moaned silently. Instinctively, he lifts his guns and pose a double biceps pose while half of his body still trapped by his tank top. The body is testing the tank top which has already tightly stretch across his chest and back like a strap. Karl moves inside - hand in pants with evidence of activity bleeding onto the crotch. As his horny trance crossed the threshold, the pants drops and he steps out of them. The underwear clad lad, stalks across the gym towards Carl and Virgil and without any grace, removes his hands from his tool, slips the underwear off, his T-shirt off in a sex filled frenzy. His 9-inch tool is left bouncing and dripping with precum and his skeletal appearance becomes insignificant. Heads turn as Karl's bobbing cock launches like a missile in the direction of Carl's peachy cheeks. One boney hand grabs Carl's hip, the other on his lad, and spitting straight at the crevice between the cheeks, to provide moisture for the torpedo to fire into the caverns of Carl's loins. Carl, knowing the queue, dropped his biceps pose and moved his hands toward his cheeks and spread them apart to give Karl's cock a sight to aim for. Carl, kept his rear tidy, smooth and muscular but gentle and ready. Virgil sensed Carl's right nipple is ripened and hardened, decided to tear his tank top off to reveal his other slab of chest and ultimately to gain access to the nipple for next suckling. The tearing sound was loud, many heads turned towards the trio. Karl felt the eyes stabbing from all directions but it's too late for him to hide away as Carl has clamped on his harden rod like strong vice. At this point, everyone in the gym - guys mainly - stopped what they're doing, and the sight is slowing causing uneasiness in their groins. Luckily, the gym owner - Jack - has no problem what so ever with the scene, in fact, in his younger years, he had a few of this experiences as well. Now in his 50s, he's still have a great body. Built like a brick house, wide shoulders and easily be mistaken for a line-backer in full armour from the back in distant. Jack, is getting very aroused and decided to head to the main door and turned the sign to 'close' and locked up to make sure no one else can interrupt the scene. The rest of the guys in the gym - just a handful, ranging from slim athletes to power lifters are attracted to the hot action corner. There's a distinct lustful aroma filling the gym, and everyone are feeling the horny drive and the sexual heatwaves. As Jack turned away from the front door, he slowly peeling off his polo shirt, and revealing his furry grey daddy muscle chest, and making his way toward the trio. Karl is now thrusting his piston in and out of Carl's hole. The rhythm is getting faster and faster and a bead of sweat comes of his forehead and heads down his wee body towards the canyon of lust. Moaning and pumping, just as then two older hands grip Karl's slender waist. Karl, surprised by the strong firm hands that have been lifting heavy weights for years. Just by the touch, he could tell those thick fingers have more strength in them than his muscles on his arm can lift. Yet Jack is gentle enough to caress the slender waist and slowly brushing up the side under Karl's armpits. Standing tall at 6'3", Jack has to lean forward to nuzzle on the back of Karl's neck which sent him a shiver up his spine. Jack whispered into Karl's ear, just audible enough for both Virgil and Carl to hear, "Quite a powerful tool for someone nothing more than a bag of bones. You sure you can push that rod of yours into that firm ass?" Jack then reaffirming his seniority by pushing his rising groin at the small of Karl's back. Karl felt the heat from Jack body, and definitely felt his superior presence rubbing his back. Karl isn't sure whether he should back off from Carl, or firmly pushing deeper, either case, his cock is hard enough that Carl is enjoying its length through his ass lip. Jack moved his rough palms forward to feel young Karl's smooth chest and strategically played with his nipples. Slight gasp escaped Karl's mouth. Jack knew then Karl has a thing for older guys, and he knew he has Karl under his spell now. The temperature is rising - and the boys in the gym were breaking out sweats of joy and energy. Launching at each other firstly with lips search for lips and tongues starting to explore for tongues. Hands gripping clothing and the sound of ripping fabric could be heard above the pump of the music. Boy on boy - man on man and juices were flowing from a threesome, now a foursome to a group of groaning, groping and moist guys. Meanwhile Virgil has finished tasting the second nipple, and Carl is enjoying the sawing of Karl's cock deep inside of him. Virgil is working his magic on Carl's member which is leaking precum like there's no tomorrow. A puddle has gathered at the bench, clear nectar dripping like a long string from the piss slit continuously without break. Virgil sat on the bench and lean forward with his mouth opened, and receives the leaking precum and swirling his tongue on the underside of the crown. This is driving Carl with madness that he's stuck between two places. Carl's instinct for more mouth over his cock took over, he grabbed Virgil's head and starting to fuck his face slowly. The slight movement forward, with his muscular ass gripping tightly on Karl's cock, Karl was launched forward making him off balanced. Jack was able to catch Karl in his palms and lifted him off the floor slightly as he stood to full height. Slowly he's aligning his member to give Karl a pre-warning of the impending visit from his python. Jack, shifted Karl to one arm, while ensuring Karl's cock is still deep inside of Carl's muscled ass without interruption. He freed his pants with his free hand and peeling it off like a thin paper off his lower body. As expected, Jack was on commando - in fact, it will be blue moon to see Jack's member being confined in jockstrap, let alone a brief or underwear. Simply there isn't anything that can contain his well endowed asset. Jack has always been very proud of his tools, he never like the ideal to compete in bodybuilding competition. Those skimpy "bikini" just can't contain even his balls, let alone his shaft when they're soft. Jack once again lean forward to Karl's right ear and whispered, "you better be liking this boy, daddy's going to deliver a truck full of load, and it's going to go somewhere - whether you'll like it or not." Karl is fearing for his life but strangely enough, he found himself more aroused with the husky commanding voice from his back. Karl has never been fucked before, he has always been the one pushing the rod and today he's going get his cherry popped. Karl never wanted to admit his desire for an older man to take control of him. He never had a father figure in his life, or at least one that can be assertive enough to dominate him. Billy - Jacks vey first client - by this stage naked, apart from his training shoes, has gained pride of place standing over the foursome on the steps. He is furiously masturbating, oblivious to everything around him. Eyes closed, drip coming over his nipples mingling with the fores on his chiselled chest. His trimmed pubes reveal a thick vein running up his girthy cock, and his hand clenched tight and running up and down, the cock turgid with blood flow and the eye beginning to open. With a groan, followed by a shout of "I'm cumming, a steady cream stream of fluid shoots out over the writhing bodies below." Shot one - splashes on Karl and shot two hits Karl in the face, a tongue sweeping the drip off his nose and into his mouth, the third shot flies across the trio and then in a spasm, the last drops fall to the floor as Billy convulses and groans - not in pain, but shear pleasure. Jack, with years of experiences with young boys (or men even). He knew no one can resist his charm and certainly what he kept between his legs. Whenever his pants dropped, there will be guys fallen to his feet, fighting to service him. Jack would laugh about how many times he had to keep giving it, and still doesn't seem to drain his bull balls flat. In fact, his balls seem to churn out more load as the lust getting heavier - he's not complaining, he loves sex, especially to the virgin hole that he can pop the cherry off! John John, tall and broad, with the "w" of pecs stretch east to west across his chest, punctuated by deep brown nipples, stepped forward to be the next to take aim at the trio. John John had thighs that could crush watermelons and calves that whistled while walked. His shorts were still on, but his penis had popped through the fly and was throbbed and precum pumping every so slowly as it waved about freely as, John John walked across the gym. Gyrating his hips, no hands at all, this fountain of youth started pumping all by itself. John John's tower spurting cum like a sprinkler on the 9th hole, watered the floor with a creamy syrup. Pumping again and again, he just kept going - never ending cream, never ending groans, with the boys rushing to catch drips from the air. After Billy's loads shot across Karl, Jack barked out in laughter and taking control of the group demanding the boys around him, all pumping their hard purple cocks. Jack cheering John John to put more effort over his cock as he wants to see his plaything - Karl - getting drench with all the protein. Virgil is also feeling the pressure from Carl's cock in his mouth, he knew it won't be too long before Carl's orange size balls are ready to blow. With his own hands, Virgil is stroking the length of his cock rigorously and breathing in only enough through his nose while his mouth is occupied in full by Carl's cock. Carl's breathing hard, he's panting and clamping even tighter on Karl's cock. Jack, from far back is loving the view as he watches the action from the reflection on the mirror. Laughing out, seeing all the boys are on the verge of cumming. His most delight prize, the one "standing" in front of him in his arm, is getting drench with cum from both sides and flowing down his crack. Jack is using the cum as his lube and slowly driving his girthy cock, blunt head into super tight hole. Despite Karl's anticipation for something big, he has not expected the size Jack has and he yelped helplessly as Jack firmly holding him like a baby. There's no escape, Jack slowly but surely pushing his head in and past the pincher. Jack laughed as Karl frightened by the intruder, then Karl spasms. He has erupted his load into Carl just by having Jack's daddy cock head piercing through. Jack now holding Karl in both arms and calming him down like baby while pushing and grinding his shaft into the tight hole that has never been stretched. Jack knew it will be difficult for Karl - heck anyone would have difficult trying to let a 7" round girth sliding in, and that's just at the crown, the rest of the shaft expand to a good thick 9" girth at the base, at 10" length. Just holding Karl isn't giving him much leverage, so Jack stretch his arms to hold Carl's lats to pull them both closer to his body. Carl moaned as more of Karl now semi hard entered him. Virgil not wanting to lose the cock in his mouth, he planted forward into Carl's groin which pressing on to his big balls. Just like that, Carl shot his load, and without any resistance, he shot good 5 heavy loads straight into Virgil's throat. Virgil isn't wasting any of those high protein, as he swallows, his throat muscles is draining every bit from Carl's cock head, massaging it with each gulp. Jack surveyed the surrounding, all the boys are either exhausted from their loads or close to blow their loads and yet he hasn't even started his jackhammer pilling action with Karl yet. He knew it is going to take some effort when he's super horny, his balls demand good driving in a tight hole before they're satisfied to open the flood gate to mark his presence. With just 3 inches inside of poor Karl stretched hole, he picked up a couple of plates of 10KGs in each hand to do some curling just to make the fun more interesting. Jack is proud of his staying power; he knows he maybe old but he has a sexual drive of an 18 years old. With the weights in his hands. He holds them onto Carl's body and started thrusting forward and lifting both the young’uns in front of him a little bit. Virgil is finally fed with Carl's load fallen back and admire the view of two men, chained fucked by Jack. Nothing seem to stop Jack and his power, Virgil cannot believe his eyes that someone in his 50s have such power, it is like a tank ramming at anything it can. Everyone else in the gym are now surrounding Jack and chanting him on, they all want to see what Jack can do with these two men. Jack dropped the weight plates as he wants to have better grip on his boy-toys. He shifted his stance, and lifted both Carl and Karl and all balanced by his oak sized thighs. Carl isn’t exactly light, at 85kgs and Karl at best 60KGs, that's a decent amount of weight to hold up. With the boys at such angle that Jack can push his cock deeper into Karl, the cum from earlier fountain shots helped lube up a smooth penetration. 6" in, 7" in, soon it's all 10" planted deep into Karl, Everyone were amazed that Karl took it all, especially at a base of 9" girth, it seems impossible for anyone to sustain that stretch, it is like getting fisted! Karl is borderline fainting but his body still functioned by ecstasy. Jack now is ready to pile-drive his cock and his balls are definitely growing with loads ready for good blow out. Jack knew he can keep this going but he doesn't want the boys to wait any longer, a few rough powerful pounding which see his cock taken out 6" at most, before pushing back into tight hole. Few more rounds and he's ready. He could sense his balls have a load that will drench the area until kingdom cum. The elder statesman of the gym is now taking control of virgin man pussy as his experience finds the freckle of ecstasy Karl lets out a shout "pump me" he screams and Jack mounts the boys’ hips and pushes him further into Carl. Creating a slippery mess on the mats in the gym was Jack's crescendo in the event. Any unspent cock was ordered to "Water The Garden" as the flows lay there with mouths open and slipping around in the cum splatted floor. The danger now was the participants would start to lose hardness and Jack did his old favourite trick of tickling the boys up - finger first.
  18. Cappy50

    The Call -Part II

    The Call -Part I: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6130-the-call-part-i/ The Call –Part II Strolling the golf course’s edge, Frank held Lenny’s elbow as he told him about the invitation to join More to Life. Lenny was surprised, even with Frank’s cold call and invitation to visit overnight. “How can there be an opening with everyone so healthy and strong.” “We’re not immortal. No vampires here, Lenny. We die. The most recent was a woman volunteering at an Ebola clinic in Africa. We have accidents, cancers, although rare, and everything else. Heart attacks remain the popular way to go. Men average ninety-two years and women ninety-eight. Our oldest resident is Ruth at one hundred and five and looks not a day over sixty. There are thirty centenarians among our six hundred residents. Plans to double the facility in five years has everyone worried; a drastic change to the recruitment process.” Lenny stopped walking. “And why me?” Frank faced Lenny. “Because besides my wife, no one was ever as good to me as you.” Lenny blinked. **** A sign identified the modern, tinted glass building with a triangular entrance as the More to Life Holistic Center –a gym. Lenny stopped, unsure he wanted to go further down the rabbit hole. Frank nudged Lenny. A man behind the glistening marble front desk waved Frank to a side office. The room’s glass wall faced the weight training area. Frank moved Lenny to the window, giving him a full view of the half-acre. Mirrors covered the four walls. Half-mirrored structures subdivided the main floor into parcels: aerobic area, belted machines, and free-weights, which had the largest footprint. Buff men and women navigated the muscle launch pads. Men swayed with the weights they hauled, the women’s thighs were shopping bags filled with stones. Lenny’s jaw ached from gapping —and the thought of May’s kiss. A noise from behind startled Lenny; seeing the mammoth in the room shocked him. ‘Lenny, meet Todd Gimble, the biggest and strongest among us. Todd, this is my friend Lenny.” A USDA stuffed canvas at six two and two hundred and fifty pounds direct from Costco stuck out a hand. Lenny looked at his own hand, then Todd’s shovel. Todd laughed, and fist bumped Lenny’s shoulder, sending a thousand volts down his arm. “Sorry, man, I keep forgetting my strength,” said Todd producing a double bicep flex that blurred Lenny’s vision. Two humps rose above Todd’s ears. Honeycomb shoulders acted as slopes to the high peaked biceps. “Go ahead Lenny, give them a feel. That’s what we do here.” Todd’s head turned to each bicep, as if he didn’t know how they appeared. Frank moved next to Lenny. “I know, the flexing and touching seems strange, but big men like Todd thrive on confirmation.” Stepping in front of Lenny, Frank placed one hand over the upper portion of Todd’s right arm while pointing to Todd’s left. Lenny’s hand landed on molecule thin skin splayed over veins layered on a bicep so big it needed a room of its own. Lenny’s fingers crisscrossed the Interstate of veins, with blood pulsing at sixty-miles per hour porting oxygen up the muscle mountain. “Twenty-two inches, Lenny. You should have seen me when I retired. A fucking plump, overripe tomato.” Todd puffed out his checks, and then burst into laughter. “That’s BS.” Frank shook his head and chuckled. “Todd looks this way because he arrived big. He played college ball and the NFL drafted him his junior year. A blown out knee is the only reason you don’t own a team jerseys with Todd’s name.” The rest of the story was predictable: drink, depression, and inactivity. At forty-five Todd had layers of fat, but never a squish tomato. Lifting his shorts, Todd’s pillar legs dwarfed his upper body. His veins compared to the Floridian canals, like those Lenny had once spent paddling before he’d become ill. Todd tensed his right leg causing a muscle eruption, the kind meant to crack tundra. Frank knelt, motioning Lenny to follow. There was enough landscape for both their hands; or to lie down and take naps. Lenny explored the outer thigh, his hand scraped along the angry central dewdrop muscle that pushed the other sinew outward. He could hear Todd, but had no sight of his head. Todd shouted Latin names as Lenny’s hand moved along the leg’s surface. Using Todd’s leg as a handrail, Lenny steadied himself to stand. Without warning, Todd took hold of Lenny under his armpits to jettison him into the air and catch him on his way down. **** Todd called out names and ages as part of Lenny’s tour of the holistic facility. Lenny thought it a joke. He saw no correspondence with the faces and bodies to the ages. Everyone wished Lenny well; a few flexed. They stopped in front of a woman identified as Shareen, sixty-nine, but appeared to be in her late-thirties. She was squatting with two hundred pounds on her shoulders. Todd’s steadied her last rep with a hand on her back. “Hey, Shareen,” Todd said with a trill, “Shall we show Lenny our squat variation?” Shareen giggled, her legs spread, stretching Lycra pants to emphasize her grapefruit rear-end. Todd placed the barbell behind her neck then knelt in front. Shareen mounted his shoulders. Once secured, Todd duck-waddled to grab another two hundred pound barbell. Shareen lifted her legs, allowing Todd to rest the barbell on his chest’s upper shelf. Todd squatted for ten repetitious. On dismount, Shareen repeated her signature giggle, and rubbed Todd’s shoulders. “See you later, Toddie?” Touching two fingers to her lips, she rubbed them across Todd’s cheek. Lenny thought Todd in his mid-thirties, but asked anyway. Todd inflated his biblical chest to sing out his coming seventieth birthday. Lenny blinked, seeing muscles draped on a young man, and a liar. The parade resumed. Lenny observed flexing; women’s bosoms pushed workout bras beyond manufacturer’s limits. Bare-chested men ignored sweat channeling down muscular ridges as they bounced their pecs. Todd opened an inlaid door that blended into the wall. The inner room was thirty feet on a side. Mirrors ran from floor-to-ceiling. The dumbbells ranged from five pounds to two hundred, and preloaded barbells went higher than Lenny thought practical. Jamal stood in the middle of the room, alone. Lenny thought Jamal the youngest of anyone so far and he was correct on two scores: Jamal’s body and face fit a twenty-year-old, and his real age at fifty-two made him the current youngest resident. His body resembled a pro bodybuilder. Jamal curled a barbell hijacked from a semi-trailer axle. Lenny tried not to focus on Jamal’s small posing suit; a suit so tight the imprint of his genitals was visible. The barbell clanged on release. Jamal adjusted his poser, shifting his penis to a new position. He greeted Todd with a punch to his shoulder. Todd feigned injury. Jamal bellowed like Tarzan while pounding his chest. As if required, Jamal started a posing routine that lasted two minutes. Muscles popped, cinema style. Lenny felt dizzy, suffocated by the reflecting muscle in the mirrors. Turning one-eighty degrees, Jamal’s back flared supertanker wide. His flared muscles busted the sound barrier. “What do you think, Todd? Am I getting there?” Frank nudged Lenny, leaving Todd alone with Jamal. Outside the room, Frank explained that Todd trained Jamal for the upcoming More to Life’s bodybuilding competition. Members were not permitted to enter outside events, so they started their own. But members were encouraged to attend contests and record them. The More to Life technical crew projected the videos onto large screens: life size and 3-D. “Don’t’ ask me how they do it?” said Frank in monotone. Frank continued his explanation. More to Life members posed next to the on-screen contestants. The judges compared members with the video contestants. So far a More to Life member won every time. Frank swore it wasn’t rigged. The members really were bigger, better proportioned, and more ripped. Lowering his voice, Frank told Lenny that Todd’s interest went further than training bodybuilders. Frank put a finger to his lips, seeing Todd come out of the posing room. Todd laughed, throwing his arm around Lenny’s neck, the gravity strength pulled Lenny‘s head to the nadir of Todd’s nipples. “Don’t worry, Lenny, I expected Frank would tell you my secret.” Todd laughed and grabbed his crotch. Frank shook his head hard. “Fine, I’ll stop. Now, go on, tell our story.” This was their story because Frank had played a roll. One day, off campus, they had purchase guest passes at a local gym. They often did this, getting a kick teasing townies by tossing around vast amounts of weights. During this visit, Todd saw a young man, late teens or early twenties, with terrible training form --wasted effort. Todd removed his shirt and started to pose near Kidd —Todd’s nickname for the man. Todd waited until Kidd noticed, which didn’t take long. In no time the two spotted each other. Todd kept his poundage lower than Kidd’s, not wanting to embarrass him. Kidd became overconfident, and challenged Todd to an arm-wrestling contest. Frank officiated and half the club observed. Todd pretended to struggle, but his rising three-scoop bicep gave the game away before it finished. As consolation, Todd whispered to Kidd while holding him in a bear hug that he’d take him to dinner as consolation. Frank stopped talking, tilting his head to Todd. “I’ll finish. So, Lenny, I hope this doesn’t embarrass you, but I have an attraction to young male muscle, if you get my drift. I have since college.” Lenny’s lips pursed, whispering Shareen’s name to Frank, but Todd heard and laughed. “Shareen, the squat lady?” Todd laughed again. “We’re just friends. Sometimes we hook up. A few other women too, but they’re not my first choice. I’m just doing my duty to share the muscle.” Frank waived at Todd. “Too much bragging? Okay, so to continue, Kidd and I had fun at his place and still do. He was buff then but you should see him now.” Todd flexed his arm while he hovered his hand over his bicep, indicating a growing mound. “Before I left Kidd that night I had emptied several packets of our special brew into the his protein shake. Two days later Kidd called to report a jump in weight and size. He thought it a result of my training advice.” Frank broke in. “The formula has a bigger impact the younger the person, but no one here is under forty-five, so how much on early twenties or younger is unknown. Jamal’s the nearest test case. The biochemists don’t want to try any younger.” Todd shook his ahead. “I would be severely reprimanded if anyone found out. But only Frank knows. Oops, I guess you do too. I broke the rule only once, I promise. So what?” Frank rubbed one index finger over another. “Come on Frank, you always follow the rules?” Frank put his right hand on his heart, raising the palm of his left hand upright. “Yeah, right. Anyway, Kidd has worked hard. I’ve been to contests with him and he’ll get a pro card in a few years, before he’s thirty. He took first place at the Junior Mister Florida at twenty-four.” Before Todd started on another story, Frank interrupted to say he had a meeting and he would meet Lenny at the clubhouse. Todd smiled. “Don’t worry, Frank, I’ll get him there, even if I have to carry him.” Lenny grimaced. “I’m kidding.” The tour continued to another room behind the big glass wall. Several men and woman were posing. Lenny eyes widened at what he thought a muscle truck stop; anywhere he looked he saw bulging sacks unloading. Todd moved Lenny to another door, but it was locked. "Occupied." Todd smiled with cheekbones pushing his flared nose. “This room is like the last but has a table, a couch, a few chairs, a trampoline, and two swings hung from the ceiling. It’s men only and that…” Todd pointed to an adjacent room, “that’s women only. Across the floor is an identical coed room. That’s were I’ll meet Shareen.” Todd gyrated two hands under his massive breasts and twirled his nipples. Lenny shrugged, so Todd continued. “These are different kind of posing rooms. When the doors locked, its a private session.” Todd winked. There was no change in Lenny’s facial expression. “Let me spell it out. In the last room people posed in contest suits. In here they don their birthday suits. And muscle exploration isn’t only with hands.” … “Do you understand, Lenny?” … “I’ll assume you do. I’ve told you this so you know everything about More to Life for your decision. There are no restrictions or judgments on people’s behavior. There’s more to life, get it?” Lenny throat seeped air. “Is it obligatory?” “Hell, no. Not every member goes in for this, but you’d be surprised how many do. Most people start off saying its not for them, until they gain massive amounts of muscle. They become curious about what big muscle can do besides pump iron.” This ended Lenny’s tour and he needed a break. Todd slugged his frappe in a gulp, and then waited as Lenny stared into his pink frappe. Lenny wanted to skip the meeting. He would have preferred to return to Frank’s house. He didn’t tell Todd he knew this wasn’t for him, and he didn’t need to see anymore. He shivered at the thought of being groped. He didn’t like people’s touching him. Lenny closed his eyes, an attempt to eradicate the tour’s muscle saturated images, and especially Jamal’s penis-imprinted posing suit. Todd’s finger with the force of a ball-peen hammer tapped Lenny’s shoulder. “We better go, or we’ll be late” A chill seeped down Lenny’s spine. He felt like a small child walking next to Todd. As two big buff young bodies stopped to talk, Lenny thought this constituted a crowd. Lenny’s mass had no impact on the sidewalk acreage. He folded his arms upon entering the clubhouse. He had made his decision. ****
  19. MightyMike81

    The Ad Man

    My contribution to the forum however I never wrote it. It was something I found on my computer. Some FanTCMan/FanTCDude wrote it. Let's just say I never make it to the end of the story Hope you guys enjoy! Mr. Tucker Forrest had every reason to think that he was as powerful as his position. His company had remained small by ad industry standards, but by specializing in sports related accounts, and landing several of the largest, T. Forrest Inc. had become a significant player. His select staff were all sports devotees of one kind or another, and knew better than most just how to service their accounts. One area that Tucker had not yet locked up was sports nutrition and supplements, but he thought he was about to nail that one, too, with the help of one of his top account execs, Larry Littleman. Tucker had hired Larry based on the fact that he was a personal fitness trainer with serious qualifications in physical therapy, nutritional therapy and non-traditional supplements. Larry also had the outgoing personality and the looks to be successful as an AE. Tucker had, in fact, secured Larry's services not only as an AE, but also as his own personal trainer. Tucker was strikingly handsome and well built and he had every intention of maximizing those attributes professionally. After several months, Tucker discovered that Larry was not just into maintaining a fit, toned, cut physique. Larry was really more into bodybuilding. Eventually he told Tucker he didn't care at all about competing as a professional bodybuilder, but he did have a personal goal of building himself up to where he could. Tucker wasn't about to let himself be pushed in that direction, and he wasn't sure how that kind of body would be received on one of his AEs. When Tucker hired Larry, even before he saw him in workout clothes, he could tell he was built, but having a great looking staff of athletes was what he wanted. Larry was one of those guys who would drive women crazy. He had the face of a daytime soap opera star and a head of thick, dark blond hair to go with the face. Even in business clothes, he had the posture of a man proud of his body. His loose fitting slacks showed a great butt, and his dress shirts showed a pair of nicely developed pecs and arms that pretty much filled his sleeves. When, in their talks about workout goals, Forrest realized that Larry was serious about building himself up to the proportions of a bodybuilder, he felt he needed to say something. He thought that Larry's credibility as an AE might be compromised if people thought he was becoming some kind of freak. But Larry said, very respectfully, that he felt that how he developed himself was his business, and that it shouldn't get in the way of his effectiveness. In fact, he told Tucker, he was working on landing an account that could become huge. Tucker was intrigued. Larry told him that some new bodybuilding supplement had been developed, and the inventors were looking for test subjects and an agency to represent their product. T. Forrest was a natural, and they had sought out Larry to get to Tucker. Larry told Tucker that they needed to complete just a couple more tests, and they'd be ready to go to market. He also told him that he, himself, was to be a test subject. Tucker immediately thought about having his own in-house testimonial, if this supplement worked. Larry told him he was scheduled to meet with them that night and would report back the next day. These guys were anxious to get moving and get rich. The next day Larry called in to say he couldn't come in that morning. He told Tucker that he'd taken their stuff the night before, and it did work. In fact it worked so fast and so well, he had to get some new clothes to wear. He said that the prospective clients had asked to meet with him, Tucker, at lunch to discuss plans for a media launch of the product. Larry said he'd meet him there, and named one of the top restaurants in town. Larry thought about it all morning. Would he be able to see a difference on Larry? He knew, if it worked, the market for this kind of thing could be vast. When he walked into the restaurant, escorted to the table by the maitre d', his mouth dropped open. Facing him was Larry, flanked by two men he assumed to be the clients by their extraordinary physiques, obvious even in business suits. Larry was grinning with pride as he stood to greet Tucker, the source of his pride clearly manifested. Tucker openly stared at Larry. So did almost everyone else in the restaurant. He was not wearing a jacket; just dress slacks, shirt and tie. He was huge. His arms more than filled the sleeves and strained the material of the extra large shirt. His back was so wide Tucker could see from the front how his lats flared thickly, pulling the fabric tight, causing it to cling to the huge pectoral muscles that sat broad and massive on his chest. Larry apologized for not wearing a jacket, saying that when he tried to get into his this morning, he couldn't get his arms into the sleeves. But, he said to Tucker, who cares when it's obvious that the product works. He acted overjoyed, showing Tucker how dramatically it had worked on him since about five thirty the night before, flexing one of his huge arms so that the shirt looked about to split open from the strain. And, he told his boss, it's still working. It takes twenty four hours to do its complete job. And it feels absolutely wonderful. Tucker's emotions bounced around as he sat discussing ideas for a campaign, convinced by what he saw that the potential for the product was huge, but not convinced that a physique like Larry's, or even these clients', would go over with the average guy. In fact, he felt a little embarrassed by Larry's size and his uninhibited display. Larry, meanwhile, maintained an infectious level of enthusiasm about the results he was experiencing and how he felt. He said he could almost feel his clothes getting tighter. As Tucker listened, he couldn't help but imagine what that must feel like, to have such massive muscles that they could be too big to be contained by a shirt, even an extra large tent of a shirt like Larry was wearing. They all laughed about various scenarios of guys using the product and growing huge in different situations, like at the beach or during an airplane flight. Or sitting in a fancy restaurant at lunch. Imagine some guy in his business suit suddenly getting too big for his britches. Tucker laughed, but his imagination was working too effectively all of a sudden. He could imagine how strange that would feel, the trousers becoming tight on the legs, tight in the crotch. Or the jacket sleeves feeling too tight when bending the arms to lift a bite of food or a glass. His imagination was producing such vivid pictures that he could actually feel what that would be like. He could imagine his reactions, a combination of panic and exhilaration. Suddenly the restaurant felt stuffy and hot. Just thinking about that made him feel jittery. His skin was itching. Just a little, when he first noticed it, then growing stronger, like he had hives creeping up his arms and legs, then all over his groin, then spreading from his groin all up his stomach and chest. He couldn't let himself sit there and scratch or sweat in front of these new clients, and he felt embarrassed that his reaction to thinking about what this product could do was so strong. He excused himself and went to the bathroom. When Tucker got into the bathroom, the mirrors gave him evidence that those sensations of his clothes feeling tighter were not just his imagination. As soon as he was inside the door, he frantically scratched the raging itching of his chest and stomach, and he thought, strangely, that his pecs felt bigger to him. He looked at his reflection and saw that his jacket looked too small, too snug. Maybe he just hadn't noticed this morning. After all, he had been building up with Larry's training routine. The itching was feeling out of control. He scratched all down his arms to the back of his hands. He looked at them in shock. The backs of his hands were covered with short, dark hair, hair that hadn't been there before. He unbuttoned his cuff, pushed up his sleeve, and saw the same kind of dark hair growing on his forearm. This couldn't really be happening! He quickly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. All that itching was being caused by dark hair sprouting thickly all over his chest and stomach. He looked just like one of those hairy guys who shaves and lets it grow back It was short and lay flat on his skin, but already he could see the swirls and pattern it was making. It wasn't his imagination at all. And it wasn't his imagination that his clothes were getting tighter. His arm muscles were bigger, and so were his pecs. They must have slipped him some of their product. He pulled himself together, buttoned his shirt, which was now almost tight across his chest, and returned to the table. There, he asked them what was going on. Larry told him that they had all felt the best way for him to understand the product was to experience it himself. Tucker tried to hold back his panic. He asked how much they had given him, and one of the clients, Jake, told him they had given him a basic, full dose, like Larry had taken. Now Tucker stared at Larry with a new and different kind of interest. Panic subsided and curiosity set in. His mind could barely grasp the fact that he could soon be as massively built as Larry. He looked at the way Larry's arms, at rest, strained the material of his huge sleeves, filling them up tight and full, and bulging insanely when he lifted or bent his arms at all. Across his gigantic chest his pecs stood out like pillows filled with steel, straining the fabric, pulling the buttons. He noticed that, at his collar where he had loosened his tie, there was hair creeping up and out over the collar. Tucker knew that Larry had had a completely hairless torso. It looked good, he thought. What a strange thought to cross his mind, that hairon a guy's chest would look good. Or not. But it did look good to him, kind of darkly masculine and sexy. Tucker felt himself sweating as the conversation at the table continued as if nothing strange were happening. His itching had not abated, and he guessed that he was feeling hair continuing to grow. Strange, but suddenly he found the idea growing of body hair very hot. He wished he could look. He tried to act casual and continue to eat and talk and drink, but every time he lifted something to his mouth, he could feel his arm a little bigger inside his sleeve. Soon, even the arm at rest began to swell against the fabric of his shirt and jacket. His clothes were becoming uncomfortably tight. He felt his slacks becoming tighter and tighter. At first he just felt the tightness in his thighs, but soon he could feel his calves filling the fabric. At the same time, the material grew tighter around his hips, and he figured his glutes must be getting bigger, too. And he also realized, to his astonishment, that the crotch of his slacks had started to constrict him in his groin, crowding his genitals. With the hand in his lap, he felt himself, confirming his most outrageous suspicion. What was inside the crotch of his pants was also growing bigger, and with his thighs pulling his pants tight, his dick and balls had no place to fall, and suddenly, there was his meat making bulges in his slacks. His meat! How big was it getting? He could feel that there was more there, crowded, sensitive, even his balls making their own bulges with their swollen size. He began to feel extremely self conscious and, at the same time, extremely turned on by what he felt. He felt his dick starting to swell and grow hard in his pants. With his hand, he could feel the size of its head and it didn't feel real as it crawled, growing bigger and harder, along the side of his groin, over his thigh toward his hip bone. He couldn't stand up now without showing the whole restaurant the effects this transformation was having on him. He wanted to be angry. He couldn't believe they had done this without telling him first, and he told them so. Larry asked if he would have gone along with it. He said probably not, and Larry said that's why they hadn't asked. But his anger was being quickly swallowed up by his growing feeling of excitement. Strange, he thought, but even as he was sitting there, he knew that something was changing, not just in his body, but in his head, too. He had been on Larry's case about getting too big, with his bodybuilding, to keep his place as an acceptable ad man, and now, suddenly, he was looking at Larry's enormous size and finding it exciting, even desirable. In fact, he was sure he could see Larry getting even thicker and more massive as they sat there, his shirt tighter, more revealing, causing increasingly strong waves of erotic stimulation to radiate through him. His collar grew tight and he felt hot. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar button, and when he did, he felt hair growing at the base of his throat out of his collar. The waiter cleared their plates and brought coffee while Larry and the other two discussed the incredible potential of their product, once its ability to transform was made public. The one called Ted joked that they seemed to be making it public right now. Larry sat up tall in his chair, grinning, swelling his chest, replying that they sure were. His huge muscles strained the fabric of his shirt. He was enormous and Tucker couldn't believe his eyes. But he knew that they didn't mean just Larry when they talked about going public. He could barely move his arms, the back of his jacket pulled so snugly against his back and shoulders. It felt as though he were wearing a child's jacket and slacks. The sleeves were so tight with his arms relaxed, that he couldn't bend them without the material straining like a leather restraint belt. The top several buttons on his shirt, over his chest, were pulling, straining, about to pop. Tucker was filled with a confusion of emotions. He wished he were any place but a public restaurant. He could no more hide what was happening to his body than Larry could. He knew he must be starting to look ridiculous in his clothes. People around the restaurant were looking at them, commenting in whispers to each other. But he also felt a certain envy at how Larry seemed to be inviting the stares, how he not only didn't seem to care, but looked proud to display his transformation, his increasingly massive size. Oddly, he realized, he sort of felt that way, too. He felt like some deeply hidden desire, some drive he had never acknowledged, was being forced into his reality, and he had no choice but to accept and embrace it. There was no sense fighting what was happening, since it was happening for all to see. A growing sense of enjoyment, an intense, profound, erotic satisfaction crept through his consciousness as he began to admit to himself how hot he felt, his muscles growing big and hard, becoming like those of a real bodybuilder. Tucker reached for his coffee, and felt the seam down the side of the jacket under his arm, where his lats were swelling beyond the jacket's capacity to hold them, start to rip open. When he bent his arm to lift the cup, the seam down the back of the sleeve also began to give way with a tearing of the threads. If he didn't get out of the jacket right now, he would be treating the other diners, who were already watching, to the sight of his clothes splitting open before their eyes. He asked one of the men to help him get out of the jacket. He struggled his arms out of their confines, and when he twisted to hang the jacket on the back of the chair, the second button of his shirt gave in to the strain of his mounding pecs and popped off. He had to loosen his tie more, and since it was obvious to him that the other buttons over his pecs would soon give way as well, he unbuttoned them down to below his chest, where his lats angled in to his hard, slender abdomen, and the buttons had room to hold. The shirt spread itself open over his pecs, the tie covering only part of his exposed chest. He saw the thickness of his pecs dive into a deep crease of cleavage, dark hair covering the skin. His dick reflexed against his groin with the sudden thrill of what he saw. He could no longer deny that he was extremely turned on by what was happening to him. He felt wave after wave of intense erotic stimulation flood his body and his brain. He had never felt so horny in his life, so hot, so sexy, with a totally new, powerful sensation of maleness. This was making him feel deeply, intensely masculine in a way so overpowering that he had never imagined possible. He was beginning to understand Larry's pride. How could he have thought that being massive and freaky would be weird and embarrassing. He wondered briefly what his girlfriend would think if she could see him now, but he realized he didn't really care. He wanted to feel another person touching his muscles, but it wasn't his girlfriend. He looked across the table at Larry. His account executive was saying to the two clients that it looked like both he and his boss were about to grow out of their clothes, and that they should probably be getting out of here and going to someplace more private while they completed their transformations. Tucker stared at Larry, and he realized that the sight of his friend's massive muscles almost exploding inside his shirt was making his cock throb. He had never felt the slightest sexual attraction for another man before, but now, when Larry said they should get to someplace more private, his mind flooded with images of Larry taking off his clothes, of seeing all of his incredible body, of touching it, feeling those massive muscles. What would the hair on his body look like? How big would his cock and his balls be? And what about his own? He couldn't wait to see what he looked like, too, to see himself packed with muscle, hairy, amazingly hung. The thought of them naked, together, made him so much hornier he thought he might come, uncontrollably, right there in the restaurant. His hand reached under the table again to feel his crotch, and he realized that his cock, jerking with his erotic thoughts, rock hard and straining the material of his slacks, now extended past his hip bone and felt thicker than a giant cucumber. It was growing bigger still. How could he get up and leave? The other two said that Larry was probably right. They would pick up the check and get in touch later. They said everyone would have a clearer picture of just what they would be marketing and how to use Larry and Tucker as spokesmen for the product. If respected advertising executives could transform themselves and enjoy their new look, why not the average Joe on the street. Go home, they said, enjoy the rest, and call tomorrow when it's all finished. Tucker held his jacket in front of himself as they left the restaurant. Walking was a revelation. He could feel the size of his ass in his slacks, the mass of his legs. His slacks were tight as skin. His thighs not only rubbed together, they forced his legs to move around each other with each step, the way he had seen bodybuilders walk. He could feel the material of his shirt stretched so tight across his back that his lats felt pressed and crowded. The sleeves clung tight to the mass of his arms. He knew that the people in the restaurant must be watching them as they left. He certainly didn't look like this when he came in. But he didn't care now; he found it kind of exciting. Wait, he thought, till they went public about what those people had just witnessed. They decided, waiting for their cars, to go to Larry's place. It was close. Larry drove ahead and Tucker followed in his Jag. On the way over, to his shock and growing excitement, Tucker felt the seam in the back of his slacks and on the legs start to split open. For one brief second, he thought about his suit being ruined, but he realized he would never be able to get into it again, and his uncontrollable arousal only increased with the idea that he was growing so big so fast as to rend the fabric of his old image. His shirt sleeves had become uncomfortably tight, and he bent first one arm, then the other, flexing his biceps until the sleeves burst, ripping open and exposing the massive peaks of his hard, swelling guns. Oh, yeah, he thought. This was too hot. He flexed his lats and felt the sides and back of his shirt rip open. It was as though he was being released, his muscles unbound. His lats felt so thick and wide under his arms, and his arms felt so dense and huge resting on the swelling, hard cushions of his lats. He looked down at his chest, pulled off his tie, felt his pecs with one hand. They were becoming absolutely huge now. The front of his unbuttoned shirt had pulled apart even more to expose a broad expanse of his bare chest. The plates of his pecs were becoming so thick that the crease of cleavage between them could swallow his fingers up to the second knuckles. And they were becoming truly hairy. Just the kind of hair, if he had grown up with body hair, that he would have wanted to have. It had become much denser since his trip to the bathroom, but it still was not too long, and it lay flat on his skin, silky and dark. He ran his hand under his shirt feeling how the hair grew all the way over to the broad sides of his pecs and down to the deeply overlapping cuts beneath them. His pecs were growing, not just massively thick, but broad and square, and they were almost totally covered with hair. His dick was throbbing inside what was left of his slacks, and a dark, wet spot of precum was growing by its enormous head. He let his hand continue to feel the hair that was growing down his abs. They were dense and hard as bricks, and their ridges and valleys were growing more extreme, harder, deeper, and the hair that converged down their center felt unbearably hot. With a reflex that never passed through his conscious mind, he grabbed his shirt, which had remained buttoned and intact where his waist was still tight and small, and he yanked it open, popping the buttons off, tearing it out of the waistbandof his slacks so he could see more of his hard, increasingly sexy hairy stomach. Between the awesome growth of his muscles and body hair, he felt an unexpected sensation, a deep, intense, overwhelming explosion of masculinity, a powerful building of raw erotic animal maleness. He was about to pull open his slacks, to grab his cock and bring himself to the relief that he felt himself relentlessly building toward. He was so hot he had to come. He had to come NOW. But just then Larry pulled into a driveway and into his garage. Tucker followed. Larry jumped out of his car and came around to Tucker. His own clothes, while still intact, were straining to the point of giving way. He was unbuttoning his shirt. He opened Tucker's door, saying he had to get out of his clothes, and he laughed when he saw how far out of his Tucker already was. Tucker followed Larry inside. By the time he had reached the living room, he was out of his shirt and had undone his pants. Tucker followed suit, getting out of his own shirt and undoing his belt and zipper. He didn't even care that his cock was hard and huge and obvious for Larry to see. So was Larry's, now, and he didn't seem to give a fuck. Larry had Tucker help him pull off his pants, the thighs were so tight. His bikini underwear came off with them. He jumped to his feet, spread his arms and legs, then flexed every muscle on his body as he moved slowly and deliberately into a double biceps, enjoying the freedom of his gigantic muscles being released from the restrictions of his clothes. His cock projected straight out from the dense big bush of his pubic hair, thicker than his wrist, and longer than his forearm. His balls hung almost halfway to his knees and looked the size of large oranges. His arms, his legs, his pecs, his abs, and his groin were covered with short, silky, dense hair that swirled and plunged in patterns that emphasized the size and shape of his body, his muscles, his exaggerated male equipment. Tucker looked in awe. Was this what would happen to him? Larry was bigger that any professional bodybuilder Tucker had ever seen. Noticeably bigger. Everything about him was insanely massive. Somewhere deep in his brain a faint thought of panic, or fear, or possible regret flitted by, but it was fast submerged in an tsunami of deep, intense, profoundly erotic arousal. He had never seen anything that turned him on so much as the sight of Larry and the thought that the same thing was happening to him. With a few violent rips and tugs, and some help from Larry, Tucker released himself from what was left of his clothes. in front of a full length mirror in Larry's bathroom, he saw the mind-blowing sight of his own reflection for the first time. He was magnificent. With Larry standing beside him, he could see how much farther he had to grow before he would be done. His mind reeled. He was big like the bodybuilders that he never let himself think about becoming. It wouldn't have been the right thing for a big ad exec. The thought made him laugh. And now he was that big, and he didn't give a fuck if people thought it was strange. Not only that big, but he had body hair that looked like a porno illustration. Where the line of hair had disappeared into his pants, now he saw it continue, spread thicker, and merge with his pubes which had spread on his groin, a major thick, dark tangle of luxuriant growth. It grew up his belly to where he knew that anything low cut that he wore would show groin hair. It spread out onto his upper thighs and joined uninterrupted with the hair that covered his massive legs. And from that sexy bush hung a pair of balls the size of lemons surmounted by his rod, a stiff, jerking, throbbing rod of veiny flesh at least a foot in length and so thick he could barely get his hand around it. He grabbed it hard with one hand while he stroked his unbelievably hot bod with the other, across his full, gorgeous, hairy tits, and down the furry peaks and valleys of his abs. Next to him, he saw Larry grab his own cock with both hands. He saw how Larry had to reach around his humongous pecs to get hold of his dick, how it made his pecs mound up with insanely thick mass. He noticed the beyond-human flare of Larry's back, the wide-spread stance of his tree trunk legs. He thought how much hotter Larry looked with his even more perfect, outrageous body hair, and the size of his equipment. He was out of control with the thrill of what he saw and what was happening. He couldn't wait to get like Larry. He couldn't wait. And suddenly, without a stroke, his groin exploded with the start of an orgasm that radiated through his body, contacting him into a total body spasm that traveled back into his groin, down the length of his wonderful cock and finally rocketed him into space, a space he never even imagined possible. He thought his joints would fly apart as he shot volley after volley of hot, thick cream, jerking with ecstasy as it hit the mirror so hard it splashed all over him and Larry. And it just kept coming, and coming, pumping up from some place so deep he didn't know it existed. It hit him in the face and all over his chest and stomach. He saw it hitting Larry, matting the hair on his gargantuan chest, plastering it down as it ran down his abs. Finally, after what must have been more than a minute of full ejaculation, it slowed and stopped. Larry was laughing, rubbing the cum into his hair, massaging his tits with its slippery lubrication. Tucker did the same, taking his lead from the hunk beside him. He felt so good, his body felt so good under his hands. His cock was still hard, still, to his amazement, throbbing, wanting more sex. Then Larry reached for him, pulled him over, and began to massage the sticky fluid into his pecs and all the way down his abs. As soon as Larry touched him, he knew he had waited his whole life for this. He sucked in his breath and Larry leaned forward and placed his mouth on Tucker's. The feel of a firm mouth surrounded by stiff, scratchy whiskers made him suck his breath in again, almost to the point of fainting with passion, and he felt Larry's tongue press in to explore. He let himself lean hard into Larry's body to hold himself up, felt his pecs press against the hard, enormous mass of Larry's. He felt Larry's huge cock find his abs and start to work up them as they moved closer together. Then his own cock touched Larry's pubic hair and the base of his dick. Larry pulled him closer until both their cocks were pressed between their rock hard bellies, rubbing against each other, stimulated by the hair on their bellies. Tucker felt almost weak, swept into a tide of erotic, male passion. Larry kissed him hard, moving from his mouth and pressing his lips and tongue into the soft flesh under Tucker's jaw line, his chin, sucking on the cleft in his chin, working it with his tongue, then down his throat to his chest, where he buried his face in Tucker chest hair, licking deep into his cleavage and cuts, sucking and nipping at his nipples. He grabbed Tucker's hard, round butt and pulled him closer still, pushing their groins hard together. Then, before Tucker knew what was happening, Larry had wet his fingers with Tucker's spunk and was working it between his buns and into his asshole. Tucker realized what Larry intended to do, and there was no way he could make himself want to stop him. He was so hot and so horny that he wanted more of everything, wanted to do, to know everything that could be done with and to the male body. He worked on Larry's pecs, massaged them hard, pressed the heels of his palms into their dense mass, lifting their incredible weight. He couldn't believe his own would soon be this massive, and he couldn't wait to feel it on himself. Larry turned him around, reached under his arms, around his lats, and grabbed his pecs to pull him close from behind. Tucker felt the head of Larry's cock against his butt, pushing between his buns, separating them with its fist-sized head. He was so hot he didn't care how much it hurt; he wanted to feel Larry deep inside him. Larry was telling him how hot he was getting , how big. He told Tucker to flex for him, and Tucker felt hot and powerful as he raised his arms in a double biceps. His arms were getting huge. He looked in disbelief at the size of his biceps, how they peaked. He heard Tucker saying what great fucking arms, what great fucking tits, as he massaged his pecs harder. And then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, Larrywas inside him. He slid the entire length of his cock in, slowly, filling him, deeper, deeper, until Tucker felt himself stop against the dense hair and hard flesh of Larry's groin. He closed his eyes and a groan escaped his lips. Larry held him there for a minute, not moving, just pressing himself hard into Tucker. Tucker felt the fullness of Larry in him. Then Larry slowly moved his hands down Tucker's torso, across his swelling, growing muscles, until he had taken Tucker's cock in his hands. As he slowly began to stroke the length of Tucker's cock, he withdrew himself and pressed himself back inside Tucker in the same rhythm. He gradually increased his tempo, withdrawing himself slightly more each time, until he was pulling out past the rim of his cockhead, feeling the flaring edge pop out and back in again, slamming Tucker's hard ass each time he rammed himself in to its full length. Tucker felt the heat increase until he felt white hot. His moans became open mouthed groans, increasing in volume and intensity with Larry's pounding rhythm. He felt Larry's breath, hot against his neck. He was nearing orgasm. He could feel it building in him until he felt himself rocked by another nuclear explosion, like before but stronger, squeezing him to the center of his cells, his body alive with pulsing, shocking, jolting sexual electricity. And as he watched thick streams of white cream jet out of his cockhead he felt Larry inside him jerking hard, convulsing with his own release, filling him with hot juice. He felt himself fill up until Larry's cum was leaking out and running down his butt and dripping off his balls. When their convulsions finally subsided, they both collapsed on the floor in the pools of their cum, laughing, rubbing handsful of it onto each other, plastering down their hair, slipping and sliding their hands over each other's incredible muscles. Larry suggested a swim in the pool, and they went out to his patio. Tucker felt magnificent. He could feel himself still steadily swelling bigger, harder, denser, his body hair filling in, his dick and balls growing more and more like Larry's. Then, suddenly, he felt his muscles start to cramp. Deep in his bowels, where he had taken Larry's load, he felt heat building and radiating. It felt kind of good, kind of sexy, but it also felt strange. He felt his muscles draw into themselves in a deep, but not a painful cramp, and then relax for a second or two, and then draw up again, almost like mild convulsions. He told Larry how he felt, and he went to the side of the pool where he could stand and lean against something for support. He laughed at himself for reacting, but the feeling of convulsing grew stronger, even though he was not outwardly convulsing. He looked at Larry watching him, and he saw amazement, maybe fear in his friend's eyes. And then he knew what was happening. Somehow, taking Larry's cum must have increased the activity of whatever was causing his transformation. The rate had increased. He was growing so fast he could see it, and so could Larry. He could feel it. Suddenly he was on a rocket. He could feel his arms getting thicker and heavier, even as his lats flared and pushed them out, up. His pecs were ballooning inside his skin, broader, thicker. They were growing so big so fast he thought his skin would split. He could hardly see over them. He could feel his butt, where he was leaning, growing bigger, thicker, harder, literally pushing away from the side of the pool. His thighs pushed away from each other as they grew bigger and bigger, until he had to bend his knees to stand. His cock throbbed, reaching a spontaneous orgasm again, spraying his cream into the pool. He heard himself saying Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! over and over again. And his orgasm didn't stop; he just kept shooting spurt after spurt, and his cock kept growing, bigger than Larry's. He could feel the weight of his balls against his thighs, almost to his knees. He had to see. It was hard to get his arms around the mass of his torso to reach them, but he lifted them and they were bigger than Larry's, too. They were the size of softballs. He wished he could get to a mirror. He knew he was bigger than Larry all over, and he was still swelling, exploding with mass. Christ! This was incredible! Would he be able to walk? Did he care? Larry was voicing his amazement. As Tucker continued to grow, his mass swelling, adding to itself, his orgasm going on and on, Larry could see that Tucker was lost in the sensations of what was taking place. No wonder. He could tell that Tucker was in a place beyond ecstasy, that he was flying on an orgasmic rocket. His traps threatened to engulf his head and his delts surpassed the size of bowling balls. Larry wanted him, wanted his muscle, his unbelievable display of manhood. Tucker seemed not to be able to stop feeling his own muscle as it grew thicker and denser. Larry stepped up to him and began to join his monster friend in feeling, massaging the gigantic boulders of hairy muscle hanging on his incredibly broad and growing chest. He grabbed the throbbing, spraying cock. There was no way he could get his hand around it and it had to be over two feet long now. He heard Tucker breathlessly crying for him to take it, take it. He held the gigantic head to his face, then licked around the spouting slit. His lust and hunger overtook him, and he drank as much of Tucker's cum as he could, and when he was full and still crazy with desire, he turned and positioned himself asshole to cockhead and began to push back onto Tucker's rod. As soon as he made contact, he felt Tucker grab his waist and thrust hard. He was sure he screamed. It felt like he was being impaled on someone's leg, but his lust was so intense that the very size of the gigantic tool inside him was driving to the heart of his insatiable need for more. Tucker was still pouring cum out of his cock, and he held Larry tight against him as he flooded his gut. Even when Larry had been filled to the point that he could feel his belly distending and cum running out of him and down his legs, Tucker held him hard against him. The more Larry felt filling inside him, the more he wanted it. There was no way he could get enough. Until he began to feel the heat in his own belly and the convulsing in his muscles begin. Tucker could barely catch a breath from the relentless orgasm he was having. It didn't seem to matter how much he came. He just felt himself getting more and more turned on, hornier, constantly more erotically charged. Even as he pumped a steady stream of his juice into Larry he could feel himself growing bigger, thicker, heavier. He was so in love with the feeling of his muscles growing so much more massive so fast that there was no way now that he could have enough of the feeling, no way he could ever get big enough. It seemed like the juice he had taken from Larry was even more concentrated in its effect than the original dose he had been given. It was incredible. If only he could get more. And then, when he saw Larry, still impaled on his churning cock, begin so show the signs of convulsing, he knew that they were each producing a more concentrated version of the formula by its very action within them. No wonder it was such an intense sexual sensation and experience. The whole thing was sexual in its most basic nature. The muscles, the body hair, the amazing growth of their genitals, all of it was the expression by the body of an unleashing of the deepest essence of physical male sexuality. Even as those thoughts were crowding in on his consciousness, he saw them confirmed. Larry began contracting, his already huge glutes squeezing Tucker's cock so hard he thought he might burst, if it didn't feel so good. Tucker saw, immediately, that Larry's lats and delts were swelling again. From his position behind him, Tucker couldn't believe how Larry's back began to flare like a cobra's hood, how his bowling ball delts began to look more like basketballs. He put his hands on Larry's butt to slide himself out, and he could feel the iron pulsing of those glutes swelling into larger boulders. When he pulled his cock out, he was shocked at how much it had grown inside his friend. He turned him around. Larry was grinning, his eyes rolling up into his head with the extreme ecstasy he was feeling. He could only keep saying how incredible he felt, how unbelievable this was. He was massaging his own pecs, feeling their hard, swelling contours, pressing the heels of his hands hard into their sides, pushing against them as he felt them pushing out, broadening, thickening. They were beyond enormous. His arms were so huge it was difficult to bent them very far before his forearms were stopped by the ham-like biceps bursting on his upper arms. His lats had pushed them above forty-five degrees. His thighs forced his legs farther apart even though his quads firmly pressed against each other almost to his knees, to where his balls rested now, two very large grapefruits churning with his sex. His cock projected straight out from his increasingly hairy groin, more than two feet of thick, veiny manhood, and as his cries of ecstasy increased, he began to shoot, just like Tucker. Now both of them were standing in the pool, Tucker bigger than the biggest bodybuilder, and Larry bigger than him by half, both of them still swelling, and both of them shooting non-stop volleys of heavy cream. They laughed and they moaned with constant, growing erotic animal pleasure. They shot all over each other. They rubbed the slippery cum into the hair that was still growing thicker on each other's torsos, enjoying the feel of their mass, their deep cuts, the mounds and boulders of harder, denser, bigger muscles. After a few more minutes, when Tucker saw how enormous Larry was becoming, still swelling, veins popping all over his body, his skin thinner and thinner as the muscle beneath stretched it like tissue, He realized that Larry's growth was even more extreme than his after he had taken a belly full of Larry's juice. So the combination of the original dose plus Larry's cum had magnified the strength of the process in him, and what he gave to Larry had been that much stronger. That meant that what Larry was shooting out of his cock now would probably be stronger still by that much more concentration. He looked at Larry's cock, which was like the thick end of a baseball bat and nearly a yard long, he guessed. Could he take it? He wanted to. He wanted it bad. He playfully forced it down below the water, feeling how it was so stiff that it felt spring-loaded, and let it go. It sprang up, to their delight, with a thwack hitting Larry in the face. Tucker reached up, took its frighteningly huge head and brought it down as he turned around to his own huge, hard bubble butt. He pushed back onto it, felt it stretch him until he thought his flesh would tear. But something about this transformation also seemed to increase his capacity to open and accommodate such a tool, because he felt Larry's hands on his waist, then the pressure of his friend pulling his back as he thrust forward, and with a blinding flash of hot, erotic pain, he felt himself fill with Larry's hot flesh. He could feel the juice pumping into him. It was so hot that he tried to stand still and just experience the sensation. His own cock was still ejaculating. He had been ejaculating for at least an hour, and he couldn't believe he wasn't exhausted, but the intensity of the orgasm kept growing stronger and energizing him. He would let Larry fill him for as long as he could stand it. If he could, he would stay on this giant cock until he felt himself growing more, growing faster. The water in the pool was becoming cloudy with their cum. Tucker had no ideas how long he had stayed on Larry's cock. He remembered that when his arms were resting almost straight out to his sides and had grown bigger than a bodybuilder's legs, Larry had been forceful about having another turn himself. He vaguely remembered that they each took several more turns. He remembered that, no matter how big their cocks had grown, they seemed to be able to stretch to take them in, even when they were much too long to take more than half their lengths. He remembered, at one point, that they were going to get out of the pool and try to pose for each other, but they found that they were so heavy that it was almost impossible to balance themselves and stand up without the help of the buoyancy of the water. So they had stayed in the pool. Their cocks grew too long to reach the throbbing, insistent cockheads themselves, but that was not problem since they couldn't get enough of doing it for each other. They didn't give a fuck about the consequences when they realized their dicks extended over their heads; it was just too fucking hot having such gigantic cocks. They completely lost any sense of time as the night wore on and they took turns impregnating each other with stronger and stronger doses of the growth factor, and getting more and more lost in the intensity of the erotic sensations of their growing mass. They never even heard Larry's phone ring, late the next morning, when they hadn't shown up at the office. About ten o'clock, Sean Gallagher came to check. The new potential clients had shown up for a nine o'clock appointment. Sean had first checked at Tucker's house and found no one home. So he came to Larry's. He found them in the pool. Sean was in shock at what he saw. He had talked to Larry about the new product, and had known more than Tucker about what these guys were up to. He had even been kind of excited to see how it worked on Larry, because, deep, secret truth be known, he had always wanted to have a body like a bodybuilder without having to do all the work to get it. But in his wildest imaginings, he had never conceived of anything like what he saw that morning. The two of them were oblivious to him when he walked onto the patio. They were facing each other, leaning against the side of the pool for support. They stood there, the two most grotesquely, monstrously muscular men ever conceived in the brain of the most obsessed muscle freak, massaging, caressing, feeling each other's bodies, lost in the sensations. Projecting from the groin of each of them, resting on the shoulder of the other like a pair of crossed swords, lay their cocks, projecting above and beyond their heads, spurting thick, heavy cream like fountains into the water. Sean didn't know what to do. He was terrified. He called their names. When they finally took notice of him, they said he would have to help them out of the pool. They obviously wouldn't be getting dressed and coming into the office. Sean noticed they weren't at all upset about the freaks they had become. He didn't know what to do about getting them out of the pool, since he was wearing his suit. Tucker told him to just take his clothes off. He'd need to take a fast shower anyway, since the pool water was a swamp of milky juice, a layer almost coagulated on the surface. Sean was mildly disgusted by the prospect, but he couldn't leave them there, so he laid his clothes neatly on a chaise. He also felt a little, dark thrill at the sight of these two hairy muscle monsters with their monster dicks. As he tried to help them move out of the water, they got him laughing at the difficulty of maneuvering such mass. He was immediately slippery, too, with the juice surrounding him. They slid around, Sean having to grab their immense muscles as he tried to help them balance. It was impossible to stay out of the way of the fountains of spunk that were still spurting into the pool. He was soon so covered, in his flailing attempts, that he had to accept getting some in his mouth. He didn't swallow much, but the concentration level had increased so much that it didn't take very much before he felt a strange heat in his belly. To be continued....
  20. Newmassaddict

    Growth Part 8

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE 8 Tyler and I ran towards the sound. We heard another crash near the front desk. As we got closer I moved behind the desk and there, crouched in the corner was a terrified looked man. “Get the FUCK up!” I screamed. The guy slowly stood up as Tyler and I; still naked, stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking any escape. The guy was shaking like a leaf. He looked young; maybe early 20s. He was tiny compared to us. Some would say he was beefy but he couldn't have weighed more then 200lbs. “Were you watching us? Getting off on our massive bodies?” Tyler shouted. “No-no…” The kid stuttered. “Yeah I think you were. I think you were jerking off as we tossed those huge weights around and fucked each other raw.” “I swear I wasn’t. Please don’t hurt me”. He said; sounding close to tears. “How the hell did you get in here?” I asked. “My-my dad…” “Your dad WHAT?” “He owns this place. I’m Grant’s son Matt. I just wanted to workout. I swear I didn’t know anyone was here.” I looked at Tyler who was looking at the kids crotch. I looked down and saw he had a huge hard-on under his baggy shorts. I smiled and stepped closer. He stumbled back and crashed into the counter. “Did you like the show?” I whispered and raised my left arm and flexed. The kids eyes bugged out of his head at the close up view of my 25” biceps. I raised the other arm and flexed both mammoth biceps in his face. Tyler stepped closer and hit a side chest pose. The kid started to shake and moan. We watched as a wet spot appeared on the front of his shorts. He looked at us and tears started to pour from his eyes. “I know you’ve never seen this much muscle before kid but we aren’t giving away free shows. What you saw here tonight was meant to be private.” I said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” was all Matt could mumble. “You’ll be more sorry if I see you trying to catch another show!” I yelled. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” Matt climbed over the counter and scrambled to the front door. Tyler and I laughed as we showered. We found a 24 hour diner and ate close to $200 in food before heading home to crash. ———————————————————— Matt barely made it to his car before he came again. He was shaking; both from fear and from pure ecstasy. All the muscle porn he’d watched didn’t come close to what he had just witnessed. “They were so HUGE! So STRONG!” he kept saying. Matt drove home with one hand on his crotch. He showered and jerked off again before crawling into bed. His terror had subsided. Now he was depressed. Ever since he tuned 18 Matt had been working out at his dad’s gym. He had gained about 10 pounds a year and was now 22 and 208lbs. Matt wasn’t happy with his progress. He wanted to be bigger, a lot bigger. He hadn’t come out of the closet yet either. That certainly didn’t help. He had spend his whole life around big, alpha, macho men. He was terrified what his dad would do if he ever found out. The more Matt thought about what had happened at the gym the more embarrassed he became. He couldn't believe he got caught. When he wasn’t hard from thinking about them; he was close to tears. Matt stayed home for over a week. He survived on delivery pizza and soda. He could feel his dismal mass gains disappearing every day. On the twelfth day of his self-imposed exile Matt decided to take a walk. He roamed the streets for hours until he found an old hole-in-the-wall gym just a few blocks from his apartment. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. The place was even more run down on the inside. The paint was faded and peeling, half the mirrors were cracked and the floor was filthy. What it lacked in cleanliness it more then made up for it in gym equipment. The entire place was packed with machines, racks and more metal plates then Matt had ever seen. There wasn’t anyone at the front desk but Matt could hear metal clanging from the back of the large room. Slowly he made his way towards the sound. There didn't seem to be anyone else there. Matt moved around a leg press machine that was fully loaded with 45lb plates. He just assumed it was being used as a place to store weights; no one could press that much weight. His thought was interrupted by the source of the metallic bangs. There in the corner of the gym, was a beast of man doing squats. The bar was loaded with so many plates it bent across the man’s traps. With machine like precision; the man moved the massive weight at an alarming speed. He had already started his set and didn’t look like he was stopping anytime soon. He performed 14 reps before slamming the weight onto the rack. The entire room shook. The man stopped and turned towards Matt. “Hey there” he grunted. Matt slowly stood up and stepped towards the man. To describe him as huge was not doing him justice. He didn’t even look human. Matt couldn’t hide his reaction to the man’s size. He placed his had over his mouth to stifle a scream. The man lumbered closer and Matt noticed he wasn’t young. Grey hairs peppered his buzzed hair along with crows feet and some wrinkles. Seeing Matt’s reaction caused him to stop and smile. He pulled his tight shorts up slowly revealing his pumped up quads. Matt looked down as the behemoth started to flex. Thick, meaty mounds of muscle started to flare and bulge on the man’s legs. Countless veins erupted across every inch of his smooth skin. His muscles fought amongst each other until they all solidified into an unspeakable abomination. Matt couldn’t comprehend the site. He tried to stifle a gag but ended up throwing up on the gym floor. He stumbled back as he lost control of his legs. “FUCK YEAH!” the beast yelled and flexed his calves. Already the size of a football, they immediately doubled in size. Their shape contorted and solidified into a granite hard collection of inhumanly massive muscle. Matt stared horrified at what he was witnessing but couldn’t look away. In his wildest fantasies he could never imagine that someone could be this huge. The beast seemed to be feeding off of Matt’s reaction to his body. He shifted his weight from one leg to the next and continued to flex his beyond massive quads and calves. He was straining hard, grunting and spitting from the effort. “Pumped these quads past 38” today. Still not big enough. You think these legs are sick; check this out.” He grabbed the waist of his sweat soaked sweatshirt and peeled it off. Even though his shear size could not be hidden by the enormous sweater, seeing it uncovered was incomprehensible. “NO!” Matt screamed “No one is this huge!” “I AM” was his only reply as the sweater fell to floor and he stood over Matt’s shaking body. “Stand up. I’m not going to hurt you kid. Actually; your reaction is what I live for. It’s fucking hot to see you trying to comprehend all my size.” he said and stepped closer to Matt and extended his thick hand. Matt reached up and grabbed hold. His legs were shaking as Matt stood face to face with the most muscular freak of nature he had even seen. “Name’s Clint.” “M-M-Matt” “Well Matt, I assume you’ve never seen a man with over 375lbs of muscle packed on a 5’6” frame before.” said Clint. “375lb!” “378 this morning bud. Not bad for 52 years old eh?” Clint said with a smile. “FUCK” was all Matt could muster. Clint leaned down and grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Matt. After taking a big swig Clint placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder “feel a little better?” Matt nodded. “That’s good. Have a seat on that bench. I’m not done showing off just yet.” Matt’s eyes widened as he sat down slowly. Clint positioned himself a few feet away. Clint’s bull neck looked to swell as he rolled his shoulders. His huge traps morphed into something straight out a comic book. Each mound of muscle rose to touch his earlobes. Deep striations erupted on his beach ball sized shoulders. Without flexing he looked to be twice as wide as he was tall. As if he was watching Matt’s eyes, Clint slowly started to flare his lats. His impossibly wide body defied all logic and widened even more. Matt looked on slack-jawed. You could project a movie under each of Clint’s arm pits. With his fists balled up, Clint somehow managed to bend his arms and touch either side of his thick waist. He flexed his cobblestone abs, causing his waist to shrink by a number of inches. He let out a low moan as his back expanded even more. Now looking to be wider then a mid-sized car Clint held the pose. Sweat puddled on the floor and Clients arms started to shake. “FUCK this feels good!” Clint yelled. Clint finally relaxed the pose and immediately raised his enormous arms. Every visible inch of skin glistened with sweat. He adjusted his feet and started to flex his biceps. Out-massing even the most extreme cartoon morph Matt had even seen online, Clint continued to tense his arms. At their full flex, they no longer resembled what could be defined as just arms. There was no space between biceps, forearms and shoulders; only a single mound of writhing, quivering insanely developed muscle mass. Clint’s shoulders appeared to be pressing against the sides of his face. He managed a slight smile and somehow managed to wrestle his arms higher still until they were positioned behind his neck. With obvious pain on his face, Clint spat and grunted while extending his left leg and flexing his entire upper body into the most grotesque abs/thigh pose every witnessed. Matt could not contain himself and longer. He placed his hands over his painfully hard cock. Still holding the sickening pose Clint managed to say “N-n-not y-y-yet” before finally relaxing. The gruesomely huge man looked twice as big as he had when Matt first laid eyes on him. He moved towards the terrified boy. “Stand up.” he commanded. Matt managed to stand and looked Clint in the eyes. “I’m impressed you were able to control yourself.” Clint said as he placed one meaty paw behind Matt’s neck and pulled him closer. “Besides, I’ve wanted to do this as soon as I saw you.” Clint kissed Matt long and hard. He placed his hands on Clint’s freakishly bloated pecs. Clint moaned and reached into Matt’s shorts with his free hand. “Cum as you feel me.” Matt’s entire body shook. Clint lightly tugged on his throbbing cock half a dozen times before Matt unleashed a massive load into his hand. “Mmmmmm…” Clint said and pulled his cum soaked hand out. He smiled at Matt and started to lick his hands clean. “My turn” Clint said and stepped away from Matt and moved towards the weight ladened leg press machine. Matt stood with a look of confusion on his face. “1750lbs” Clint said as he positioned his mammoth body into the machine’s seat. Without hesitation he hoisted the weights up. The plates rattled loudly when he reached the top of the rep. He lowered the weight until his knees almost touched his ears, showcasing flexibility that rivalled his obscene muscularity. At the top of the next rep he paused and flexed his quads. “38 inches” he sputtered and lowered the weight again. With strain on his face he slowly powered the weight up again. Once again he stopped at the top. This time, he placed his hands on his thick quads and started to massage the dense fibers. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. Leaving one hand on his blood engorged quads his other hand reached into his shorts. He aggressively started to jerk his hard cock. Matt stood slack jawed. Clint freed his enormous cock from his shorts and continued to tug on it. “Need more size…need to be bigger…WILL BE BIGGER” he repeated over and over. After a minute at the top of the rep his legs were shaking uncontrollably. Matt started to worry the weight would come crashing down. As if sensing Matt’s concern Clint adjusted his feet and started to perform calf raises with the massive weight. Clint stared at his inhumanly developed calves as cum started to spray all over his pumped up pecs. He let out a savage grunt and lowered the weight and rolled himself onto the floor. He laid there for a few seconds before standing up. “That was fucking intense. I’ve never had someone witness me do that. You should rest here for a bit. I’m going to have a shower. Be back in a little bit.” Clint said and waddled away. Matt stood speechless watching Clint's mammoth back, glutes and quads slowly walk away.
  21. This is the original part 7 for you guys. It will still follow the path from the original parts 1-6 so dont worry, it's all still connected. The rest will be posted in the following weeks for you guy who still like the original parts. Part 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1556-my-dad-is-a-big-boy-re-post/ Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1560-my-dads-boy-is-a-big-boy/ Part 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1569-my-dads-boy-is-a-man/ Part 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1595-my-dad-is-a-secret-holder/ Part 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1596-my-dad-is-a-cum-fountain/ Part 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1606-my-dad-is-a-room-wrecker/ My skin burned as I was wrapped in a never ending bath of muscle and hair that sent warmth through ever body part. I could imagine it all happening from a bird's eye view as I lay pinned by my giant dad. His arms were placed on either side of me and the wide bed, his biceps and triceps bulging on either side of the mattress as he lowered his body, battling his forearms for space. Every other second I wasn't rubbing up against a muscle, he would kiss a body part, sending electricity into me. "Fuck..." I hissed as my cock smacked into what had to be a very low ceiling of man. Like a running faucet, I could feel myself leak pre when Dad leaned into my ear and whispered to me. " I can't control it anymore" he growled into my ear as he continued his barrage of kisses and rubs. I gave in the moment I heard him say those words. I moved over his body uncontrollably, licking him in random and hot places that seemed to flex themselves from my touches. The tables slowly turned as dad began to lean back on the bed, causing it to sink as his weight was transferred into one place. The wood in the bed frame chipped as dad's now enlarged body sat on the back of his feet, his knees spread wide and his bulge in clear view, jumping every so often as if it wanted to grow but was waiting for something. I guessed quickly as I followed dad's 15 foot body to the other side of the bed. With a kind of desperation, I quickly kissed his legs, feeling the hard quads flex and bulge. Each one was potentially bigger than all of my 230 pound body put together and probably 10 times denser as they bulged with their three headed perfection. Quickly enough, I made it to dad's abs and I couldn't help licking the set of steel up and down with an eager tongue. It seemed almost as if his midsection was so big that it spread for miles vertically and horizontally. The apollo's belt of his wait was perfect in every way, pulling in all the enormity of such a man to one place. This was extremely futile and a sea of muscle welcomed me. Obliques the size of bars of soap awaited my arrival, each one looking extremely tight and fastened into the giant my dad was. At this point, I was standing as I tried to continue going up my dad. He was so tall standing up that, even on his knees, his torso raised him more than 7 feet tall, making him taller than me even as he sat. His amazing height was the last thing on my mind before I felt my head bump into what felt like the ceiling. I raised my attention up to the cause and my mouth began to water as I saw two of the most hulking, meaty pecs hover above me. Clearly, they were far from dad's rib cage but that wasn't the only amazing thing about them. Each one was spread far and in opposite directions, making it truly appear as if a wall of hairy muscle was spread before me. Each pec was capped with the most succulent nipple on each side that seemed to drop and appeared ready to be sucked and tortured by someone's mouth. For a few seconds, that someone was me as my tongue touched one nipple and licked around it. I was lost in the muscle as dad flexed two boulder biceps that looked so big, they could eat me and still have room for a the main course. Each bicep peak soared high as they were flexed, angry veins appearing on each as the muscle swelled with blood. I found myself grabbing hold of one of dad's massive arms and licking it with all my might. I could feel myself fire another small stream of jizz as I rode the bicep. This was potentially the most amazing moment of my life as I licked and licked all over my dad's upper body. Suddenly, an enormous vein grew on dad's arm and the muscle began to shake. My dad's skin turned red as though he had come from the beach and had experienced a terrible skin burn. "Fuck, not now..." he groaned as dad's flexing seemed to be unstoppable. Dad stood and I held on as the floor became very far away from me. I had no time to enjoy the view as I heard dad groan as if he were experiencing pleasure and pain at the same time. " It hurts!" he roared as his eyes seemed to be glaring off in space, their blue intensity piercing into all who dared look into them. I knew almost instantly Medusa would look into those eyes and be the one to turn to stone from such a powerful and manly stare. I felt cock fire a load as I looked into those eyes. Dad caught this and smiled a pained smile. " Don't tire out just yet, Squirt. It's only just getting to the good part" Dad roared as suddenly every muscle in his body flexed harder than I imagined were possible. Muscle and veins were decorated across the giant as though they believed they could make such a body more perfect with more blood. It was truly a scene that could make you fire a dozen loads just from standing in front of such an amazing sight. At first, I didn't catch it. It only came in very small intervals as my eyes trained on the muscle fibers of the bicep I was hugging. Still, I saw it as the muscle almost seemed to swell before me. I trained my eyes on it, unblinking before I saw the muscle jump again. I felt my cock painfully harden as I knew what was coming next. My dad was growing! I watched with amazement as the bicep I held seemed to puff up and make it harder for me to get a hold of such a big muscle. The muscles beneath me only seemed to become harder as I felt the undentable muscle seemed to push against me and press more powerfully into every body part. I watched as my dad's massive shoulders only seemed to get bigger and bigger in front of me as though they were being pumped with air. His neck seemed to thicken along with him and I looked on, dumbfounded, as I watched my dad's head also grow too, keeping up with the rest of him. In the beginning, I thought that there was no way the two massive pecs I'd licked could possibly get any bigger. Now, I knew that was a foolish thing to think as the two creatures jumped and then swelled outward, puffing out like a swelling loaf of bread that had been mixed with A LOT of yeast. I found myself to be a really infatuated pec man as I watched the two plates seemed to thicken and grow, becoming farther away from me as the swelling bicep I hugged grew longer as well as thicker, elongating the arm and amplifying what made dad's body so hot. I couldn't help but drool as my attention lowered to the rest of my enormous dad. His wall of perfect abs looked like you could swing a metal bat into it and you'd only send vibrations through the bat as it reacted to hitting such a hard wall. Each one appeared to be perfectly segmented on his body and divided among the rest in a perfect 8 pack. I could almost tell that all this brawn upstairs was causing dad's skin to thin itself out from so much being stuffed into it. The enormity of the situation truly set in as I saw the most massive bulge in a pair of weakening briefs. Clearly, dad had used these undergarments because they were one of his last fitting pairs. The manhood hiding inside appeared to be outgrowing its incredible shrinking prison. Two hairy cannonballs that had to be filled to the brim with cum were bulging out of the leg holes of the garment as the shaft of the giant seemed to push the briefs forward and cause them to strain in order to contain everything at once. I watched as a tear formed in the hem of the underwear, the muscle beneath clearly becoming too much for such a pathetic man made invention. Dad's ever growing cock quickly joined the fun as it began to harden and mix its growth with a pump of blood. My lips actually became dry as I watched the massive manhood grow at an unbelievable speed, Outgrowing the width of my chest and my height, quickly running past that and refusing to slow down as it began to attempt outgrowing Jeff. The shaft began to thicken as the extra stretchy briefs continued to tear. I could tell almost instantly that you could put furniture on that enormous weapon and you'd find no need to have to balance it. Simple place a sofa on the cock and it would have more than enough room to sit firmly. As the manhood was growing and reaching god proportions, I watched as two quads came into view on both sides, growing as if they were trying to still be seen behind the massive growing ball sack sitting on top of them. Each one appeared to be covered in veins as they held such a massive body up with their brawn. With ton after ton of muscle being piled onto them, they must have known they'd have to grow bigger and stronger to keep up with everything else. Each one looked as if it could withstand the weight of a building and still ask for more! The segmented heads in each one swelled, accentuating each individual part and making them all look even better as a group. I looked down further and caught his calves just in time to see each one grow a vein and harden remarkably. Who needed a football when you could use one of dad's calves. Of course, even then, you wouldn't be able to throw something so big and heavy in the first place as it appeared to be far past the size of my torso. I gasped at the size of dad's feet way way below. Even from here, I could tell that each one could have been close to being able to hide a big screen tv underneath even from my perch above. Yet they still continued to grow bigger. Just as I was nearly hypnotized by the lengthening feet down below, I was brought back to a cock worthy of a giant god. With a loud SSSNAP and POP, the longest and biggest cock of all time was set free from the feeble confines that had been holding it down. A massive hand wrapped around my torso and I was lifted up and off the bicep I was lying on before I was introduced to the largest, still growing cock there was. "Help.... me.....John" Dad said through pained groans as his body continued to swell. I could tell that he was pain and that, somehow, his cock being hard was the cause of some of it. Of course, I still grabbed hold for much more selfish reasons. With the biggest man-bush to rest on, I got to work on the giant member before me. It's length far surpassed me as it seemed to be trying to stretch into the sky. For a moment, I could tell it had reached 8 feet in height but then it grew past that. Just eye balling, I could tell that it was beyond 9 feet in length and potentially 6 feet thick. It was like hugging a walrus! I was forced to use the bush and rod base beneath me as footing as I stood on the giant's crotch in an attempt to better wield Dad's weapon. "Fuck....." I heard someone above me say as I continued to rub the pole up and down with my body. I could feel it tighten as it swelled, clearly now at full erection and quickly reaching climax. Clear liquid was leaking from the high tip and falling like an erotic river down to the floor, creating a kind of puddle. I was too busy rubbing the god weapon to appreciate what was happening around me. The floor was creaking as it tried to contain all of the mass that was filling into its occupant. The bed had long been broken and was now too tiny to be stood upon by dad's large body. His legs were too big and too long! Now, each one stood on opposite sides of the bed like a married couple. "FUCK!!!" Dad roared as his head punched the ceiling and his growing cock began to leak like an open faucet. I was hot as I rubbed back and forth on the giant like the cock slave I knew I was. I was hypnotized by the size and power surrounding me that seemed to just get become more and more of those qualities I was growing to love. "I CANT HOLD IT ANY LONGER!!!" Dad roared with his deep and powerful voice. Like an oversized fire hose pumped by a faucet, dad's cock instantly thickened dramatically as it prepared to fire the biggest load of all time. Plaster fell from the ceiling as dad's ever expansive body just seemed to press harder and harder into it, his big head full of hair now matted against the vertical limit. "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!" Dad roared as his cock shook with power and fired what had to be the biggest load of all time. White, thick liquid flew everywhere in a single direction like the perfect hose. The now cracked ceiling and floors now had matching walls as the room was slowly painted in white. Dad bellowed like a lion ruling his kingdom as he fired off endlessly, his growth seeming to accelerate as it all happened. " IT"S GETTING TOO STROOOOOONG!!!" he cried as he tried grab a hold of the uncontrollable weapon. For a moment, I was surrounded by so much growing muscle and cock that I took advantage of it to fire more cum without touching my cock. Just like the night before, my cock fire was nothing compared to the cock cannon I stood on. Cum filled the room at an incredible speed, quickly covering dad's feet and slowly raised past his ankles. The room was slowly sinking in a never ending cum sea that came straight from the most powerful cock on the planet. Still dad grew and grew, his big and full lats now pressing into the ceiling. I could tell he was in pain but the smile on his face was just amazingly hot, making my now spent cock sore. " SO FUCKING BIIIIG!" he roared as he let his cock go and raised his hands to the ceiling, his massive arms flexing with everyone movement. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by pecs and biceps and a cock that were all so big I could almost see myself getting crushed between it all. Just when I thought the sex would never end, it all came to an abrupt stop. The room had been painted white just like dad's room and was now so full that, if I were to stand in it, my black body hair and skin would be bleached white from the neck down with thick, steaming cum. Dad stopped growing just as his upper back was pushed against the ceiling and his cock head was now defiantly in his face, still hard as steel and rigid as a telephone pole. I looked up at his face and he just smiled down at me with glowing eyes. " Is it alright for me to say I've gotten too big for my britches?" he asked with an even more powerful voice than before that seemed to make me leak pre just from its sound. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dad and I had trouble escaping the room as neither of us could get out without either drowning or tearing down a wall. Eventually, we decided tearing down a wall was much better than me drowning myself and getting Jeff for help. If only the NFL could have seen dad as he charged through the wall to my room like the perfect line back given super human strength and size by the gods. I had trouble finding clothes afterwards since they were all submerged in a pool of cum so I was given one of Jeff's smallest pairs of clothes. Of course, seeing as his smallest clothes were made for an 8 foot muscle giant, I had to wear them the same way one would wear covers. It was hot, against my better judgment, and I wanted it to continue but eventually, we found an old pair of clothes that belonged to Jeff before he went through his super growth spurt. It was pretty tight but it was originally made for someone who hadn't even broke the 200 pound mark. Dad said he needed some good eating so he and Jeff decided to go chow down on everything in the enormous kitchen that they could find (although a 25 foot giant is hard to feed and hard to bring around). Feeling like I needed to collect my thoughts, I asked dad if I could get a ride to a local bar but he was still stuffing himself with hundreds of pounds of meat that seemed to be endlessly piled yet still potentially not enough for someone so massive. Seeing that Dad was out of it, Jeff decided to give me the keys to his car and shooed me off. The car itself was actually really big. Coming from me, a guy who was 6'3 and a line backer, that was definitely really big. It took me only a short few minutes to find my way to the bar since I remembered where everything was but I still walked in unsurely as I parked. I stopped outside as I saw the most enormous motorcycle on its side beside the entrance. It looked bigger than the motorcycle I saw in Harry Potter. I dared to wonder whether or not it was a real bike but I kept moving anyway. When I entered the bar, I stopped in my tracks. Sitting right at the center of the many stools was the widest back and ass in the tightest leather pants I'd ever seen. Every big and burly muscle was amplified to the Holy Shit degree. I had trouble hiding a boner that had jumped up almost like lightning in my pants as I quickly ran next to him and sat in the stool beside him. I looked down and could see that his stool was struggling to hold him as it creaked from every flex his ass made on top of it. Each foot was wearing a giant boot big enough for me to put a leg into. His long legs were spread wide to the point his left leg was nearly on my chest. A muscle gut you could hide multiple bodies in was lying in front of the giant, pushing into the bar and making it also creak in protest. Pecs that pushed far and powerfully from the man's rib cage were pushed forward and look like they were just begging for someone to dare them to tear the white t shirt beneath and the leather jacket to shreds. Big arms that seemed to be far bigger than every muscle I could possibly have pushed taut against the leather jacket the man wore. High above, I could make out a shoulder so large and powerful looking, you could use it to shield yourself against bullets and be unharmed from head to toe. His hair appeared ashen gray and seemed as if it was in a hairstyle that was clearly made to stick straight up while still short and was doing a good job of staying that way. The man looked down at me through a mean looking pair of sun glasses and I could see over his massive torso that he owned a really manly and thick goatee. I could almost feel his eyes concentrating on me for only an instant before the bartender came over with a tall and wide beer mug that looked like you could eat cereal from it. He looked down at it and picked it up with a massive hand, the handle still too small for all his fingers to hold it. As if he were lifting a coffee mug, he lifted the drink and gulped it down in seconds, his massive adam's apple bouncing with each swallow. He slammed it down on the bar, making a big dent in the wood and cracking the mug, before he turned his stool to me. His long and thick legs surrounding me on both sides as he leaned down and looked into me, his upper body bulging and looking as if it would explode from the shirt and jacket. " Hey there, short stack" he said down to me in a voice that made me quiver. I came right in my pants and he could tell instantly. I went red as I tried to pretend it didn't happen. He hadn't stopped looking at me and took off his glasses. A pair of strong, electric blue eyes looked at me and seemed to be looking into my soul. I lost all attention as I looked into those eyes. " Hey.........sir" I said, trying to show respect for the big man as he looked down at me. When it seemed I would explode from the tension, the big man smiled and then laughed a big and hearty laugh that I felt in the deepest part of my being. " Don't call me sir, Shorty!" he said in the middle of his laughter. When he finally stopped cracking up, he looked back down at me with a smile. " Call me James" he said. I took this as a command as I sat in my chair feebly. A massive and heavy hand touched my shoulder and I looked up at the giant. " Is that anyway to talk to your big 'ol grandad?!" he said before laughing again. I was speechless.
  22. tortolis

    Who Is Captain X?

    I intended to add to the bullet-proof story before going on to something new, but this came together pretty quickly and was a lot of fun to execute. Hope readers find it enjoyable. ----------------- WHO IS CAPTAIN X? About six of the larger London newspapers continued to follow the controversy surrounding "the mighty Captain X" at least to some degree. But it was the little Sentinel-Observer that had broken the story, and that continued to beat the dying horse. Circulation had spiked when it first ran; it climbed for a week, then began to ebb. Letters to the editor continued to run in favor of the Captain, mostly from military men. The managing editor had a reporter looking for the Colonel and staking out the Mayfair digs of the Smith-Martyns, where it all began. Interest seemed to be slumping, but perhaps it could be renewed. Anything to keep the circulation up. "What are the newsies saying?" the editor, a usually grubby man who was looking exceptionally tidy today, asked his reporter. "It's only on a few of the boards," said the reporter, a man known as T.J. —T.J. Jones on his byline. Covering the mighty Captain X, he had shifted from society gossip to something more like a news beat. "I saw 'Captain X Scandal Drags On.' Right outside on Fleet Street." It had probably been years since the managing editor, Francis X. Nelson, had scrubbed the ink off his hands, but he had done so this morning for the most improbable of reasons: Mrs. Smith-Martyn, who started all the trouble for the mighty Captain X, had telephoned Mr. Nelson yesterday to request a meeting today. Tea at the Ritz, no less. "I appreciate the opportunity to discuss this with you, madam," Francis had told her, trying his best to keep the East End out of his mouth. "But do you really think that meeting in so public a venue is a good idea? I'm thinking only of your — " She had cut him off like a rugby player. "Mr. Nelson," she said, "you know perfectly well that wherever I go at the moment, I am being followed by journalists who hope I will betray the interests of either my husband or Captain X. Or both. But quite truthfully, I have nothing to hide. We could just as well meet on the stage of Covent Garden." And so the Ritz at 3:45 the following day was agreed upon. The whole affair, if that was the word, had started with a fund-raising evening that Mrs. Smith-Martyn had arranged to host at her home for the benefit of the boys who were off fighting the Hun in what was already being called a "world war." Most thought they would return after only a few months; some thought it would be a lark or a character-building adventure. They were confronted with unspeakable horrors that had already stretched on for over a year with no end in sight. The idea that a simple musicale with the presentation of some tableaux vivantes could cause controversy — indeed, that it could eclipse the suffering of the gallant boys in uniform — it was just too ridiculous. Still, that was what had happened. The Sentinel-Observer reported it as a society event on page eight along with two photographs of tableaux, one a Delacroix battle scene, and one captioned "The Farnese Hercules portrayed by a mighty captain in His Majesty's armed forces." Captain X appeared in both photographs, but in the Farnese Hercules he was the sole figure, shown in muscular glory but looking oddly despondent, bent over his club. He was draped in a sheet rather than a lion skin. "It was a last-minute choice that the Captain undertook as a particular favor to me," Mrs. Smith-Martyn told Mr. Nelson over their cream tea, which was handsomely arrayed, though neither was eating any pastry. "We had planned to do Delacroix's 'Liberty Leading the People,' but there was some — difficulty — and in the end…" "The figure of Liberty has her breasts exposed in that painting, does she not?" asked Mr. Nelson. "That was one of the difficulties," said Mrs. Smith-Martyn."We thought we would just drape…but in the end…I must tell you, Mr. Nelson, that the evening ended in a spirit that was entirely honorable, and with a sense of accomplishment that everyone present felt was well-earned. The Captain was draped just as the figure in the actual sculpture is draped, though we did not have an animal skin at our disposal. If anything, the Captain is more impressive a figure than the original statue. Needless to say, I had never before seen the Captain's torso exposed before. Modest as that exposure was, as you saw. Just the shoulder and arms and one side of the chest. We cut the sheet above his knees to simulate…well, as I say, I had never seen him in that way before, but it certainly did not surprise me, nor would it have surprised anyone who had seen him in uniform. Nor was I surprised when this particular tableau made something of a sensation. Would it surprise you to learn that we earned more than ten thousand pounds on the strength of that tableau alone? Funds that will buy boots and medicine for young men who are in desperate need of both. And who have neither." The original story was on the table next to Mr. Nelson's teacup, and he was peering at the news photo of the Farnese Hercules tableau. "Most impressive," he said. "But surely you don't mean that these are the sinews of his actual body, and not some kind of padding?" "Mr. Nelson, we are not a theatrical troupe. We do not have elaborate resources of that kind. Special lighting, elaborate make-up, fancy costumes — no, no, a tableau vivant is about imagination and ingenuity, and the willingness to put one's self on display for a cause." That said, the body of Captain X was not like any that Mr. Nelson had ever seen; he had simply assumed it was augmented in some clever, artful way. Sandow's and Macfadden's only began to suggest such contours — the way the shoulder was capped with a sharply defined, round mass from which the arm emerged…and the arm itself was a series of round masses that seemed taut to the point of bursting. The heroes depicted in Greek and Roman statuary were nothing compared with this man. And yet, while his arms appeared larger and more powerful than those of the Farnese Hercules, his torso tapered in a way that also projected power; 'fighting trim,' one could call it. Was it artificial, exaggerated, or wasn't it? At first it appeared grotesque, but then it seemed beautiful. How strange that he was posed to stare at the ground in so melancholy a way, with his shoulders slumped and his head bent over. Imagine him standing up straight, with his shoulders back and proud! "May I ask how Mr. Smith-Martyn felt about the Captain's participation in your event?" asked Mr. Nelson. "How nice that we can be so frank with one another," Mrs. Smith-Martyn snarled. "My husband has always been an admirer and supporter of the Captain," she said, "and he remains so. That is his chief concern now, and it is mine. My husband has complete confidence in The Captain's honor. He has always behaved honorably and has sacrificed a great deal in service to the Crown. This — this scandal — is hardly the recompense he deserves." This, Mrs. Smith-Martyn claimed, was her motivation for the extreme measure of taking tea at the Ritz: the Captain's honor, rather than her own. She might have gotten further with another editor; it was not the Sentinel-Observer that was printing items of gossip linking her with "her friend, the mighty Captain X." These had spurred a growing tide of letters from soldiers who had served under the still anonymous captain, claiming they recognized him unmistakably from the photograph and describing superhuman feats they imputed to him. All respected his anonymity, and always there were the debunkers. Reports of his carrying wounded and dead soldiers for miles, two and three bodies at a time, were met with letters from angry retired brigadiers saying that such exploits — were they possible — would have exposed him and his men to needless risk. Most of all there was the outrage over the Captain permitting himself to be displayed in an undignified manner in not one but two tableaux vivantes. Such conduct was irreducibly feminine and "an insult to the British soldier," according to a retired lieutenant-colonel. But then, according to a retired brigadier general's angry response, the real insult was that a comfortably retired career soldier would question the honor one who, after demonstrating valor on the battlefield, volunteered his services for the benefit of his men even while on leave, and cut "an undeniably heroic figure" in which the nation could take justifiable pride. Two days later it was agreed that Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Martyn would bring Captain X to the offices of the Sentinel-Observer, but still keep his identity unrevealed. Mr. Nelson had an unrevealed plan of his own to revive the story: The hapless T.J. Jones would come along and make threatening gestures as if to accost Mrs. Smith-Martyn as she, her husband and the Captain were leaving the Observer's offices, whereupon the Mighty Captain might very well make to rescue her. If it were to develop into a police matter, that would probably force the Captain to identify himself. More often such ruses unfolded in ways that could not be anticipated, but that made for good copy nonetheless. The arrival of Captain X with the Smith-Martyns certainly supported the account Mr. Nelson had sat through at the Ritz. He was magnificent-looking in uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, in a belted jacket gusseted in back at the shoulders — it was probably the only way he could be fitted. It seemed that his arms might burst their sleeves. He conducted himself with military reserve; Mr. Smith-Martyn did most of the talking. But the three visitors sensed a certain pointlessness in their discussions with Mr. Nelson, who offered them nothing more than his assurance that the Sentinel-Observer bore no animus against the Captain and would be open to favorable coverage of him so long as it met the standards of newsworthiness…and so long as they actually knew who it was they were covering. The ruse was staged by the hapless T.J. Jones as the threesome left the building: Just as instructed, he confronted Mrs. Smith-Martyn and said "Madame, I believe that is mine," clamping his hand around her small handbag. Whereupon the Captain stepped in front of him and slapped him with the back of his right hand. Time slowed as they watched: the gesture seemed modest, but oddly, T.J. Jones's head snapped violently back and his body went skidding down the street as if a locomotive had rammed it. Mrs. Smith-Martyn rushed up to the crumpled Mr. Jones and said "Heavens, his neck must be broken!" Happily, she was wrong. They all enjoyed the hospitality of the police in separate quarters — Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Martyn in one room, Mssrs. Jones and Nelson in another, and the Captain by himself with a uniformed officer. The Smith-Martyns were sent home after about thirty seconds. Down the hall, the Captain looked sullen and defeated again, as he did when posing as the Farnese Hercules. "Are you the Mighty Captain X?" a uniformed officer asked him. "Is that fellow all right?" the Captain answered. "No thanks to you," said the officer. "He accosted my friend. I was only defending her." The officer unfolded what turned out to be page 8 from the Sentinel-Observer. "Is that you?" he asked. Perhaps there was no point in denying it. But he hadn't done anything wrong, so why should he answer? The problem with this police interrogation, aside from its being groundless, was that it was being met with the military answers of a prisoner of war, and getting nowhere. Finally the Captain was asked, "are you aware that this matter was what you might call a prank gone wrong?" The Captain said nothing at first, then asked, "May I go now?" His interrogator seemed to find this question difficult to answer, and simply ignored it. "Whose prank?" "It was the newspaper," the officer said. "We cooperate with them, and they cooperate with us. One hand washes the other. It's all about information. That's the way it works, innit?" "May I go now?" the Captain asked. "If you don't mind, I'll have to ask you to remove your jacket and your shirt," said the officer. "Why should I do that?" asked the Captain. The officer laid the article on the table in front of the Captain. "Because I'd like to see if that's you," he said. After a long silence he added, "I think it is." "I don't see why that should be a police matter," said the Captain. "A lot of people are very unhappy with what went on at the home of the Smith-Martyns," said the officer. "A lot of people want to know just who you are. It's all about the information, innit?" "I'll be going now," said the Captain. "I took the precaution of locking the door to this room," said the officer. The door was painted iron, spotty, with a barred window above eye-level. "You have no reason to detain me," said the Captain. "You cannot detain me." "Is that you? Are you Captain X?" "This has gotten so far out of hand," said the Captain. "It's too absurd. What possible difference could it make if I am or am not Captain X?" "Tell me! Are you Captain X!" It was too much. The captain stood, faced his interrogator across the table, and slowly disrobed — unbuttoning his jacket, then his shirt, then the vest underneath. His shoulders, chest and arms seemed to expand before the officer's eyes as they were liberated from the clothes that had concealed them. The sinews were packed onto his massive body, the chest and arms far larger and more severe than anything the officer could have imagined, the muscles of his abdomen so much more pronounced than on an ancient shield. Those images seemed childish by comparison. But when the Captain picked grasped his clothes and turned his back on the officer, that was even more fearsome — his back, with its curving ridges. The officer had never seen anything even suggesting such contours as those. "I'll be going now," said the Captain. "Cor," said the officer, as the Captain walked up to the door. The lock had a latch handle that did not yield at first, but the Captain broke it off without much effort. "Oh, hard luck, the lock broke," he declared. He tentatively punched what remained of the lock, then decided the better of it and gripped the door's barred window. His back and shoulders swelled proudly and he smiled as he easily shook the door off its hinges, then tossed it in onto the floor. "It feels good to do that," he said. "I'm so glad to be of service. That door needed replacing, as you can see. The hinges were compromised and the lock is defective." He slipped his shirt back on and headed into the hallway as the officer looked on, gaping. "You are Captain X," said the officer. The Captain turned back to face his interrogator. With his shirt only partway buttoned, the sinews of his chest were still intimidatingly in view. "I'm Captain Morris," he said. He didn't know if His Majesty's forces would look for him. But in America, they would never find him.
  23. Hey everyone! I thought I'd give you guys a treat today with TWO chapters. Not one, but two. I'm really thankful for the response you guys have given the story so far. AND I'll still be posting the next chapter sometime this week. I hope you guys enjoy, and as always comments are appreciated (even bad ones!) Chapter One Chapter Two Hard Mountain - Chapter Three: The next morning my mind was still reeling from what I’d heard in the night. I couldn’t believe they had been having sex. Masturbation I might believe, despite how weird both them doing it together would be, but fucking each other? I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t hear any other other noises except for their voices, no thudding or creaking furniture, so it seemed a more plausible explanation. As I went downstairs, they were both in the kitchen in sweaty gym gear looking pumped. Jack was cooking while Danny was eating a breakfast of bacon, sausage and egg whites. Danny looked up as I entered, smiling. “Morning Sam, how’d you sleep?” asked Danny. “Uh, great, thanks,” I replied. Jack turned around with a skillet from the counter in hand as I took a seat at the breakfast bar, loading food onto a plate. “Hope we didn’t wake you earlier,” said Jack, putting the plate down in front of me. “E-earlier?” I stammered, trying not to blush. “Yeah, we get a little rowdy when we’re working out,” said Jack. “Oh! No, I didn’t even hear you get up,” I said, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. Glad that they didn’t suspect I’d heard anything last night, I spent breakfast covertly observing the two of them. They acted like any other father and son, nothing suspicious at all in terms of body language. Nothing to suggest their relationship was anything other than familial. After breakfast, I helped Jack pack up our lunches (more meat and veg) while Danny packed up some gear for our adventure to the caves. As the morning went by I began to relax a little more. Jack walked ahead as Danny discussed all the upcoming Marvel films with me. He looked great in a tank and shorts, Jack was wearing something similar, and it complemented their great bodies. Sometimes I’d glance down at the ground to watch Danny’s calves bulge with each step, though at one point I wasn’t paying attention and tripped on a root. Danny caught me, luckily, saving me from embarrassment. The caves were amazing and pretty deep, and thankfully not too tricky to traverse. Though at one point I was having trouble climbing up a high part and Jack lifted me up like I weighed nothing, making my tight briefs even tighter at the show of strength. Eventually we came to a sizeable part of the cave with a small lake, dimly lit by a few beams of sunlight that had managed to get through. The air was cool which felt pleasant after walking in the hot sun all morning. Jack pulled a big lamp out of his bag for a little more light and settled down for lunch. Jack and Danny talked about some of the other times they’d gone exploring and I listened, enraptured. They had some great memories together and they were always funny. I even shared a few vacation stories of my own, including the time my sister managed to get lost in Paris and we found her a few streets away, eating ice cream with some French drag queens who’d been fussing over her like mother hens. “I’m gonna go for a swim,” said Danny once he’d eaten. “Anyone wanna join?” “No thanks, kid,” laughed Jack. “That water is gonna be freezing and I like my junk toasty.” Danny looked at me but I made a face, I wasn’t keen. “Suit yourself,” shrugged Danny. He shucked off his clothes, even his boxer briefs and walked to the water. My cock was desperately trying to escape my briefs at the sight of Danny’s naked back, his glutes and legs coiling and flexing with every step. It was like watching one of the ancient Greek statues in motion, and I found it hard to look away. “Not a skinny dipper?” asked Jack, bringing me back to reality. “Uh-um, n-no,” I stuttered. “I’ve never done it.” “Well there’s no shame in that,” said Jack. “I prefer going in the stream not far from the cabin because it’s warmer.” “Oh, cool,” I said. “I kind of want to, it’s just…” I looked down at myself, drawing my knees a little closer my underwhelming chest. As much as I drooled over the bigger men, I felt incredibly self-conscious about my own body. I avoided gyms because I felt like everyone would laugh at me. Danny had even offered to workout with me, give me pointers, but my anxieties made me feel like everyone would look at him, then look at me and then feel pitiful at how much smaller I was. I never tried because if I did and failed, I would feel weak. “Hey, Sammy,” said Jack, soothingly. “There’s no need to feel modest. We’re all guys here, nothing we haven’t seen before. No one’s gonna judge you.” I felt Jack’s big hand rub my back comfortingly and it felt nice. “Danny and me, we’re big guys,” said Jack. “It’s just how we are. But there’s no shame in being smaller or feeling awkward.” He smiled and it was infectious because I smiled back. I stood up and undressed, walking to the water’s edge. Danny was swimming about and I dipped my toe in the water. I cursed under my breath at the wave of cold that hit me. The water was freezing and I wanted to go back. “Just get in!” shouted Danny, who could see all of me fairly easily as my hands were tucked in my armpits. Luckily the cold had shrunk my boner. I took a deep breath and practically ran into the water. “FUCK!” I exclaimed as cold took over me. I waded further in and began swimming toward Danny as my body started to adjust. We started splashing each other, which soon became a game of grab ass. Jack watched from the shore, smiling. Our games in the water got very hands-on. Sometimes my hands would brush against his body and I’d feel the hard bulge of muscle pushing against Danny’s skin. Even with those brief touches, I marvelled at how solid Danny was. The water would just fall perfectly down his smooth body, manoeuvring through the ridges of every muscle group. Even just watching him breathe, his abdominal muscles contracting with every breath, was a beautiful sight. At one point Danny came up behind me and wrapped his body around mine to pull me under the water. I could feel his soft junk pressed against my ass and I fought every urge to get hard, to moan at the touch, feeling his hard muscles pushing against me as he held me tight. After a while we were both getting a little tired and we still had to get back so we made our way over to the shore. As we got closer and the water was only up to our calves, my foot suddenly slipped and I stumbled. I managed to grab Danny to stop myself from falling but my ankle was throbbing, pain shooting up my leg. “You okay?” asked Danny, a little panicked, his hands steadying me. “Ye-yeah I think so,” I said, wincing. I took another step but as soon as I put weight on my foot there was more pain and I couldn’t help but wince again. Within seconds Danny had scooped me up and was carrying me to the shore where Jack was now standing. “I think it’s his foot,” said Danny to Jack, his voice full of worry. Jack grabbed a towel from one of the bags and put it down so Danny could lay me on the ground. Danny looked incredibly worried but Jack kept an air of calm. “I don’t see any blood or cuts, which foot is it?” asked Jack. “My left, it’s my ankle,” I hissed. Jack took my ankle in his hands and gently squeezed, sending pain back up my leg. I managed to hold back a sob. “Can you move it?” asked Jack calmly. “Just wriggle your foot for me.” I managed to move it but it hurt to do so. Jack sighed in relief. “It’s alright Sammy, you just sprained it, nothing broken,” he said. “Danny, pass me the first aid kit.” Danny did as he was told, almost never taking his eyes off me from worry, and Jack grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped my ankle up. “There we go, should be good as new within a few days if you keep your weight off it,” said Jack. Danny handed me another towel so I could dry myself off. They both helped me get my shorts back on. I felt so pathetic and weak; only I would manage to sprain my ankle deep in some caves. I felt even more pathetic when Danny hoisted me up and carried me on his back on the way out. Jack thought it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to even try and take the way out of the caves with my ankle and Danny just picked me up without a word. I felt bad because Jack had to carry all our bags but they both kept the mood light. It felt nice to be carried by Danny, another show of incredible strength and endurance, he didn’t even stop once. At one point my hand brushed his tank top covered pec and it flexed on instinct. Thankfully my throbbing ankle kept anything else from throbbing. -- Hard Mountain - Chapter Four: It had been a couple of days since my epic fail at the caves and my ankle was definitely feeling better. When we got back, Danny played nurse and brought food to my room and even helped me into the shower in the morning. After the first day, I could get around pretty much by myself but Jack insisted I stay in bed. They even unhooked the big TV in the lounge and brought it up for a movie marathon. After three days I could walk pretty much fine and took my bandages off, joining them for breakfast. “Feeling better?” asked Jack, putting a big plate of meat and egg whites in front of me before I’d even sat down. “Loads,” I said. “Sorry for being a cripple.” “Nonsense, these things happen,” said Jack. “Danny used to get all sorts of injuries, always tripping over something.” “He still does,” I chuckled. “On our first day of college, we’d just picked up breakfast from the food hall and Danny managed to trip over nothing. His tray went flying, the food went everywhere and it was hilarious. I don’t think Vanessa Carmichael has ever liked you since you got milk and cereal all in her hair.” Jack let out a roaring laugh and Danny playfully pouted. I was definitely getting more comfortable with Danny and Jack, plus I hadn’t heard any more middle of the night noises from them. “So boys, I need to head into to town today to pick up a few things,” said Jack. “I’m all out of beer because some thirsty asshole has drunk most of it.” Danny pretended to look innocent. Over the last few days, I found that Danny could knock back more than a few beers and not even feel it. Even I was drinking more, though not too many. “Anyway, anything you guys want while I’m gone?” We both shook our heads and Jack went up to go shower his workout sweat off before he left, so Danny and I cleaned up. “You think you can manage a walk today?” Danny asked as I was putting dishes away. “Yeah,” I said enthusiastically. “Great, we won’t do anything too strenuous,” said Danny. “There’s a great little place nearby in the forest and it’s all flat ground.” We finished up, packed a little lunch, Danny showered and changed before went out. Danny led us to a small clearing with plenty of shade only half hours walk away and we sat down on the ground close to each other. “Are you having a good time here?” asked Danny. I nodded. “It’s been really nice, and your dad is great. He’s really cool.” Danny smiled happily. “I’ve never invited anyone up here before. I’m glad I get to share it with you. And I really hope we can get a good apartment off-campus next year.” “Me too,” I said. “You’re pretty easy to live with. Though it’ll be weird when we graduate. My sister said it took her a while to get used to things once she went onto her masters and her old roommates had left, she’d gotten so used to living with them.” “Yeah, I can imagine,” said Danny, a little quieter than usual. He was silent for a few seconds, pulling at the grass before he spoke again. “So what do you think you’ll do when you graduate?” “I dunno,” I replied. “I’ve not really thought about it. You?” “Well, I’ll probably take my LSAT and go to Law school,” said Danny, sighing. My eyebrow rose. “But isn’t that what you want to do?” “I do, but…” Danny paused. “I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. But… I know this sounds so stupid but I when I finish undergrad, I kinda wanna go to Europe.” “Europe?” I asked, smiling bemused. “Why’s that stupid?” “It’s not, I guess,” replied Danny. “I just… I’ve been in education almost my whole life and I’d like a break, you know? Take a year off and go to all the capitals in Europe, see something different and new.” “Have you talked to your Dad about it?” I asked. Danny shook his head. “I know I should but I don’t want him to say no. I think he’ll just say I should go to law school first, but if I do then I’ll have to go straight into a law firm and start working and then I’ll never be able to go until I’m older and have a ton more responsibilities. I’d never be able to really enjoy myself that way.” I put my hand on his knee comfortingly. “Plus… I do want to be a lawyer but I also want to…” said Danny, before stopping. It was weird seeing Danny so unsure of himself. Despite his odd clumsiness, Danny practically exuberated confidence. It was a sight to see such a big guy, who’d normally held himself like a pillar of strength, picking at grass and wildflowers in frustration. “Want to…?” I encouraged. “Come on Danny, I’m not gonna judge you. What do you want to do?” Danny sighed and looked up at me, looking a little embarrassed. “I wanna… I wanna be like one of those pro bodybuilders,” said Danny, blushing. “You mean like those guys who go on stage and flex their muscles?” I asked, feigning any knowledge of bodybuilding, though my cock was growing hard at the thought of Danny in skimpy posers. “Yeah, I wanna do that,” he said, hanging his head. “You think it’s stupid right?” “Absolutely not!” I exclaimed. “I think that would be awesome!” “Really?” asked Danny with a small smile. “Yeah, I mean, look at you!” I said. “How many nineteen year olds are as big as you are? You could probably start doing it now, you’re pretty big as it is and I’m sure there’s some local competitions by campus.” “But Dad… he said…” said Danny. “In the past he said those things were stupid. I know he’s a big guy and when I was growing up, I asked why he didn’t do it as he just kept getting bigger and bigger and he said that it wasn’t a real job, that he didn’t need to prove himself that way.” “But I bet he’d be happy for you if you wanted to do it,” I said. “I’ve only known your Dad a few days but I can tell he just wants you to be happy. You won’t know that unless you talk to him.” Danny nodded. “Thanks Sam, I’m so glad you understand. I’ve never told anyone that stuff before. It… it feels so good to get it off my chest, you know? You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” Before I knew what was happening, Danny had pulled me into a tight hug. His hard muscles pushed into my body and warmth emanating from under his skin that felt so good to be enveloped in. He smelled so good and I wanted to kiss him so badly. But I couldn’t, because if I was wrong then I knew I would lose him. We headed back to the house later in the afternoon. Jack hadn’t come back yet so we hung out in my room. We took the lounge TV from my room back downstairs and then spent an hour talking about Danny’s trip to Europe. I’d been to France and Italy so I told some anecdotes from my vacations there and Danny hung on every word. “Maybe if you time it right, and you do well at some comps here, you could enter some European competitions,” I said. “Really build up your profile overseas.” “Sounds like a good idea,” said Danny, smiling excitedly. “And you would come with me, right?” I paused at Danny’s question. My family didn’t have that kind of money to pay for me to live abroad for a year. What savings they had went on paying for college tuition and living expenses for both my sister and me so we wouldn’t be in debt when we graduated. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “We’ll see.” “If it’s the money you’re worried about, don’t be,” said Danny. “I have a trust fund I get access to when I’m twenty-one. It should cover us both.” “You don’t have to do that!” I protested. “But I want to,” said Danny, smiling. “I want you come with me. It would be boring if I was by myself and you’re my best friend, so we’d have a ton of fun. Whaddya say? Come and keep this idiot company?” I laughed, shaking my head. “Fine, fine,” I said. “But you’re not an idiot, Danny. You’re a decent, intelligent guy. A little clumsy sometimes but no one’s perfect.” “I’m really glad we’re friends, Sam,” said Danny. “You just… get me. You don’t think I’m weird and it’s been so easy to be open with you, which is something. I’ve never met anyone I could be myself around without feeling awkward, I find it hard to connect with people and all through school I closed myself off and pushed people away. Living with you has helped me open up more and I’m really grateful for that, Sam.” “To be honest, when we first met I thought you were a meathead,” I said, which made Danny laugh. “But I guess the old saying is right, never judge a book by its cover. I’ve never clicked with someone so quickly before either.” Danny smiled his goofy smile and we got talking about bodybuilding. I asked him a bunch of questions, pretending I knew nothing about it so I could hear Danny’s thoughts on the subject. He liked a lot of the bodybuilders I did and the way he described them made my cock throb. “Okay, so I need an unbiased opinion,” said Danny, getting off the bed. “I’ve been practising a routine when you’ve been at your book club thing.” “Literary discussion group,” I corrected him. “How many times do I have to tell you?” “Yeah, that thing,” chuckled Danny. “So like I said, I’ve been practising a routine and I just want an honest opinion. Do you mind?” I tried not to turn bright red but I had no idea if I succeeded. “Sure, show me what you got,” I said, nervously. Danny pulled off his t-shirt and pushed his shorts down his legs until he stood in his boxer briefs. I didn’t know where to look, especially trying to avoid his bulging crotch, but I had to keep my eyes on him. He pulled the bottoms of his underwear up and tucked them into the waistband so he could show as much skin as possible. I could feel myself getting warmer and I put my hands on my lap to hide any signs of tenting. Danny began his routine, sucking his breath is and flexing each individual muscle group as hard as he could to make them stand out to the max. I gulped, swallowing down saliva, watching him flex. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to run over and start groping his big, flexed muscles and run my tongue over them. My fantasies were coming true, being in the unfettered presence of real, near-naked big muscles. But it was like visiting the Louvre, you could stand close to beautiful pieces of art but you just couldn’t touch it. Danny finished his routine with a most muscular and I clapped. I didn’t even realise I was doing it but he enjoyed it, finishing the pose and bowing. “So?” said Danny, out of breath and sweaty. “What d’you think?” “Wow,” I said, taken aback. “You looked great!” “Anything I could do better?” asked Danny. I ran over the routine in my mind and bit my lip. It made me look like I was thinking, but I was trying to stop myself from moaning. “If anything, you looked good; certainly showed everything off,” I said, clearing my throat. “But it’s a little all over the place. Don’t get me wrong, it was good but maybe just have a little more… natural progression. Like… your upper body is probably your best area, it had the best definition. So maybe start from the bottom and work your way up. That way you’re drawing the eyes up. Danny nodded in understanding. “I’m gonna work harder on my legs, really get them standing out,” he said. “They look amazing already,” I said, blushing. “Thanks, Sam,” said Danny, sitting on the bed and putting a hand on my shoulder. “It’s really helpful to know these things, and I’ll keep working hard until you think it’s perfect.” “Glad I could help,” I said, glowing red by that point. “I think you’re gonna do really well.” “I know I will, because you’ll be there with me,” he said. “Every step of the way. I want you there cheering me on.” I nodded. “Absolutely!” -- Chapter Five: Jack takes Sam to the stream and his junk definitely doesn't shrink...
  24. Newmassaddict

    Growth Part 7

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

    Growth Part 4

    Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE 4 I started Tyler on a new steroid cycle the next day. I told him it was pretty potent but he didn’t care. He said he’d do anything to grow massive. I adjusted my own dosage to ensure I was growing even faster. I wanted to leave my 300lb weight in the dust. We started to workout quite often and I could definitely see impressive gains in Tyler. I responded well on the new gear and was closing in on 315lbs in just three weeks. On one particular day we had meet at the gym to train chest. My tank top was nearly tearing off my body as I walked onto the gym floor. I could feel all eyes on me. In awe of my size, power and raw sex appeal. I spotted Tyler near the benches. When he noticed me coming his eyes lit up, he licked his lips and placed his hands near his crotch. He was already 250lbs and looked fucking hot even at a distance. We warmed up with bench press and both had a good pump starting when we started increasing the weight. I completed 12 perfect reps with four 45 pound plates on each side. My chest was swelling up and I was starting to sweat a lot. Standing over me Tyler watched with lust in his eyes. “Dave, you look fucking massive. Pump those pecs harder; make them grow” he encouraged. I racked the weights and at up. I flexed my enormous pecs and watched them swell in the mirror. Tyler performed 10 perfect reps before I had to help him with the last two. He grunted loudly but finished the set with good form. “One more on each side” I ordered and sat down and got ready to hoist the 495lb bar. “You’re a monster” Tyler said I lifted the bar without his help. I lowered the bar and paused for a few seconds before raising it back up. “Feel them” I grunted. Tyler quickly placed his hands on my rock hard pecs as I continued to press the heavy weight. I could feel him running his fingers along the deep striations and thick veins. He moaned as I completed 10 reps before racking the bar and stood up. I hit a few poses in the mirror as people started to gather around us. I could see fear in the eyes of a few men. A couple were visible hard watching me flex. “Two more!” I yelled. Tyler looked doubtful but one look at my face told him I was serious. With 585lbs loaded on the bar, I sat down and started to get ready to lift the massive weight. I stared at my swollen body in the mirror, bounced my blood filled pecs and let out a few screams. I balled up my big meaty hands and started to punch each pec hard. Sweat sprayed and my pecs started to throb. I looked like a wild animal as I laid on the bench. I wrapped my hands around the bar and squeezed so hard I felt like to could bend the heavy metal bar. I let out one guttural scream and powered to bar off the rack. I heard gasps from the large crowd that had gathered. The bar felt incredibly heavy and sagged from the number of plates on each end. My pecs screamed with pain as I lowered the bar. I let it touch my skin for a second before I pushed the weight back up. My arms trembled but the weight kept moving. When I reached the top I could see Tyler ready to grab the bar. “NO!!!” I screamed and started to lower the bar again. The pain coursing through my pecs tripled but I refused to give up. I felt the bar touch my chest again and with every ounce of strength I started to press it back up. When it reached the top I let a low grunt that signalled to Tyler I was finished. He grabbed the bar and slammed it onto the rack. I couldn’t move. I let my arms fall to my sides as I gasped for breath. A full two minutes passed before I could sit up. What I saw in the reflection of the mirror was nothing short of amazing. My 315 pound body had morphed into a total muscle abomination. I was bigger and more vascular then any Mr Olympia competitor. My chest was so pumped my chin rested on it’s thick upper shelf. I looked around at the crowd and most of them had a look of horror on there faces. I moved into a most muscular pose and immediately heard tearing from my tank top fabric. The material around my pecs tore away. I peeled the rest of it off and hit the pose again. I moved closer to the mirror and hit a side chest pose. My chest flexed to it full 70” and jutted four inches beyond my ripped abs. My 25” biceps pressed against my inflated chest and my traps looked down right freakish. My thick back and shoulders made me look three feet thick from the side. It was a truly incredible sight. I walked up to Tyler and I could see fear in his eyes. “Lick the sweat off the world’s biggest pecs.” I commanded. Tyler’s jaw dropped and he looked around nervously. “What?” “You heard me. Lick the fucking sweat off these freaky pecs.” “Right here? In front of everyone? No!” He said. “Did it sound like I was asking little man!” I said loudly. I placed one huge hand around Tyler’s thick neck and pulled his head towards me. I could feel him resisting but I outmuscled him. I slammed his head into my left pec. The whole crowd could hear the impact. Tyler timidly started to lick the beads of sweat from my hot skin. “Faster!” I yelled and pressed his face harder. He started to lick faster as I flexed and bounced my swollen muscles. I looked at the crowd and laughed. “You see this! Even a big man like this can’t resist all this massive muscle.” I moved Tyler’s face to my right pec and he started to slurp the sweat. After a few minutes I let go of Tyler’s neck and he took a step back. He looked mortified. The crowd couldn’t believe I had humiliated him like that. I was so amped up I didn’t care. I walked towards the cable crossover machine and noticed Tyler hadn’t moved. I stopped and turned towards him. His eyes were staring at the floor. “TYLER!” I yelled. He hesitated but walked towards me. “Did I say we were done?” “N-No.” We started doing cable crossovers. We were both looking insanely huge. After a few sets we were both posing in the mirror and tyler finally started to smile again. By the time we finished we were both using the full stack of weights and sweat was puddling on the floor under us. As we walked to our last exercise; incline dumbbells I leaned into Tyler and whispered “A few more sets and it’ll be time for me to fuck your brains out.” Tyler swallowed hard and looked nervous. We performed four gruelling sets of dumbbell presses. I maxed out using 250lb dumbbells and Tyler maxed out with 175lbs. We waddled towards the locker room. As we passed the trash can Tyler fell to his knees and puked. I wasn’t sure if it was the workout or the humiliation that had gotten to him. He stood up and followed me out. I fucked him three times that night. When I wasn’t pounding his hard ass I was posing my mammoth body for him. I tossing his growing body around like a rag-doll, used him as a human weight and dominated every moment we spent together. We both came countless times and Tyler had a few bruises the next day. Tyler didn’t call me for a week. When he finally did it was to ask whether his steroid shipment had arrived. I could tell there was something different about him. He made an excuse as to why we couldn’t workout that week. I figured he needed to take a break but I knew he’d be back. No one could resist my freakish mass and power.
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