Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'revenge'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • General
    • News
    • Introductions
    • General Discussion
  • Written Works
    • Stories
    • Role Playing
    • Continuous Stories
    • Unfinished Stories
    • Fantasies and Story Ideas
    • Chat & Role-Playing Transcripts
    • Real-Life Muscle Growth Experiences
  • MG's Storiversary
    • Storiversary Story Archive
  • Media
    • General Images
    • Artwork & Morphs
    • Artists Showcase
    • Videos
    • Before & After Transformations
  • Community
    • Personals
    • Chat Buddies
    • Surveys & Polls
    • Advertisements
  • Bodybuilding
    • General
    • Training
    • Muscle & Mind
    • Diet & Nutrition
    • Steroids
    • Watch Me Grow
  • Off Topic
    • Main Off Topic Board
    • News & Current Events
    • Weird / Funny / Interesting
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Welcome!
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Gallery
  • DC Area Muscle's Discussion
  • Tall Muscle's Discussion & Advice
  • Furry Muscle Club's Club Chat
  • Miembros Hispanohablanes!'s Presentaciones
  • Miembros Hispanohablanes!'s Culturistas buscando sponsor
  • Miembros Hispanohablanes!'s Sponsor buscando culturistas
  • Superstrength and Crushing's Your favorite Superstrength & Crushing Stories
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumb Stud Pictures
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumbing You
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Meathead Make-Believe
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Mutual Muscling
  • South East Asia Muscle Club's Muscle Tales
  • 2D Muscle Artists's Topics
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Video Clips
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Bodybuilding Websites
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Top Tips, Articles and Guides
  • Second Life's Topics
  • Second Life's GYMS
  • New York City Muscle's Member Intro
  • New York City Muscle's Personals
  • Rochester NY Area Lifters's Topics
  • 3D Muscle Club's Topics
  • Vore and Absorption's Topics
  • Vore and Absorption's Stories
  • Drain and Theft's 📰 Topics
  • BOSTON AREA BODYBUILDERS's DATING OPTIONS?
  • BOSTON AREA BODYBUILDERS's GREAT GYMS IN BOSTON AREA
  • BOSTON AREA BODYBUILDERS's SEEKING WORKOUT PARTNERS
  • Seeking Sponsorship's I am looking to be sponsored
  • Seeking Sponsorship's I am a Sponsor

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

  1. “Leave me alone, Ryan,” Megan said, pushing past her ex-boyfriend, "I know you cheated, asshole. Were you too drunk to realize my friends were there watching you? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to find out your boyfriend cheated on you from your friends?" It had been weeks since she found out Ryan had slept around and dumped him, but Ryan wouldn't give up on her. It was easy to see why he was so interested. Many would have agreed that Megan was the most beautiful girl at her college. She wore her silky soft brown hair down just past her shoulder, and the lighter streaks of blonde were natural highlights that the sun seemed to bring out when the day was bright. Her eyes were light, grey with the palest hint of green and blue, and of course, she had learned long ago, with her gaggle of girlfriends, to always keep her makeup “on point” with teased out eyelashes, perfectly-plucked brows, and flattering lip gloss. “We’re not dating anymore,” Megan said. She continued to walk, wondering what she would do if he grabbed her wrist. Would she scream? Strike him? Rip her arm away? But instead, he walked ahead of her and hovered in front, walking sideways while he talked. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Trying to make me look like a punk?” Ryan changed tactic, going on the offensive. "YOU cheated asshole," Megan thought. She said nothing. She gritted her teeth, and couldn’t resist adding one more coda as she pushed past him. “I know you loved this dick, bitch! You'll be back!” Ryan yelled after her. Megan's face flushed, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of replying. She already heard that Ryan had been hooking up with Yvonne, a cheerleader-come-influencer who Megan couldn't stand. That slut had slept with at least half of the football team, and didn't seem to have any problem with Ryan's cheating. As she turned the corner and walked along the shaded path in front of her dorm, she felt rage where previously would have been sobbing confusion. She was sick of Ryan. Everything about him. And… she needed release. As soon as she got to her room she threw her stuff down and flopped on the bed. She screamed into her pillow in frustration. "What did I do to deserve this?" she thought to herself. In a rage, she texted her friend Lisa. Lisa was 5'5" and voluptuous. Her breasts were large double DD's and her ass was fat and round. Amazingly she had a tiny waist, giving her the proportions of a porn star. Her long luxurious black hair stretched down the middle of her back. When the two of them used to go out together, they turned heads wherever they went. But it had been a few weeks since Megan had seen her; evidently her newest boyfriend was taking up a lot of her time. “Fucking Ryan won't leave me the fuck alone!” Megan texted. “Ugh asshole,” her friend agreed. "Glad you dumped his cheating ass." "I know, but now I'm so pissed I feel like I just need to get off all the time." Megan complained. “Oh I know what you mean Want my help?” “Haha you wanna come fuck my brains out?” Megan said, growing more confident. "Something like that Hang tight, I'll be over in a bit." Megan laid back on her bed and tried to take her mind off Ryan. She pulled off her clothes and grabbed an oversized tshirt. Quickly, she wiped the tears from her face and re-applied her makeup. She wasn't sure what Lisa meant, but knowing her, she probably was going to try and drag her out to to the club to get her mind off of things. Less than an hour later, there was a knock at the door. When Megan opened it, her jaw dropped. Lisa was dressed like a complete slut. She wore a tiny strapless pink dress that was virtually sheer. Underneath her pink thong was clearly visible against her tan skin, the only piece of underwear that she had on. Her ample breasts were practically falling out, her nipples partially covered. The two inch-platforms heels she wore pushed her large ass out even further. But behind her was what rendered Megan speechless. He had the look of a Greek statue and the countenance of one as well. The man was at least 6’4” tall and probably 300 pounds of ripped beef, muscles on top of muscles. Thick thighs, huge pecs, massive calves and biceps. He followed Lisa into the room. Megan was struck all at once at how enormous a man he was. He nearly had to duck under the door frame just to get into the room. His tee-shirt was climbing to the rippling muscles of his upper body like a second skin. Below, he was wearing a pair of skin-tight jeans that hugged his powerful glutes and thighs like a second skin, a massive tube-shaped bulge extending down one thigh. Standing tall, her head only came up to his chest. "Megan! I'm so sorry about Ryan!" Lisa exclaimed, kissing her and wrapping her up in a tight embrace. Whispering in her ear, she said, "I brought someone for you to meet." She let Megan go and stepped back to the man, wrapping an arm around his. "This is Aaron, my new man. Aaron, meet Megan." "Pleasure," the man's voice was deep and soothing. Megan swooned has he extended his hand. "I explained your situation and I thought maybe my boyfriend could help you out." Lisa said with a smile. "You mean..." Megan trailed off, taken aback. She thought Lisa was gonna bring over some porn and maybe a strapon, not another guy! “It's okay babe, we're both good with it! This is awkward, I know- but I'm happy to share!" Lisa's enthusiasm was surprising. “Well,” Megan said. She nibbled her bottom lip as she looked at his crotch. She could see a big, folded length of meat inside his jeans. "Holy shit," she thought to herself, "that can't be real!" She took a deep breath and spoke. “My ex-boyfriend, he’s… the worst. He’s been tormenting me for months.” “He’s harrassing you, huh?” Aaron offered, shaking his head. “Asshole.” “He’s… a lot worse than that, even,” Megan agreed. She clenched her hands and blurted, “I want you to fuck me. I won’t lie - this is kinda just… something I need. To deal with him. So, if you’re okay with that… we’re good.” Aaron looked at his girlfriend and they nodded at each other. “We're good.” he said. “No hangups, no misunderstandings. Whatever you need.” "Yay!" Lisa exclaimed. "I knew you guys would get along." She grabbed both of their hands and led the three of them to Megan's bed. Aaron sat down on the edge, Megan and Lisa on either side of him, their faces were in identical expressions of anticipation. They ran their hands over his tee-shirt, feeling the rack of powerful muscles beneath, making low moaning noises as they felt his physique. Aaron pulled Lisa's head in and extended his tongue; his beautiful girlfriend started to suck it without a second thought, taking it into her mouth, letting Aaron explore her as her lips mashed against his. Then, he repeated the act with Megan, letting her fellate his tongue and make out deeply with him, filling the room with the sounds of her smacking, wet lips. Aaron went back and forth between the two as they stroked and squeezed his cock; when they weren’t sucking on his tongue, they kissed and worshiped his neck. Eventually he stripped off his tee-shirt and tossed it aside, revealing his powerfully-muscled chest. The women followed suit, removing their tops and exposing their ample endowments to him. He took what he wanted - squeezing, pinching, and sucking at their tits as much as he liked, making them squirm with pleasure… and all the while, they never stopped rubbing his crotch. “Take it out,” he ordered. Lisa smiled and guided Megan’s hand to his waistband. They started to slowly side it down together. Megan’s eyes went wide as they tugged and inch after inch of arm-thick shaft emerged. So many, so virile. They could smell his maleness, it seemed to radiate out from his cock in a dizzying wave. “Oh my fuckin’ gawd!” Megan gasped. “It’s so big!” she whispered. “It’s… bigger than anything I’ve ever imagined!” His shaft was so massive and thick, she could barely get two hands around it, let alone one. And no matter how much she pulled on the elastic waistband of his sweats, more seemed to emerge. “Goddamn… how much bigger?” Megan moaned. Her eyes were fixated on the enormous, vein-choked shaft. Aaron and Lisa laughed at Megan’s cock shock. They finally pulled down far enough to bring the whole hardening shaft up and into the light. It sprang out with virile force, bouncing upward. Aaron grunted with relief as his meat hit the open air and bobbed between the two beauties. It was gargantuan in size, sixteen inches long with a thick shaft, and an aesthetically perfect, bulging glans. “What do you think?” Aaron asked. He had a confident twinkle in his eye. “It’s so fuckin’ big,” Megan gasped. "Ooh yeah, you're gonna fucking love it!" laughed Lisa. Turning to Aaron, she said, "And this girl right here is about to become your new little slut. I've been waiting to find another whore for you babe." Aaron moved his dick toward Megan’s mouth, and she uttered a gasp before pressing her lips up against the glans, pursing her lips, rubbing them all over that knob, smearing his pre-cum all over. Lisa gave an envious coo and her hand slid between her legs. Her fingers began to work, rubbing her clit, as Aaron's hand reached out and took hold of her head. “Get down there, babe,” he ordered. “Suck my balls. Get a load ready for her.” Lisa arched her back and thrust her round, full ass up into the air, spreading her knees, ducking her head down and extending her tongue to lick Aaron's heavy nutsack. She began to run her lips over his left testicle at the same time Megan sealed her lips around Aaron's knob and darted her tongue into his pisshole. "Wait," Megan said, taking a breath. Aaron and Lisa looked at her quizzically. Megan smiled wickedly. “Let’s film this,” she purred. “Let’s really go wild.” "Anything for you baby," Aaron said with a smile. Lisa laughed and grabbed Megan's phone from the nightstand. She framed her face in the recording and Megan looked up at her while stroking Aaron's cock just inches from her face. “Hello, Ryan,” she said, and the contempt in her voice was clear. “Since you’re not man enough to fulfill my needs in any way, I’ve got a new guy here who wants to help me out!” She purred and smeared her lips on Aaron's cocktip. “Fuck! It was always so easy to fit your tiny dick in my mouth, Ryan - even when you begged me pathetically for oral sex, I didn’t mind because I could swallow your whole cock and barely feel a thing!” She leaned over and licked around the tip of Aaron's monstrously fat cock, then nuzzled her cheek against it and let it flop on her face, the shaft running from chin to hairline, moaning a hot breath into the underside. “Look how amazing this cock is… it make you look like such a little bitch.” "You like this meat, girl?" Aaron asked Megan in his deep voice. "You wanna become my cock slut too?" "Yes, please," Megan replied slapping the full weight of the cock on her tongue and staring deeply, submissively, into his eyes. He had her completely. He lifted Megan from the bed effortlessly. His strong arms easily held in the air for a minute, as he moved her body up and down his 16" shaft. Megan shuddered in pleasure and excitement. After he firmly placed her on her knees, she slowly began to stretch her lips around the massive cock. She looked directly at the phone and moaned. She slowly pulled her mouth off his soaking wet cock. "I want this fucking dick, bitch, and there's nothing you can do to stop me," she said rubbing his long shaft. "I'm his little slut now." "You got a nice girl here. And man, does she love to slurp all up on my dick," Aaron laughed, joining in. Lisa laughed, forcing Aaron's cock back into Megan's mouth. "That's right you little slut," Lisa said, "He's your master now." Megan began to suck Aaron's massive cock again, with her eyes wide open in disbelief. She could hardly believe that she was sucking on that monster cock. Deep guttural moans emanated from her throat. Lisa grabbed Megan's head and forced it down the massive shaft. Another inch slid in her throat. Megan's spit began to stream down to his balls. Then Megan began to gag and choke. Lisa pulled her off Aaron's dick as she coughed up huge amounts of saliva. Megan stammered, with eyes watering, "God your cock is so big! I can barely fit it down my—" She was cut off as Lisa slammed her head back onto Aaron's dick. Megan soon got the picture and began for face-fuck herself. Each time she smashed Aaron's dick into the back her throat she let out a deep, but brief gasping moan. "Damn, look at her go!" Lisa cheered. "She loves this shit." Lisa grabbed the base of the shaft and held it still as Megan thrust her mouth all over it. "Oh fuck, please let me have that dick, master," Megan whimpered submissively. "I've been a good slut...sucking your beautiful cock. Please sir!" "Not yet slut, you gotta show me how much you want this dick, you hear me," he replied. "Mm-hmm," she said, her mouth already jammed down his shaft. Lisa reached down and began rubbing Megan's pussy, bringing on a violent orgasm. As she came, she pulled her mouth away, screaming in pleasure. Lisa grabbed his dick and began forcing it back in Megan's open mouth. For more than ten minutes this went on. At times, Aaron would thrust his cock into her mouth, forcing it deeper and causing her to gag even more. Megan began letting out low guttural moaning noises. She was climaxing in waves while she slurped on Aaron's dick. Lisa began stroking his dick when ever he pulled it out. Lisa and Aaron continued to talk dirty to Megan, calling her a "stupid whore" and a "dirty cock slut." "Suck that cock you little slut," said Lisa as she slapped Megan's ass. "This is what you wanted, bitch? A big fat cock to gag on." "Mm-hmm," she moaned, his cock deep in throat. Behind the camera, Lisa couldn't help her horniness. She fingered herself as she watched her man face fuck her friend. She passed the phone to Aaron and sat on the floor behind Megan, legs spread wide. The video framed the two of them perfectly. She was screaming out obscenities as the fingered herself. "Cum for us babe, paint us with your fucking load. I can't wait for you to pulverize this whore with that massive cock! Ruin her for anyone else. We're both yours baby! Imagine fucking the two of us every day and every night while her dumb ex watches." She screamed out, lost in her own daydream. Aaron grabbed Megan by her hair and began humping his hips. He forced his bulbous head in and out. He began to hump her mouth more rapidly. Finally he let go. Megan moaned as she felt a hot blast emptying straight into her stomach unimpeded. Then cum squirted past her lips in every direction. Aaron pulled her off his cock with a loud "Pop". Megan saw the thick head expand before spraying load after huge load of thick, sticky cum all over her cheeks, nose, eye, forehead, chin, lips, and even one thick glob into her dark hair. Several thick ribbons shot straight into her mouth, coating her tongue in his pearly seed, before Aaron aimed his cock at her chest and pumped three huge ropes of cum onto Megan's heaving naked tits, one of which slowly oozed down over her erect nipples before immediately shoving his cock towards her open mouth. Megan clamped her lips around his thick shaft as she grabbed Aaron's dick and eagerly began jacking his cock into her mouth. She groaned appreciatively as she slowly bobbed her head up and down the first few inches of Aaron's hard cock, sucking his cum from his dick as Aaron began to pump even more thick seed into her mouth. "Mmmmmph!" Megan moaned around Aaron's thick cock with as much enjoyment as Aaron was obviously having watching her swallow his heavy load, as blast after huge thick blast pumped hotly into her mouth. Megan felt a bolt of horniness rush through her as she watched Aaron film her as she enthusiastically swallowed every drop that he gave her. However as she felt his hips jerk, which erotically pumped his thick cock between her lips, Megan knew that Lisa's boyfriend had finally finished cumming. And so, staring deep into his eyes she stopped swallowing and parted her lips in a seductive smile, then, leaning her head back a little so that only the first two inches of Aaron's big dick remained between her soft lips, the head resting tantalizingly on her tongue, Megan smiled for the camera as three final huge spurts of his cum pumped thickly across her tongue and into her waiting mouth before his cock finally stopped erupting. "Mmm! I fucking love your cum," she said staring into Aaron's eyes. "It tastes so good! Way better than that pindicked loser." "Holy shit baby," Lisa said to Aaron. "You're so fucking incredible." She wrapped herself around Megan and licked her boyfriend's cum off of her tits. "Do you always cum that much?" Megan asked with a smile. Aaron just smiled in response, stroking his still hard beast at the sight of the two cum-covered beauties at his feet. "That's nothing, he usually cums twice as much when he fucks me than when I blow him." Lisa said proudly and Megan's eyes widened in amazement, "So just think how much cum he's gonna pump into you now." "Oh fuck," Megan cried out, feeling her pussy squirt at the thought. "Give me that big dick! Please, I fucking love it, master." Aaron laughed and handed the phone to Lisa. He pulled Megan up onto the bed, positioning her above his cock with ease. Megan's breath caught in her throat as she felt the knob against her entrance. It felt so impossibly huge, she could hardly imagine it being able to fit into her. But as much as she feared the pain, her desire to experience the immense pleasure drove her on. She looked down, casting her gaze through the valley between her big tits, and saw the ungodly monster poised to spear into her. But the view was suddenly cut off by a curtain of black hair. Following it, Lisa's familiar face hovered over her own head, a warm smile on her features as she looked into her friend's eyes. “Don't worry. Just relax.” she whispered softly, soothingly, as she pressed her lips to Megan's, the two girls tenderly kissing. When the two pulled apart, Megan looked Aaron in the eyes as she began to speak. “Do it. I need you to take me, to fill me, to stuff that giant fucking monster cock into me. I need you. Nothing else will be able to satisfy me after watching that. I need you to stretch me, ruin me, wreck my naughty little pussy until I can never feel a lesser man inside me ever again! Reshape me into your personal fucktoy, make me your private slut! I need it! I need you! I need to be yours!” She moaned out, her plea growing in intensity as she continued to speak. Aaron began to slide his massive shaft into her tight pussy. It was so wet and worked in with surprising ease. Aaron took his time working his many inches into her. With each inch that disappeared in her Megan let out a loud moan. Finally, he lifted her up almost all the way off and dropped Megan onto his huge dick, catching her as her pussy slapped on his balls. “Oooh, god, it's so fucking big. So thick, so long... Ohh, it's as deep as I've even felt it, but so fucking THICK! Ohh, it hurts, but I love it, I love how it stretches me...” Megan screamed on the top her lungs. Aaron corkscrewed Megan around his massive cock so she was facing Lisa and Megan's phone. Lisa centered the video on Megan's bouncing torso, Aaron's muscular arms flexing as they began to pump her up and down his rod like a fleshlight. Megan fondled her boobs as she rode Aaron, squeezing her nipples as she moaned in pleasure. The outline of Aaron's cock stretched Megan's toned belly, all the way from her pussy to her sternum. She laid back against Aaron and began to ride him, slamming herself up and down. “God, your cock... it's the biggest! The fattest! The longest! The hardest! It's the best cock! The perfect cock!” She was screaming out her praise by the end, her hips rolling down onto his fat shaft. After ten minutes of riding, Megan began to struggle, her energy sapped by the intensity of the sensations she was feeling. Sensing this, Aaron stood up, Megan firmly impaled on his rod, and laid her onto the bed. Lisa gripped Megan's legs and held her wide opened as Aaron began to smash his huge dick in and out of Megan's soaking wet pussy as hard as he could. Megan writhed in shock, orgasming violently once again. “You like that, slut? Like it when I stuff your fucking womb?” He growled, once more grinding his hips forward. Megan's mouth opened immediately, the words pouring forth with hardly a thought. “YEEESSS! Oh, god, yes! It feels so fucking good! I'm so full of your cock! The best cock! The perfect cock! The perfect MAN! Ohhh, fuck me, fuck every inch of me, fuck me like nobody else ever can! I'm a slut for your cock, your personal slut! You made me your slut, made me a slave to your cock! I'll never fuck anyone else! I'd never be able to fucking feel them! Your perfect cock spoiled me! Ohh, nothing can compare! Nothing goes so deep, stretches me so wide, feels so hot! FUCK ME WITH YOUR PERFECT COCK!” she screamed out. "Yeah Aaron, destroy this slut, pulverize her pussy, Megan doesn't my boyfriend have the best monster cock in the world? " Lisa said leaning down and sucking on Megan's tits as they both kneaded the incredibly soft flesh. "Oh my god, So much cock! This is insane I've never felt so stuffed!" Megan wailed. Megan writhed and squirmed as Aaron picked up the pace working his giant cock faster and harder, bottoming out in the overstimulated beauty. Megan started to cream all over the bottom third of the cock. She threw her head back as she came all over the giant beast pulverizing her. "Oh god baby you're going to break me....! Oh fuck yes fuck yes fuck yea....! I'm yours! Break me! Oh god damn fuck that pussy...! Don't stop...!" Aaron let out a long, low groan as his massive balls began to tighten. “Oh, Megan, here it comes, I’m cumming, god, take it all!” His shaft jerked once, twice inside her, then the third time it fired. A blast of molten manhood, hot and thick, flooded her. Each blast struck the back of her womb like a fire hose and she was speechless to the intense pleasure that rocked her mind. She clung to him, every muscle tight as she rode the waves of pleasuring echoing out from her rapidly-filling womb. Her clenching hole gripped so tight, and his monster was just so big, that not a drop could escape around it‘s enormous girth. Each new shot stuffed her womb beyond capacity until it began to stretch and bulge, her smooth, flat belly swelling out until finally his climax was over. When he was finished she collapsed back to the bed beneath him, panting heavily, her body coated in a glistening sheen of sweat. Her breasts heaved with her heavy breathing, wobbling softly at each end of their movements. Aaron lifted himself up, kneeling now, their bodies still intimately connected at the hips. His own body glistened with sweat as well, a shimmering coat that made his every rippling muscle pop out. "He's your master now too babe, your pussy will never feel Ryan's little bitch cock again. You look so fucking hot taking that big monster cock up your tight little pussy!" Lisa moaned as she came from watching her boyfriend breed her friend. "Ready for more?" Aaron growled. Megan's eyes widened as she felt Aaron flex his still hard beast inside her. She opened her mouth to respond but could only moan as Aaron began to pull back and slammed forward again. His blunt monster pounded into her, drawing a scream of pain and lust. Again he drew back, and again he drove forward. Again and again, faster and faster. Soon his massive monster jack-hammered her, his hips a blur as he used long, swift strokes. "OH MY GOD!!!" she moaned as she looked at the massive cock that was now rocketing in and out of her gushing pussy and back to her phone, which Lisa helpfully held above her face. "Ryan, I cant believe you two are the same species." Megan moaned creaming again on the shaft as her orgasm rolled through her. "I can't resist your giant monster cock, I want you to fuck me all day every day for the rest of my life, I want to be your little fuck toy, My body is yours whenever you want to destroy me, I will literally drop whatever I'm doing whenever you want to fuck my brains out, I'm your sex slave," Megan wailed as she felt wave after wave of pleasure course through her. Her words were nearly enough to set Aaron's geyser off a third time that night, but when her pussy gripped his massive cock as she once again reached the pinnacle of pleasure, that was when it was too much to take. “Fuck, bitch, I’M CUMMING!” He roared, slamming his hips into her hard, his hands grinding their bodies together as his massive shaft throbbed and pulsed once again. Each new shot blasted into her already stuffed womb. "Spluuurrrrggt!" Lisa brought the phone close to Megan's pussy so Ryan could hear Aaron dump his load inside. A whimpering moan escaped her as his seed began to overflow her womb, forcing its way out around his monster, down through her spasming cunt and out around the base of his mighty shaft in thick rivers of white man-cream. For a moment, Megan was held in limbo - back arched, arms limp, breasts, quivering in gravity-defying perfection. She stayed in this position, cumming and groaning and gasping, for what seemed like eternity - until Aaron forcibly yanked his cock out of her. “Fuuuuuuck!” Aaron moaned. His long, fat cock slid out of Megan’s pussy with a loud pop, and a waterfall of semen poured out over the bed. No sooner had he extracted himself before the gigantic monster cock let go once again. Aaron pumped his meat as hard as he could, pointing it right at Megan's face. Lisa moaned and wrapped her body around Aaron's torso, her tits crushed against his back as she humped his muscled form. The huge streams of cum drenched Megan, burtying her in white. Each rope led seamlessly into the next volcanic eruption. Megan gasped behind closed eyes as the liquid coated her. Lisa jerked through every buck of his hips and throb of his cock, her hands joining Aaron's around his bucking dick. Even with four hands, they barely managed to cover half the length. Finally the pulses slowed and then stopped. Lisa pulled his cock up between her tits and in front of her face. She went cross eyes looking at the thick fat cock meat in front of her face and squeezed it between her big tits. Megan made a cooing noise as she wiped the cum from her eyes and rubbed the mess into her skin, making it glisten. Megan smiled and brought her hands to her belly. Her pussy was throbbing and her throat and jaw were aching. Looking around, she found the phone - it was still recording. She brought it to her face and blew the camera a cum-covered kiss. “How do you like that?” she taunted, then lowered the camera so it would have a good view of her pussy. She was stretched and gaping; with a huge creampie leaking out to soak the sheets. She propped herself up on her elbows and poised the camera against a pillow, filming her belly and her creampied, throbbing pussy mound. “You’d never even touch the sides, Ryan,” she purred. “You couldn’t get the job done so I had to find a real man to blow my back out and stir up my guts! He fucking owns me in a way you never could!” She gasped with pleasure at the freedom, the feeling of being able to say whatever she wanted to Ryan, after all his mistreatment and teasing. She shut off the recording. Everything was silent for a moment, and then everyone seemed to exhale. Aaron and Lisa fell to the bed beside her, all three of them glistening with sweat and cum. * To be continued *
  2. Buenas, para los que no le conocen, ya llevo un rato en esta comunidad, trate de publicar antes pero no podía seguir con esa historia, pero quería contar más, dejaré aparte la primera historia que hice, quizás después de la retome, quizás no . Otra cosa que aclarar es que, está historia va a tomar en cuenta que quieren que pase en el siguiente capítulo, elegirán alguna de lss ideas que propongan y también pueden comentar algunas que les gustaría ver. Está historia está totalmente en español, si alguien quiere traducirla puede hacerlo. Capítulo 1 tesoros del ayer. Mi nombre es Michel, tengo 19 años, soy un estudiante universitario de intercambio del otro lado del país, vivo en un departamento con mi roomy Carl, ambos vamos a la misma universidad pero diferentes carreras, el va a medicina y yo voy a nutricionista, amo los deportes y el cuidado del cuerpo, aunque no es que haya logrado destacar del todo en alguno, más bien era de la gestión de tiempos y estrategias, así que quería llegar a ser entrenador, ¿Cuál deporte? Uno de boxeo, mi abuelo era antes un luchador, y en casa siempre había recortes de periódico y algunos trofeos de su carrera como luchador, una parte de mi quería llegar a ser como él, yo estando en el ring pero mi madre nunca me lo perdonaría, aunque eso nunca me impidió intentarlo alguna que otra vez a escondidas. Cuándo me da tiempo la universidad, voy al gimnasio de mi localidad, uno de los más viejos y reconocidos de la ciudad, Empire of steel (el imperio de acero). Muchas leyendas se forjaron ahí dentro, o eso dice su folleto de entrada, la verdad es que el lugar se siente viejo, atrapado en la década de los años 90 pero está en buenas condiciones. No llevo tanto en el gym, apenas voy para mí segundo mes aquí, así que no es que tenga la mejor condición, soy peso ligero aún, pero al menos puedo presumir que tengo el estómago marcado. Mis estadísticas hijo: Altura: 1,75 m (5,7 pies) Peso: 70 kg (154 libras) Masa corporal grasa: 10% Tez: delgada No era nada sorprendente, mi metabolismo es muy rápido así que me cuesta subir peso, aunque estoy aprendiendo a como subirlo con mis clases, quiero estar totalmente seguro en lo que estoy haciendo antes de meterme a una dieta y arruinar mi progreso sin querer. E tratado de hacer que Carl se una al gym, no para que se vea espectacular sino que se cuide, él es un genio pero con malos hábitos y lo sabe, es un poco más alto que yo y aunque no come mucha comida chatarra es muy sedentario así que tiene grasa acumulada. Pero aún así si tengo a alguien que me acompañe en el gym, es mi guía aquí desde que me uní, David, o como es conocido, el joven Hércules, un tipo bastante guapo, de buena mandíbula con barba corta, unos hermosos ojos verdes y su cabello castaño en punta, tiene mi misma edad pero es mucho más grande que yo, no solo con su altura de 1.85 m (6.1 ft) sino también de peso, él ya es semi pesado y cerca de llegar al pesado, con unos buenos 85 kilos (187 libras) de músculo, también quizás algo de grasa,no tiene los abdominales tan marcados pero no puedes discutir con sus brazos que parece que tiene una pelota debajo de su piel, venas gruesas que registran todo su brazo hasta los dedos de las manos, un gran pecho amplio el cual se nota que se depila seguido para que se aprecie las fibras musculares cuando levante la barra de 118 kilos (260 libras) su era lo más increíble que tiene, podría cargarme con facilidad si él lo quisiera, y hacer peso muerto conmigo; él también trabaja las piernas, siempre usando shorts cortos para mostrar sus piernas gruesas tan anchas y bastante bien marcadas que me recordaba a un tronco de un árbol mediano, fuerte y que solo crecerá para ser más grande e imponente, eso era lo que se esperaba de David, que llegó a ser un culturista de renombre pero él no está tan interesado,más bien lo atribuye más a algo genético para estar así que realmente esforzarse. Lo envidio y admiro en secreto. Pero basta de él, debo concentrarme en mi rutina la cuál era el pecho el día de hoy, estaba levantando unos 59 kg (130 lb) no era mucho pero era un progreso bastante bueno, antes y ni podía levantar la barra, si que estoy feliz por ello. Mientras iba terminando con algo de cardio en la máquina de correr, siempre me preguntaba, qué personas habrán recorrido estos pasillos, correr sobre estás máquinas, levantar los pesos más pesados, y llevar en alto el nombre del gimnasio que los llevaron hasta su máximo potencial ; claro que estaban colgadas las fotos de esas leyendas en el mural de la fama al entrar al gimnasio, pero a lo que me refiero es a sus historias, que tanto trabajo les tomó llegar hasta la cima. De cualquier modo estaba internet para ello y ya también era hora de irme,eran las 9 de la noche y tenía que dormir temprano para los exámenes de mañana, fui a las regaderas y estuve ahí un poco más de lo normal, tenía asuntos pendientes ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde, cuerpos esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se pueda tocar y llevar a casa. Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello.tenía asuntos ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde cuerpos, esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se puede tocar y llevar a casa. Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello. tenía asuntos ahí abajo después de ver cuerpos tan trabajados casi toda la tarde cuerpos, esculpidos en mármol por Miguel Ángel, un arte viviente creciente y con lo mejor de todo, que se puede tocar y llevar a casa.Una vez liberado de ese deseo, salí y me vestí con el cambio de mi casillero número 22, podría decir que ésto era de lo más antiguo del local, los casilleros, estaban ya bastante desgastados, les faltaban algo de pintura y algunas partes estaban oxidadas , varios clientes se quejaron y quisieron cambiarlos pero el antiguo dueño siempre tenía excusas para no mover ni un dedo por ello. — ¡Oye, Michel! ¿Qué haces aquí tan tarde todavía? — Dijo David semi desnudo, apenas con una toalla en la cintura y acercándose a mí, había olvidado que su casillero está cerca del mío, el número 47. — Oh… hola, David, yo sólo… quería esforzarme más este día, ya sabes, poder conocer mis límites y expandirlos, como tú siempre dices. — le contesté con algo de vergüenza en el tono aunque seguía teniendome como si no me importara. — Pero bueno, mira que tenemos aquí, ¡un futuro luchador que quiere llegar lejos! Eso campeón, da tu mejor esfuerzo. — me toma del cuello con su brazo para poder despeinar mi cabello aún mojado. Él siempre es así, bastante amigable, activo y que no conoce el espacio personal, aunque no me importaba mucho estar tan cerca de él. — ¡Oye, basta! Ya me había peinado. —me quejé aunque riendo un poco, disfrutó realmente de su compañía, como el hermano mayor que nunca tuve. — Solo me alegra que estés dando lo mejor de ti mismo. Recuerdo que cuando llegaste eras un insecto palo andante, ahora ya se puede ver carne debajo de esa piel. — Me suelta y prosigue con lo suyo, abriendo su casillero y comenzando con su desodorante de menta y romero, típico de él, casi que ya son olores característicos de David. Mientras tanto voy dando unos tacos de ojo de vez en cuando, para ver cómo es que luchar para ponerse su playera blanca intencionalmente de una talla más pequeña de la que debería de llevar. — Oye, ¿quieres que te ayude? Parece que ahora sí vas a tener que cambiar tu armario por unas tallas más grandes. — Naaa, yo puedo, quiero llegar al punto dónde se desgarre con solo hacer flexiones, quizás una semana más y no tendré cambio para salir del gimnasio decentemente. Me sonrojé con el pensamiento de solo imaginar esa escena de verlo aún más grande y notar como su ropa se va desgarrando frente a mí. Por suerte él parecía tener prisa, se vistió rápido y se despidió de mí a su manera, un choque de puños y un abrazo fuerte para presumir fuerza, aunque… solo conmigo hace eso. Ya casi terminaba con mis cosas, solo faltaba luchar con el casillero para que cerrase, de que no te iban a poder robar nada podía casi confirmar eso, algunass estaban ya oxidadas o algunas llaves perdidas, ese era el caso incluso del casillero de al lado , el casillero 23. Ese casillero no se a abierto en años, según las leyendas y rumores del gym, le pertenecía a un culturista de principios de los 2000, Amari Stone, un culturista que estuvo a punto de ganar el Mr Olympia dos veces , y en las dos quedando en segundo lugar, era un hombre con casi el doble de ancho de una persona, pesando el triple y aunque no era tan alto, definitivamente tampoco era bajo, medía 1,82 m (6 ft). Su carrera parecía que iba por gran camino, pero a sus 37 años tuvo problemas cardíacos por un soplo en el corazón no diagnosticado.Y murio a sus 38, Iba saliendo del local, pasando por el muro de la fama, de los que llegaron a llevar en grande el nombre del gym, y ahí estaba la foto del legendario Amari Stone, compitiendo en el Mr Olympia del 2002. Me acerqué para verlo mejor en la foto, aunque no sabía bien sus estadísticas, diría que fácilmente pesaba 130 kg (287 lb) estaba claramente definida, sus músculos eran grandes si, pero en buena proporción, aunque a él siempre le gustaba resaltar pecho y brazos, además de sus piernas . Muy parecido a David… en ese sentido, quizás si él se interesará llegaría tan lejos como Amari. Toque un poco la foto, recordando los dedos por el cuerpo de Amari, imaginando cómo se sentiría un cuerpo así de trabajado. Y cuando ya iba a irme, que escucho que algo se cae y se rompe, temía lo peor, me giré y ahí en el suelo estaba el marco de fotos roto. Trate de rápido recoger los fragmentos de vidrio y la foto antes de que viniera el hijo del dueño, aunque no era severo como su padre, tampoco es que me llevara muy bien con él, era un idiota que abusaba de esteroides y acosaba algunas chicas, por suerte ahora mismo quizás y está en privado con una en el baño.Así que solo iba a poner la foto en el escritorio y tirar el marco, pero entre los trozos de vidrio y la foto, estaba un pedazo de metal que no correspondía con el marco de fotos, lo tome con cuidado y al levantarlo ví que era una llave con el número 23 en ella, no lo pensé mucho, ------------------------------------- ¿Qué les gustaría que haya en el casillero número 23? -Esteroides especiales. -Algo para pedir deseos. -Algo para robar músculos. -Ropa usada. Los leo quiero que sea una historia larga y con la participación de la gente.
  3. NewGuy71

    Potential (Re-Posted)

    Apparently, this got deleted in the forum transfer, so I'm re-posting it. Enjoy! Potential You stomped out of your 10-year high school reunion furiously. Things never change. No matter how much time passed, Brett Davidson, Kyle Jackson, and Greg McKenzie would never grow up. They would always be the nasty bullies they were as children. Even as they approached their 30s, they were still rude, abrasive, and frankly disgusting to be around. "Hey! W-wait up, Matt!" a deep voice called from behind. You turned to see Ted Williams jogging up to you. Your grimace softened as he approached. Ted was friends with Brett and the others, but he was always nice to you growing up. You didn't understand how such a nice guy could be friends with such jerks, but they were all jocks in high school, after all. Ted stopped at your side and smiled down at you warmly. "Hey... I'm glad I caught you before you left, man. You alright?" He asked. Your lips curled upward into an almost shy smile. "I'm fine." You replied. "I mostly just wanted some space for now." He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. You almost chuckled. For such a big guy, he was always so unsure about himself. "Look..." he began cautiously, "I just wanted to apologize for what the guys did-" "Save it." you cut him off, your smile fading. "We're not children anymore, Ted. You can't keep apologizing for your friends' terrible behavior forever." You waved at him dismissively as you turned away. Ted's face fell slightly. "Well, that's true," he said quietly. "I'm sorry." You sighed, the anger leaving you quickly. You looked back and gave him a wry grin. "It's not your fault. Like I said, you have nothing to apologize for." The handsome blond nodded. "It's just... it was nice seeing you again, Matt." he admitted. "We haven't really talked since high school." "Yeah? Well... maybe another time." you said, "I'm not in much of a mood for conversation right now. I just want to go home." Ted's eyebrows furrowed and he looked like he was going to say something else, then finally decided against it. "Alright then. Good night, Matt." he said with a wave goodbye. You walked away quickly, not seeing the sad, yearning look Ted gave you as you left. *** You tucked your hands into your jacket as you walked home. Honestly? You wanted to stay longer and catch up with Ted... but you knew it wouldn't matter. Ted would always choose his friends over you. You were too different. Ted was big and brawny... and far too handsome. And you? You were a skinny gamer geek that only weighed a hundred pounds wet. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that guys like Brett and Kyle and Greg had all the advantages in life. Big, strong, masculine, confident... and what did they do with it all? Push people around, mock others, bully everyone who dared stand up to them. Assholes like them didn't deserve the gifts they had been blessed with... "I wish..." you muttered under your breath, "I wish that I could change things. I wish I could make things different." Suddenly, you heard a strange, metallic ping echo through the air, and the world seemed to swirl and distort around you. You looked around in surprise and fear, with a cry of, "W-what the-?!" A wave of dizziness hit you. You stumbled, closing your eyes as you winced in pain. Then... the pain vanished. You opened your eyes and stared around in shock. Just moments ago, you were walking home in the dead of winter. Yet now... it looked to be about mid-summer! The hot sun blazed overhead. The trees were green and the flowers in full bloom. What the hell was going on? "S-stop it!" You heard a distant, high-pitched whine from behind you. You turned around, only for your eyes to grow even wider. In front of you was a scene that had been etched in your memory...only now you were seeing it from a very different point of view. There... just a few dozen yards away... was you. Or rather, your younger self... surrounded by equally young versions of Brett, Kyle, and Greg. This was when you had first met the boys, and when they decided you'd make a great punching bag. Your younger self, barely even 10 years old, sobbed from his seat on the dirty ground. A smug Brett stood over him, cracking his knuckles menacingly. You narrowed your eyes at the scene and moved to intervene, when suddenly... everything seemed to... stop. The world fell silent around you, and you paused in trepidation. 'Make things right.' You jolted at the words. They seemed to come from everywhere at once. Turning back to the frozen scene before you, your eyes widened at what you saw. Blue light shimmered at the core of each boy. Potential. Pure, masculine Potential. The very essence of manhood that would allow Brett, Kyle, and Greg to grow into the big, strong men they were as adults. It glowed brightly in each of their younger selves. Turning your gaze to your own past self, you noted that your own Potential was much, much dimmer. If Brett's Potential was a wildfire, yours was a tiny candle sputtering in the wind. It wasn't fair... you had to change it! Not fully understanding what you were doing, you held out a hand, palm up. Even as time was stopped, a howling wind seemed to blow, drawing sparks of the bullies' Potential out of their bodies. Their essences swirled around you before coalescing in your hand. When the wind finally died down, you held what looked like a tiny blue sun. The combined masculine Potential of three men. You glanced back at Brett and the others and saw that their cores were now faint and dim, much like yours. You knew they would never be able to grow up into the hunks they were meant to be. Turning back to your younger self, you thought, 'What if... what if I gave this Potential to my younger self...?' The idea made sense. After all, if you could take Potential away, surely you could give it to someone else. You could save yourself the heartache of watching them become the assholes you knew they were destined to be and change your own fate in one fell swoop. So, you did. You gently pushed the tiny blue sphere towards your childhood self. It floated gently, almost lazily, until it touched his skin and sank into his body. His core of Potential flared to life. Brilliant, blinding... like a dying star that had been reignited. And then... everything started shifting again. Another wave of dizziness struck you, and everything faded to black. *** You blinked as a cold wind buffered your face. You jolted awake and looked around you. You were back! Back in your time! But you felt... strange... different. Your usually baggy clothes felt oddly tight on you, especially around your arms and chest. You looked down and gasped in awe. Huge, muscular pecs pushed out the front of your shirt! You reached up and patted your chest in disbelief. "Is this... is this for real?" you asked aloud and paused. Your voice was different! Much, much deeper. You cleared your throat and tried to speak again, your voice coming out as a low, rumbling bass. "Wha... what the fuck?" you breathed. You looked down at your hands... they were huge! And your forearms... your biceps... they bulged obscenely! You couldn't stop staring at them. You flexed your muscles experimentally, trying a few poses that seemed to just come to you. Your jaw dropped open in wonder. "I... I'm... huge!" You exclaimed. You glanced up and realized that everything looked strangely smaller. Were you... taller? You looked for something to compare yourself to, trying to gauge how tall you actually were. You looked at a nearby street sign with a growing smile. "Holy shit... I think I'm over six feet tall." You murmured, "I'm... six..." A sudden pain lanced through your head, and you pressed a hand to your forehead with a groan of pain. Flashes of memory flickered before your closed eyes. You remembered growing up. Rapidly. By 8th grade, you were already 5'10"... and by the time you entered high school you were over six feet tall! And you packed on muscle with ease! You remember having to cut down on your workouts in high school so you wouldn't bulk up so much. Not every sport benefited from having over 200 pounds of muscle... Wait... sports? That's right! You were on the football, basketball, water polo, and wrestling teams, and even joined the weightlifting club! You chuckled at the memories. You’d been huge for teenager... so much bigger than everyone else. By senior year of high school, you were 6'7" and nearly 260 pounds of pure muscle, bigger than some pro bodybuilders! You could've played sports at any college you wanted to, but you chose to stay local. Why? So you could stay close to... Ted... your... boyfriend...? Your eyes opened wide in shock. "Ted is my boyfr-" You were interrupted by your cellphone ringing in your pocket. You fumbled with your phone for a bit before you opened it and saw Ted's name pop up on the screen. You smiled and answered it, "Hey, Ted!" You heard some muffled sounds and then a familiar, husky voice came across the line. "Matt? Babe? You headed back yet?" You smiled, a warmth pooling in your chest, and said, "Yeah, yeah. I just needed a bit of fresh air. I'm headed back now." "Oh, okay. Well... I'll see you soon. Love you," he said. Your heart fluttered at how natural that sounded. "Yeah. I'll see you in a bit. Love you too, Ted." you hung up, and put your phone away before making your way back to the reunion venue. It was strange. You had two sets of memories: one from your original timeline and one from this new timeline. In this timeline, you and Ted had come to your 10-year high school reunion together. You started dating in college and planned to get married next year. You smiled softly as you thought of your boyfriend. You remember helping him bulk up for football and cheering him on during tryouts back in high school. As a result, the Ted of this world was much happier and more confident, now that he wasn't under the shadow of his horrible friends. In fact, you weren't sure what had happened to Brett or the others. They avoided you once you started getting bigger and stronger than them, and none of them had come to the reunion either. You had to admit... this Ted was a lot better than your old, insecure Ted. A part of you would always miss the sad, puppy-like Ted from before... but you were happy with the confident and suave Ted you had now... especially considering how the man could deep-throat your massive... You stopped, mouth falling open. Without looking, you reached down and grabbed your crotch. Even soft, you could tell the dick in your pants would put any porn star to shame... and at this rate, it wouldn't be soft for much longer... "Fuck." you whispered with a moan. Was this the result of having the combined masculine Potential of three men? You grinned and stroked your cock, feeling your thick shaft throb and harden in your pants. Maybe you should take a detour into the woods before you head back...
  4. Monday June 1 I’d only been in this office job since March when the boss named me Employee of the Month. It was a sports betting company and the 30 or so employees were almost all straight men. Mr. Sartorius was a tall, handsome silver fox with a taste for well cut suits and a sexy Dutch accent that made me smile as I listened to him make the announcement at the monthly all-staff meeting. “…And Jeffrey’s selection is especially appropriate considering June is… Pride Month!” My smile froze into an embarrassed rictus. I hadn’t come out to anybody in the office. And I certainly hadn’t in the interview. An awkward silence came over the conference room where everyone was packed in standing room only. I looked out at the sea of faces, all masculine former jocks, and stretched my smile into what probably looked like a crazed serial killer grin. Mr Sartorius looked at me with such oblivious sincerity, then back out at the staff expectantly. Several people looked at their feet. Someone coughed. Then Banner, a young ex-soldier with arms like ham hocks, pumped his fist in the air. “Pride month!” he yelled. “HOOAH!” Mr Sartorius was super pleased at this and slapped me on the back with a hand the size of a shovel. I tried to mask my wince of pain. “FUCK YEAH Pride Month!!” Someone else boomed. The boss furrowed his brow and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Mr Sartorius didn’t like swears. “All right everyone. Back to work. You can all congratulate Jeffrey personally when you have the chance.” I shook his hand and thanked him before fleeing back to my desk. It felt like I had 30 pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head. I plopped down on my cubicle desk chair, relieved. Almost immediately, Banner filled my cubicle entrance. His bowling ball deltoids stretched the maroon fabric of his polo shirt as his jacked Army-honed physique made me throw major wood in my dress slacks. I’d never been this close to him before. He smelled crazy good, like Mennen Speed Stick and spearmint gum. “Jeffy,” he said, a nickname I hated but would let Banner call me forever. “Pride month. That’s the gay month, right?” I full-on blushed and stammered “Uh, uh, uh.” Oh my God. So hot. So dumb. I turned from him and wildly yanked on the sliding platform that allowed my keyboard to be tucked in just below the desk’s surface. It jammed with a squeak. “I got you, Jeffy, this used to be my cube. I know the trick.” Banner reached down between my legs and palmed the bottom of the platform. His cheek brushed mine and the feel of his stubble sent an electric shock straight to my cock. His thick, bare muscular arm stretched out in front of me and as I saw the tension in the tendons and muscles grow I could see clearly what was about to happen but I was a deer caught in the headlights. Banner pulled and his biceps exploded into a breath-taking rippling gourd of veiny power; his forearm then twisted and a second peak pushed out of the muscle like it was giving birth to a baby. I instantly came in my pants. He froze and looked down wide eyed at the wet spot and bulge in my crotch. “Jeffy,” was all he had time to say before suddenly Mr Sartorius was standing next to him. He stood up straight and actually saluted, his eyes practically popping out of his skull. “At ease, soldier,” he chuckled warmly. “I’m glad to see your enthusiasm for your co-worker, Banner, I hope you will encourage your colleagues to be similarly charitable this month.” Banner looked wildly about, confused. “Charitable, Mr S?” “Yes, charitable.” “Sir, yes, sir!” Banner huffed. “Good. Well, carry on.” Banner disappeared so fast he might have vapourized. I grinned stupidly up at the boss, my hands in my lap. He looked at me oddly and sniffed, then shook his head, the pleased smile returning. “So glad you are getting on well here, Jeffrey,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “We really appreciate you.” “Thank you sir,” I burbled, trying for the first time ever to NOT appreciate how nicely thick he was through the chest. Please go down, boner! He turned away and I finally managed to pull out my keyboard. I typed away for the painful last hour before quitting time. As I rushed out to leave, I saw Banner still moving from man to man, whispering in each colleagues’ ear as he alternately pointed at me, and at the boss’ office door. Oh shit. Cont.
  5. Hey everyone! This chapter gets DARKER and MORE EXPLICIT. All tags definitely observed and more. I appreciate the positive feedback! Thinking probably 2 more chapters after this to conclude the story. CHAPTER 6 Evan took care to clean up the alley as best as he could. Luckily, a major thunderstorm hit about 20 minutes into the clean up and finished the job naturally. Evan dashed inside and then turned around, watching Corey stand in the pouring rain, unmoving, getting his new clothes drenched. “Corey! Get inside!” Evan screamed. Corey took a few calm steps and walked back into the gym, dripping onto the carpet. Evan was overwhelmed with emotions. Some guilt, some disgust, some fear of repercussions, but mostly exhilaration, adrenaline, and unadulterated power. Corey was more than an infatuation, a lover, or a sex machine – he was now a full fledged immortal weapon. Evan looked Corey up and down. Did he have any of the old Corey left in him? Or was he entirely clay for Evan to mold. Evan drove Corey home and got comfortable in the living room. Now that he was feeling somewhat settled, he decided to figure out the extent of his new powers. “Corey, I want you to have free will and your original personality and memories with the addition of the memories of everything that’s happened the last few months.” Corey’s face hardened. He started breathing heavily and looking up and down at himself. Then he looked at Evan. Evan hadn’t seen that look in his eyes before, it was a mix of anger, disappointment, and…was that fear? Finally, he spoke: “Evan….please stop this.” “Stop what?” “You need help, something is so wrong with you, please let me be and go see a doctor or…” “Corey, stop talking.” Suddenly, sound stopped coming out of Corey’s mouth and he grabbed at his throat like he was trying to figure out how to use his vocal chords. Evan was very displeased. After all the sex and worship Evan had provided for months, and growing Corey into a muscle god, Corey was so ungrateful. Evan had wanted Corey to be his partner, his Bonnie to Evan’s Clyde, but it looked like Evan would have to continue being the only brain for the both of them. “Corey, besides normal bodily functions such as breathing, eating, and sleeping, you will only do what I say and think of nothing else.” Corey was immediately still and his eyes returned to their vacant and blank state. Evan had a few other tests in mind. “Corey, punch the wall as hard as you can.” Corey punched the wall and flinched only slightly as Evan heard a boom and a crack. There was a dent in the wall but Evan also noticed Corey’s hand was mangled and broken. He quickly asked Corey to heal his hand. “Corey, don’t get any bigger but adjust the density in your muscle so that you weigh 2,000 pounds.” Corey blinked but nothing looked different to Evan. He asked Corey to take a few steps and sure enough, the floor was creaking and shaking with every step. He asked Corey to stand on the scale and watched as the needle spun around 3 times before hearing a sickening crunch and snap as the scale broke. He “reset” Corey again. “Corey, I want you to float in the air.” Evan wasn’t sure how that was going to work. He watched as powerful hairy wings suddenly ripped out of Corey’s back and started flapping until Corey was hovering about 3ft above the ground. Of course….Evan had asked Corey’s body to always compensate and adjust to his needs so it must have rewritten his DNA to include wings. Evan couldn’t believe it. He had more experiments. “Corey, you can teleport anywhere you wish, meaning – if I ask you to rematerialize 100 miles away, you can immediately be there.” Of course, nothing happened. Evan had simply given Corey the power. He had to try it out….but he wasn’t about to send Corey 100 miles and then drive for 2 hours to retrieve him. “Corey, rematerialize in the kitchen.” And all of a sudden, Corey was just gone. As if he had always been a hallucination and Evan had finally woken up. He frantically ran to the kitchen and there Corey was, standing facing the refrigerator. Evan was waiting for him to do something else, but he was just standing there, awaiting next orders. Evan realized he had to give Corey another power in case things got out of hand. “Corey, you can hear me and my commands from anywhere in the world.” Evan now started to think about what he should do next…he knew he could pretty much take over the world if he wanted to but he wanted to take his time. He realized he hadn’t even cum when he was jerking off watching Corey annihilate big Al. But he still felt a little guilty for killing someone….he wanted to try something else. “Corey, when you kiss me, you will make me 100 times hornier than I’ve ever been and you’ll multiply my cum production by 100.” He wasn’t sure it was going to work but he damn well was gonna try. He then added impulsively “And you’ll make me 100 times more turned on by your power and violence” “Corey, kiss me.” Corey leaned in and put his mouth on Evan’s. At first, it seemed like a normal passionate kiss, but then Corey’s tongue somehow latched onto Evan’s mouth and wouldn’t let go. Evan started pushing on Corey trying to get him off, but even at Corey’s “normal” state of 300+ pounds, Evan was no match for him. Evan felt Corey’s tongue lengthen and start traveling down Evan’s throat. Somehow, Evan didn’t choke as the tongue continued down, through his stomach and suddenly winding its way into Evan’s groin. Evan inhaled sharply as he felt Corey stimulating Evan’s balls from the inside. The sensation was unlike anything Evan had experienced before, as if someone was sounding his testicles, if that were possible. Then Evan felt it…a series of substances started expelling from Corey’s tongue, and he watched wide-eyed as his balls began to inflate. Then a mist started washing over his head and he realized…he was horny. He was REALLY horny. Even though Corey’s mouth was still latched, he was able to utter a guttural roar as his cock hardened and started leaking pre as if he was peeing. Corey’s tongue continued its work as Evan’s testicles grew to baseballs, then grapefruits, then small melons. Evan didn’t even notice as Corey’s tongue slowly curled back up through his body and Corey unlatched himself from Evan’s mouth. He stood there, drooling from his mouth and from his cock. He only cared about one thing. Getting release. And the only thing that would give him release would be watching Corey destroy someone again with his strength. He NEEDED Corey to destroy someone. He needed it so bad it was painful. “Corey,” Evan could barely talk without shaking as every breath he took turned him on and made him spew more from his cock “when you rematerialize, you can bring people with you wherever you’re going.” He knew who he needed to unleash Corey on next. His ex-boyfriend, Alan. Alan had dated Evan for a few months and Evan had gotten attached quick and hard. Alan was ripped with icy blue eyes and Evan couldn’t believe Alan was attracted to him. Turns out…he wasn’t. After a few months, Alan admitted to Evan that he really appreciated his admiration and devotion but realized the feelings were one-sided. He added that Evan was too small and scrawny to really arouse him. Evan had never really recovered from the breakup, even though it was now 2 years ago. He had given Alan everything…and Alan broke his heart mercilessly. Well, now it was time to get revenge. “Corey, rematerialize with me in the living room of 567 Border st, apartment #7.” Evan blinked and suddenly…they were there. Evan collapsed to the floor, dizzy and disoriented. He breathed heavily as his head spun and slowly he grew accustomed to his surroundings. This was the apartment…the last place he and Alan had spoken when Alan had dumped him. He looked over and jumped back in fright at seeing Corey standing right next to him, staring into space. Corey seemed so out of place here…not a part of this gay melodrama at all but now…he was going to be a tool of Evan’s revenge. Evan heard sounds coming from the bedroom. Moaning and groaning…clearly Alan was having some fun. Growing bold with Corey by his side, Evan threw the door open and stood in the doorway, looking at Alan’s naked form on top of a slightly bigger than Evan but still twunk-ish looking fuckboy. “WHAT THE FUCK? EVAN??” “Hello, Alan. I see you have company.” “How the fuck did you get into my apartment? And what are you doing here?” “My, my, that’s no way to treat a guest. If you’re not going to invite me to join your little sex-capade, the least you could do is offer me a drink.” “Get out, Evan. Get out or I’ll call the cops.” “I don’t think that’s wise. Besides, you haven’t even met my new boyfriend. Corey, come in here.” Corey lumbered through the doorway and stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed. Even at 300 pounds, he was still impressive and about the size of Alan and his boy-toy combined. Alan’s friend started gathering his things. “Uhh….maybe I’ll catch you later, man. Seems like you got some things to work out.” “No, Bradley, wait!” Alan cried desperately. “Yes, Bradley…why don’t you wait. We’re about to have some fun.” Evan spoke softly with a cruel smile. “Uh…no thanks, guys. This is a lot. I don’t want to be a part of this.” Bradley was growing more anxious by the minute; he was hastily trying to get his socks and underwear on. He threw on his shorts and tank and started making his way to the door. “Tsk, tsk. So rude to leave so early.” Evan quipped. “Corey, don’t let Bradley leave.” Bradley started for the door but Corey was all of a sudden right in his path. Bradley kept trying to move left and right but Corey would compensate. He then tried to make a run for it but Corey grabbed him and pushed him back. He even tried to punch Corey in the chest but upon he felt a massive pain in his fist and realized he hadn’t even made a dent in Corey. Corey stood emotionlessly looking at Bradley or more like through Bradley. “Guys….just let me go. This has nothing to do with me.” Bradley was ashy white and trembling. He had just met Alan on Grindr and this situation was way more than he bargained for. “Alan, I really leveled up after you. Do you want to see some cool stuff Corey can do?” “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I’m calling 9-1-1” Alan started reaching for his phone. “Corey, take Alan’s phone.” Corey walked over and grabbed the phone out of Alan’s hand. He did it so quickly and forcefully that Alan was too stunned to react. “Corey, squeeze the phone and grow your muscles until you crush the phone.” Alan and Bradley stared dumbfounded as they watched what happened next. Corey started to grow. He became 350, 360, 370, and within a minute he was 400 pounds. All the while he was squeezing the phone hard in his right hand. His clothes started shredding from his body, veins and bulging muscle peaking out from all sides. At 450 pounds, the phone cracked in half. Evan thought that would be the end but Corey kept growing. He realized he had asked Corey to do more than snap the phone…he had asked Corey to crush it. At 500 pounds, the phone started to break into smaller pieces. Corey made sure he had a grip on all of them as he continued to squeeze. Alan started pissing himself. At 567 pounds (Evan found out the exact number), Corey opened his hand to reveal the phone was a mass of little pieces and powder. At this moment, Bradley made another run for it. Evan had never asked Corey to stop his command not to let Bradley leave, so Corey quickly stood in his path, now much wider and more imposing. “Bradley, I’m getting tired of your audacity. I don’t want you to leave but you’re right, this is between me and Alan. So I’m going to just shut you up. Corey, punch Bradley in the face with 40% power.” Corey wound his arm back and swung at Bradley. Bradley tried to duck but Corey compensated, fulfilling Evan’s commands at any cost. When he made impact with his face, Evan heard a sickening crunch, Corey had broken his nose. When he pulled his fist back, Bradley also had a black eye and it looked like he was missing a tooth. He started letting out a high pitched wail Evan didn’t want to alert the neighbors. He remembered his horniness and his thirst for violence. “Corey, rip out Bradley’s vocal chords” Even though Bradley was still moaning and clutching at his face trying to figure out what was happening, he registered enough to start really screaming and running around. Corey easily pinned him against the wall. Bradley flailed at Corey, trying to hit him or scratch him or do anything to end the abuse. Corey simply grabbed Bradley’s arm and twisted it back til it started crackling. He had dislocated his shoulder and separated the muscle. Now Bradley’s arm was hanging limply at a weird angle. Just as Bradley opened his mouth to scream louder, Corey grabbed his gaping mouth and stretched it open, wider and wider until he had broken his jaw and torn his mouth from ear to ear. He then thrust his fist hard and deep inside Bradley’s mouth going deeper and deeper into his throat until Bradley was coughing and sputtering, unable to breathe. Evan could see Corey’s fist bulging in Bradley’s throat. Corey then found what he was looking for. He grabbed onto Bradley’s vocal chords and pulled, retracting his arm and fist out of the gaping hole that was Bradley’s mouth. Bradley started bleeding profusely and fell to the floor, grabbing at his throat with his one good arm and coughing trying to get his airways clear. But he wasn’t screaming. His face was just contorted in pain. He curled up in a ball and lay in the corner heaving, bleeding, and clutching at his arm and his throat. Alan leaned over the bed and puked while Evan simply took out his cock and monster balls and started stroking. Corey stood there with pieces of Bradley’s chords in his hand. “Wow, a real life Ursula/Ariel situation” Evan quipped, maniacally. Alan finally spoke up. “What are you going to do to me? Why are you doing this?” “Why? WHY?” Evan grew simultaneously hornier and angrier, his cock now gushing pre. “Because I gave you everything. I gave you gifts, and love, and attention, and you gave me nothing in return. You have a part of me that I will never get back. And I can’t let you break any more hearts.” “Evan, this is insane. You can’t be mad at me for not being in love with you.” “I’m not. I’m mad at you for making me fall in love with you.” Alan didn’t respond but Evan didn’t wait too long before turning his attention back to Corey. “Corey, drop whatever’s in your hands.” The bloody pieces of flesh fell to the floor. “Corey, get on top of Alan. Pin him down so he can’t move.” Alan was so stunned, he didn’t even bother moving. He watched, frozen in fear, as Corey quickly got on the bed and pinned down his arms and legs. “What, are you going to make your drone rape me?” Alan shrieked. “No, you’ve had more than enough random sex, Alan. None of this should be fun for you.” Evan continued, “Corey, lay down on Alan and put all of your weight on him.” Corey lay down obediently and Alan felt his body uncomfortably mushed into the mattress. It didn’t feel great but it was more annoying than anything else. Evan smirked and stroked his leaking cock harder. “Corey, gain 5 pounds every second.” Within 10 seconds, Corey was over 600 pounds. His muscle definition was slowly fading and he was getting a bigger roid gut. Evan hadn’t specified what kind of weight to gain so Corey was basically just getting fatter with every second. Alan was starting to feel really crushed by Corey’s ballooning weight. Evan watched as Corey got bigger and bigger, arms turning into giant sausages and belly beginning to spill over the bed. At 750 pounds, Alan began to moan through Corey’s blubber. He was actually trying to punch it but he was so feeble in comparison that it felt like nothing more than light vibrations to Corey. The mattress was soft so Alan wasn’t being physically injured apart from now feeling more and more suffocated. That all changed when Corey hit 900 pounds. At 900 pounds, the metal bedframe began to creak. The sounds became more and more ominous and the mattress was being forced deeper and deeper into a v-shape. At 1050 pounds, the bedframe collapsed and Alan dropped 2 feet to the wooden floor with Corey and his humongous amount of flab dropping right on top of him. The impact was enough to crush his nose, break a few ribs, and splinter his sternum. He was now breathing erratically and sputtering but still alive. Evan was getting close to orgasm and growing impatient. “Corey, stand up.” Corey slowly rolled over and helped himself to his feet. It was a miracle he could stand at now being over 1100 pounds, but his base of almost 600 pounds of muscle was enough to support him. Evan looked over at Alan and he almost looked two dimensional. Still in one piece but kinda….flattened. “Corey, jump and land as hard as you can on your feet.” Corey jumped up and landed so hard, it sounded like a nuclear bomb. The wood splintered under him and he sank a few inches into the concrete that was the foundation of the building. Evan’s dick gushed pre faster. He was getting close. “Corey, stop growing when you reach 2,000 pounds.” Corey did as he asked and now stood almost like a whale with two feet. Evan had never fetishized intense fat gain but seeing Corey at 2,000 pounds made him rethink his turn-ons. Corey looked almost more intimidating, his stomach was like an angry cascading wave that would drown many a sailor in its wake. His chest was so big, Evan was pretty sure he could shove Alan into his pecs and complete envelop his body. But Evan had different plans. “Corey, jump up and land as hard as you can on top of Alan.” Alan’s eyes grew wide. He made one last feeble attempt to crawl away. But Corey didn’t hesitate or give him any time. He immediately jumped up and belly flopped on top of Alan. He fell right through the floorboards and hit the concrete below. If Evan hadn’t made him basically immortal he’d be worried Corey might be hurt from that impact belly-first. Whatever was left of Alan was underneath Corey. Evan had to see. “Corey, stand up.” And Corey stood. To say that Alan was a puddle would be an understatement. Half of whatever could be called “Alan” was glued to Corey’s torso and the other half was a smear on the concrete. There were no bones or limbs or features to be discerned. Corey had obliterated every bit of him. Evan suddenly felt himself stiffen as his cock shot out the most massive load yet, shooting into the ceiling and covering the entire apartment in cum. He stood there for a minute in satisfaction. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. He screamed and fell to the floor. He turned around and saw that Bradley had crawled over to his bag and taken out a swiss army knife. He had stabbed Evan right in ankle and was now crawling with one arm trying to get to Evan’s neck. The pain was excruciating be Evan knew he had to act. “Corey, get Bradley’s knife.” Corey moved surprisingly quickly for someone so obese. He ripped the knife right out of Bradley’s hands. He didn’t need superhuman strength for that, Bradley was badly injured and he didn’t have the strongest grip on the blade. He lay there with his arm outstretched dejectedly, still unable to utter a single word. Evan looked down at his ankle, it was gushing blood. He hobbled over to the couch and put his foot on a chair. “Corey, grab me some paper towels, please.” For a second, he forgot Corey wasn’t exactly sentient and didn’t care whether you said “please” or not but Evan was in too much pain to think clearly. Corey handed him paper towels and Evan applied pressure to the wound. He had never been knifed before and it seemed pretty deep but he was sure he could figure out a way to get Corey to help heal him. But first he had to take care of Bradley. “You know Bradley, I was going to possibly spare your life. But you’ve become pretty nasty without your voice, I can’t have you going around stabbing people just because you aren’t getting enough attention.” Bradley lay motionlessly on the floor. He knew it was futile to fight this. Evan’s mind was racing. Even though his ankle hurt like hell, he was still in his demonically elated state, having just cum to the sight of someone being obliterated. With every murder, he was growing more and more twisted in his fantasies and desires. He finally settled on what he wanted to see Corey do next. “Corey, transform your body to be 1000 pounds of shredded muscle.” Slowly, Corey’s flab melted off as his muscle simultaneously inflated and grew. His sausage arms turned into freakish biceps, with each sinew monstrously defined and veins 5 inches thick. His pecs became like hammers and Evan imagined Corey could probably crush steel between his pecs. His quads became 80 inches around, each an unbreakable pillar of titanium. It was fun to see Corey enormously fat, but this was Evan’s true fetish. His cock immediately hardened again. “We’re going to play a game Bradley. It’s called stay alive! Here are the rules:” He turned to face Corey. “Corey, when I say “go”, for the next hour, unless I stop you sooner, you will have free will with the exception of these conditions: One, you cannot leave this room. Two, you cannot let Bradley leave this room. And three, you aren’t aware of my presence. Do you understand?” “Yes, Evan.” “And Corey…on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the hungriest anyone has ever been, you will get one point hungrier every 5 minutes.” “Yes, Evan.” Then Evan whispered something in Corey’s ear that Bradley couldn’t hear. “Yes, Evan.” “Ok Corey….GO” Corey turned to Bradley, his face pale and frightened. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I did this to you, dude. It’s like I had no control over myself. We need to get you to a hospital. We gotta figure out a way to get out of here…I just wish we weren’t surrounded by flames on all sides.” Bradley tried to drag himself out of the doorway but Corey rushed in and grabbed him, throwing him back. “Dude! I know its dire but don’t kill yourself!” Corey panted. “We’ll figure out what to do, we just gotta think.” Bradley wanted to scream. He wanted to tell Corey that there were no flames. But he had no voice. He saw a pen and piece of paper in the corner. He slowly started to drag his way over to the counter. Evan stood outside the doorway, smirking and stroking again. Corey looked over at Bradley. “What are you writing man? There……are…..no……flames. Dude, what are you talking about? Your vision must have gone too. Its ok, I’m here to protect you.” Bradley shook his head in despair. He tried to write again but he was in so much pain he couldn’t get too many words down. “You…..are….being….tricked….no….flames. Dude, I don’t understand. All I know is, we gotta get out of here soon because there’s no food and I’m starting to get hungry.” Bradley looked at the clock – 14 minutes had passed. He knew Corey was about to hit 3 on the hunger scale. And he didn’t know what Evan had whispered in his ear. He needed a plan, quick. He wrote a little note on another piece of paper, ripped it up, crumpled it in a fist and threw it over to Corey. Corey was confused, he started trying to put the pieces back together. “Oh, you’re worried we’re being watched? Yeah, good idea, I’ll put this back together,” Corey reasoned. Bradley resumed his slow drag to the doorway. He had almost got his fingers through the threshold when he felt Corey grab his legs and pull. “DUDE! Stop. I can’t try to reconstruct this note while you’re trying to jump into flames.” Then Bradley heard a terrifying noise. It was Corey’s stomach growling. He looked at the clock…23 minutes. Corey was about to hit a 5/10, with 10 being the hungriest anyone has ever been. “Man, I’m getting so fucking hungry. I can’t believe they left us here with no food.” Corey’s stomach kept rumbling, getting louder and louder. He started clawing at his hair and rocking back and forth. “So…fucking….hungry…” Bradley gathered up all his energy and made one final attempt to leap through the threshold. Maybe if he made it through the doorway, Corey wouldn’t be able to follow him. He got on his legs and just as he was about to jump, Corey grabbed him and pulled him close. Bradley looked up at the clock: 32 minutes…Corey was now at 6/10 in hunger. He looked over at Corey, his eyes were bloodshot and his mouth was watering. His stomach was now a perpetual growl that grew louder with every second. Corey spoke softly and waveringly. “They left us…with no food….and I’m so….fucking….hungry….” He pulled Bradley in closer and started smelling his neck. Bradley felt saliva drip from Corey’s mouth. Bradley tried to scream again but no sound came out. Evan was close to cumming again. He decided to give Bradley the extra tidbit he had whispered into Corey’s ear. “I’m so sorry Bradley, but the hungrier Corey gets, the more he has a desire for human flesh. Don’t worry, it will be over soon.” Bradley started writhing frantically in Corey’s grasp….it was now 41 minutes. Corey was at an 8/10 in hunger. He started licking Bradley’s neck, tasting his sweat. “Fuck…so hungry…and you taste so delicious….fuck” He then let go of Bradley and stood over him. “I don’t want to hurt you but….I just need something to carry me over...just let me have a taste.” Corey put his hands on Bradley’s shoulder. With a rapid movement, he pulled with his left hand, ripping Bradley’s arm right out of its socket. Blood spurted everywhere and Bradley’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Corey stared at the ripped out arm and took a huge bite as if it were a drumstick. It tasted AMAZING to Corey. His cock started waking up as he took another big bite. Evan has strengthened his teeth so he was biting through bone like it was a graham cracker. Bones tasted even better to Corey, the marrow was sweet and the more Corey ate, the hungrier he became. He devoured the arm in a few minutes and then he looked back at Bradley, longingly. Despite consuming Bradley’s arm, his hunger had finally reached 10/10. Corey knew what he wanted. He punched Bradley hard in the sternum, his arm bursting through his skin and grabbing Bradley’s weakly pounding heart. He then tore the organ out of his body and stuffed it in his mouth, taking massive bites and spewing blood everywhere. Bradley was dead now so Corey felt no inhibitions ripping through his carcass piece by piece, consuming every bit of flesh he could find. He kept eating ravenously, tearing through muscle and bone, until nothing was left of Bradley but specs of blood that had spurted out of Corey’s mouth due to his messy eating. At the end of one hour, Corey stood up emotionlessly and stared at Evan. Evan walked back into the room. “Good job, my pet. Let’s go. Rematerialize both of us back in my bedroom in my house” Evan and Corey disappeared from the apartment – a very confusing crime scene with lots of blood but almost nothing to identify either victim. As Evan went to bed that night, he thought about the full day he had planned for tomorrow.
  6. ****WARNING!! VERY VIOLENT AND DESCRIPTIVE CHAPTER**** Hey guys! Thanks for your support so far with the story. This chapter definitely takes a deep turn into all of the tags above. I hope it doesn't offend anyone! I'm planning to make a few more chapters and there is definitely an *end* to the story I have in mind but I don't think I'll post here anymore unless enough of you actually want more of this kind of material. Thanks again for reading! CHAPTER 5 At first, there was nothing. Then Corey started to shake a bit. He opened his eyes and suddenly began to scream again. Evan was elated until he saw the muscles in (on) Corey’s arms start to bulge. “Corey, STOP GROWING!” The twitching stopped, but Corey was still in immeasurable pain. “Corey…shrink your muscles down and um…heal all your wounds.” Sure enough, Corey’s muscles started to deflate. Before he was going to get too small, Evan added “Shrink until you reach the size you were before you started growing just now.” Bit by bit, all of Corey’s muscles retracted until he reached his smaller but still impressive 340 pound size. Slowly, his skin started to grow over the tears and rips all over his body and Corey stopped screaming. The whole transformation lasted about 10 minutes. Evan wasn’t sure if he could force him to heal faster but he figured he’d let Corey do it at his own pace. When it was over, Corey was standing perfectly straight and starting at Evan, not a cut anywhere on him. Evan realized he probably had healed himself from Big Al’s onslaught as well. Speaking of Big Al….now was the opportunity to really get revenge. But, first thing’s first. “Corey, you will not die unless I specifically ask you too. You must adapt to any modifications or requests I make of you and your body must compensate to keep you alive and healthy. Is that clear?” “Yes, Evan.” Evan had to test it out. “Corey, grow your right bicep until it is 40 inches in circumference.” Slowly but surely, Corey’s arm began to swell. First he saw the same bulging and veins from the first attempt, but this time there was no screaming or emotions of any kind. Corey’s skin was stretching to accommodate the bicep. There were still some stretch marks, to be sure, but Evan figured it was the difficulty of Corey’s brain understanding the command to grow and stretch fighting his command to stay healthy and adapt. Besides, stretch marks are sexy, Evan thought to himself. Corey’s arm grew bigger than a football, bigger than a basketball, and finally reached almost a beach ball size. It was glorious. Evan immediately ran over to kiss and touch it. It was hard and rough, almost like he had really grown an arm that big from years of lifting and dedication. But his arm was way out of proportion with the rest of his body. “Corey, grow all your other muscles so that they are in ideal bodybuilder proportion with your right bicep.” Five minutes later, and Corey was a sight to behold. His bulging traps surrounded his head in such a way that Evan was almost contemplating asking Corey to grow his skull so it didn’t look so comically tiny. His pecs were each the size and weight of a small child, with striations and stretch marks crossing them all over like a spider web. His abs were almost etched as a 10-pack and each one of his legs could compete in girth with a small bathtub. “Corey, you know all the stats about your body, don’t you?” Corey blinked. “I do, Evan.” “Corey, how much do you weigh?” “576 pounds, Evan.” “Corey, whats the circumference of your chest” “120 inches, Evan.” Holy crap, Corey’s chest was almost twice around what his height was. “Corey, what modifications has your body made to accommodate these changes.” “I now have an extra heart, and extra two lungs, and an extra liver.” So Corey was almost non-human anymore. Evan couldn’t believe the scope of what was happening in front of him. If he asked Corey to be a butterfly or a moose would he just become one? His head was spinning with possibilities. But of course…his stiff leaking tool in his pants led the way. “Corey…your body should produce 10 times the normal amount of testosterone for a man.” Corey stood there, without changing. At first, Evan thought maybe there wouldn’t be changes he could see, but then he realized….Corey probably already adjusted the testosterone level for his new size. “Corey….your body should produce 100 times the normal amount of testosterone” “Yes, Evan….” Corey said in a much deeper voice. Evan watched as more hair sprouted all over his chest, back, arms, legs, and started even showing through the top of his shorts which were almost painted on to his legs. “Corey, your body should produce 10,000 times the normal amount of testosterone” Corey screamed again, but it wasn’t a painful scream like earlier. It was the deepest thickest growl Evan had ever heard. He almost felt it rumble inside his own chest. Hair began to spring from every pore on Corey’s body. His brow became more ridged, and his adam’s apple became more like an adam’s pineapple. With another scream, he flexed as hard as he could, shredding what little was still clinging to his chest and tearing his shorts clean off. Seeing Corey’s bulge in his still barely there underwear, Evan was surprised that his cock and balls hadn’t grown that much. He supposed testosterone didn’t directly correlate with cock size or ball size. “Corey, grow your cock and balls until they are 3 times the length and girth they are now. Your cum production should be 100 times the normal amount.” Evan watched, stroking his own dick now, as Corey’s dick became almost 2 ft long, 1 ft around, and his balls grew heavier and heavier until they were the size of volleyballs. Luckily, on top of Corey’s muscle and massive body, they actually seemed proportional, like someone had just morphed all his features together (except for his head). “Corey, how much do you weigh now?” “605 pounds, Evan.” Corey’s voice made Barry White seem like a chipmunk. So there was 30 pounds in his testicles and cock alone. That fact almost drove Evan to shoot his load right there. But he had Big Al on his mind. He led Corey to his car and asked him to shrink back down to a manageable size. Luckily, he had some clothes in his trunk he could lend to Corey so he wouldn’t be walking around naked. “Let’s go back to the gym.” “Yes, Evan.” Corey, now a modest 300 pounds, and Evan walked back into the gym. Evan scoured the floor and immediately spotted Al by the leg press. He and Corey walked back over. Big Al looked up and grimaced. “You, again. What the fuck do you want?” “You know…I think Corey was trying not to make you look bad in front of everyone. If you want a real fight, let’s go around back to the alley and see how tough you really are.” “You fucking losers, if I beat your boyfriend to a pulp will you leave this gym forever and stop bothering me?” “It’s a deal.” “Fine. Let’s go. I got a good pump going and I could use the boxing practice.” Big Al smirked and walked over to the back door. “Corey, let’s go.” Evan muttered. “Yes, Evan.” They exited into the alley – not used much for anything and very secluded. Big Al turned to face Corey. “Wait…what the fuck happened to his face? Why is he so fucking hairy?” Evan realized he had shrunk Corey but he was still producing literally tons of testosterone. Well, it wouldn’t matter for much longer. “Corey, grow again until you’re the 605 pound monster you were before in the parking lot.” Just like before, Corey started to flex and bulge all over, slowly tearing through Evan’s old shirt and pants, becoming wider and wider. Big Al just stared, wide eyed, and started quaking with fear. “What the fuck is this…” Before Corey could finish the transformation, Al turned and started to run. “After him, Corey, as fast as you can. Grab him and bring him back here.” Big Al was trying to run but Corey was literally running at 100% effort per Evan’s command and caught up with him quickly. He awkwardly grabbed him in a bearhug and brought him back to Evan where he unceremoniously dropped him on the ground. Al shakily stood up and rubbed his back, bruised from the impact. Evan wasn’t satisfied. He could order Corey around like a marionette but it was so much effort describing every single action and making sure he accounted for every variable. He needed Corey to lead the show. “Corey, the amount of testosterone flowing through you makes you pretty violent and aggressive, right? Like a wild beast.” Corey started to breathe heavily and his nostrils twitched. He replied in a much more chilling voice, “Yes, Evan.” Big Al was getting freaked out. “Please…I’m over it. Can I just leave?” “Corey, I think you’re the horniest you’ve ever been. Your balls are overproducing so much that you can’t control your need to fuck. The only thing that will give you release is fucking Big Al.” Corey started moaning. As he turned to face Al, his cock was rock hard and spewing precum like a fountain. Big Al looked at Evan pleadingly. Evan sneered. “Corey…do what you have to do for release.” Then, Evan turned quickly to Big Al and muttered “We’ll see who the faggot is now.” Big Al took two steps back but he knew he had little chance of escaping. Corey immediately ran towards him and lunged on him, knocking Al on his back. Corey tore at Al’s clothes, ripping his shirt and shorts off, and easily tearing through his posers. Corey was basically twice Al’s size at this point so “Big Al” was more like “Ragdoll Al” to him. Al tried to punch and kick at Corey, but he was either blocked at every advance or his punches simply didn’t have any effect. Finally, with a frustrated scream, Corey punched Al hard in the stomach, knocking all the air out of him and making him wheeze and clutch his belly. Corey then flipped Al over and leaned over his muscled bodybuilder ass. His cock was spewing pre even more now. Without any ceremony or emotion, Corey plunged his cock deep into Al’s ass. At first, Al screamed at the top of his lungs. “Corey, cover his mouth” Evan quickly chimed in so that no one in the gym was alerted to anything wrong. Corey thrusted the first 6 inches of his 2ft cock in and out of Al’s increasingly gaping asshole. At first Al was squirming and resisting but then Evan noticed in shock…Al started moaning. He looked down and Al’s cock starting to get hard and leak with every thrust from Corey. Evan flew into a rage. Al was not supposed to enjoy this! This was punishment! The only person Corey was supposed to fuck to give pleasure was Evan. Evan let the darkness in his fantasies consume him. “Corey, when you fuck Al you need to thrust your entire cock in and out of his ass.” Corey nodded and tried to thrust his whole cock into Al. He got about a foot in and then he stopped. Both Al and Corey started screaming. “Corey, stop! And tell me why you screamed.” “My cock was bending trying to get all the way in, Evan.” Evan realized another ridiculous shortcoming in his new muscle god. He had given him a 2ft cock but he hadn’t given him a stronger or more resilient cock…and Al’s ass was sculpted and strong from his love of squatting. Big Al uttered one final plea – “Please…you proved your point. Enough…” But Evan was now himself jerking off to what was happening and he needed it to continue escalating. “Corey, when hard, your cock is 10 times harder than steel.” He watched as Corey’s cock grew more rigid and the veins became menacing and jagged. It didn’t look that different, but Evan knew it was a weapon now. “Now Corey, the only way you will cum is to put all 2ft of your cock in Al’s ass. “Yes, Evan.” Al made one final feeble attempt to push Evan off of him before Evan grabbed him roughly around the waist and shoved all 2ft of his cock into him. This time, Al didn’t even scream, but just opened his mouth wide and Evan saw his eyes almost bulge out. When Corey pulled his cock out, Al’s ass was bleeding profusely. But Corey had no reaction and just kept fucking him, tearing his ass more and more. After a few minutes, Corey let out a low moan and started cumming. Then Evan remembered he made Corey overproduce cum 100x more than an average man. In shock, he watched as a mix of blood and cum started pouring out of Al’s ass like a hydrant. After what seemed like an eternity, Corey pulled out and stood up facing Evan. His cock was still covered in cum and blood. Al moaned feebly. Everyone just stood in silence for a moment, absorbing the situation. Evan was so shocked himself that he even forgot he was jerking off. Finally, Al broke the silence. “You may have….won this round faggots…but wait til I call the cops…I’m sure the gym owners can identify you…you better start running.” It was almost comical watching Al try to give threats as he lay in a bloody heap on the concrete but Evan knew he was right. He took a deep breath and grimaced. He knew what he had to do. “Corey, pick up Al and get him in a bearhug.” Al couldn’t believe the abuse wasn’t over. “You fuckers trying to kill me? Are you out of your minds?” Evan replied, coyly and blankly “I’m out of my mind and his mind belongs to me now.” Then he turned to Corey. “Start squeezing at 1% of your effort and increase by 1% every second.” Evan needed to see how strong Corey was at this size. He then added, almost as an afterthought, “And Corey, the harder you squeeze the more pleasure you get.” At first, not much happened. At 1%, Corey’s bearhug was more like warm embrace. Al struggled a bit trying to get out but he was still winded and exhausted from his assault minutes before. At about 10%, Corey’s hug started to be painful. Al wriggled around trying to get in a more comfortable position. He even realized he probably should be screaming for help but it was getting harder to catch a breath. At 30%, Al started to turn red in the face and gasp for air. Evan watched incredulously, realizing how powerful Corey really was at this size, if at 30% he was started to be a real threat. He then looked at Corey and saw him start to smile. It became obvious that Corey was holding back to raise his effort by precisely 1% every second. And the more effort he put in, the more pleasure he felt, and his dick had started to harden again. At 50%, Evan heard a sickening crack. Corey had broken one of Al’s ribs. At 55%, Evan heard a series of cracks. Al’s ribcage was getting slowly crushed. He started coughing up blood. At 60%, Corey started to laugh. Evan realized he hadn’t specified what kind of pleasure Corey was going to get so it seemed like it was a mix of enjoyment and arousal. Corey’s cock began to spew precum and harden into its harder-than-steel state. At 70%, Al’s skin started to burst. Evan could see bones and muscle and guts start to tear through his skin on his stomach, his chest and through his back. Corey was squeezing him like a tube of toothpaste. Al was definitely dead now…but Evan for some sickening reason wanted to see what would happen at 100% At 80%, Corey suddenly let out a guttural moan and started thrusting his cock again into what was left of Al’s ass. The sheer force of Corey’s fucking made Al’s corpse twitch as if he was still alive and feeling things. At 90%, Corey started getting wild and reckless with his fucking. He started making strange sounds and drooling from his mouth. Evan watched as Corey’s cock ripped right through Al’s torso, almost skewering him like a kebab. At 95%, Corey started squeezing Al’s body inward vertically, crunching him together like a trash compactor. He broke every vertebrae in his spine and then continued to mash his arms and legs together into a bundle with his cock still thrusting through his flesh. At 100%, Corey made one final thrust and shot his cock through Al’s skull. He screamed as he unleashed another massive load of cum, covering the surrounding 10 feet in guts and cum. Evan lifted his hands in front of his face to protect himself from being sprayed but luckily he was not hit. He slowly lowered his hands and opened his eyes – Corey was essentially bearhugging his own steel cock. There was nothing left of Al, bits and pieces of him lay scattered around the alley as if he had been blown up from the inside. Corey was continuing to squeeze his own cock as Evan hadn’t told him to stop. Evan was slightly pleased that Corey’s cock was withstanding the bearhug with 100% force. “Corey, stop the bearhug and be in a level state of emotion” Corey immediately put his hands down and turned to stare at Evan dumbly. “You’ve done well, babe. I want you to shrink down to your old size. I’m going to go inside and get you some new clothes.” As Corey began to shrink down, Evan went back into the gym where it seemed luckily no one had heard or noticed anything over the sound of the music and fans. He told the front desk his friend had run out into the alley and puked all over himself, and he was hoping there might be extra clothes for him. The guy at the desk smiled as he leaned over to get a company shirt. “Your friend trained a little too hard, huh?” “Yeah…he definitely hit some PRs today.”
  7. Hey friends! Another chapter for Evan and Corey. This one starts taking a more extreme turn for sure...but I have a feeling Chapter 5 will be the one that has most of you excited CHAPTER 4 Growing up, Evan had loved reading comic books. Batman, Superman, and especially the Hulk. He quickly found himself more fascinated with the villains rather than the heroes. They often had immense power and opportunity and always found some way to squander it. He would fantasize about ways he could succeed in the villain’s shoes and destroy the heroes. When Big Al approached Evan with his rude comment, Evan realized he had more than a giant sex toy to work with in Corey…he had his own personal muscle god to do his bidding. So far, he had asked Corey to flex, rip through clothing, and do feats of strength like crushing a watermelon or tearing a phone book in half. But he had no idea what Corey would do in a fight, especially with someone as big as Big Al. He figured there was only one way to find out. “You’re lucky its free gay porn, asshole. You should be paying us for this performance.” Evan was impressed with himself. Gone was the sniveling anxious admirer, he had power now and he knew it. “What did you say to me, freak? You should be paying me not to beat the shit out of you.” “Have you seen my boyfriend over there? He’s over 340 pounds of muscle and power. I’d think twice before threatening me.” Big Al looked over at Corey, who was staring blankly in another direction. He smirked. “Doesn’t look that scary to me…you wouldn’t want me to damage all his big delicate muscles, would you?” It was now or never. “Corey, I want you to fight Big Al for me.” Corey suddenly awoke from his stupor and looked at Al and then Evan. He started shaking and sweating. Almost like he was trying to fight a deep paralysis. “…why? I don’t….want to…..fight,” Corey managed to mutter. Evan turned red. This was the first time Corey had disobeyed him in a long time. And it was in front of Big Al. Big Al started chuckling. “See? Even your muscle fag doesn’t want to face me. Guess he’s got the brains of the relationship.” Evan wasn’t going to let this go. He hadn’t used the perfume in a long time but there was still plenty left and he always kept it in his pocket in case of emergencies. This was an emergency. He sprayed his neck twice and turned to Corey. “Corey…you really want to fight Big Al for me.” Corey looked at Evan and stood there limply. Almost all the light was gone from his eyes. He responded in a monotone: “Yes, Evan.” He started lumbering over to Big Al awkwardly. He then started swinging his arms left and right – as if he were throwing punches but didn’t know how to punch anyone. Big Al was almost on the floor laughing. “This is amazing, boys. This entertainment I almost want to pay for.” Evan realized he had made Corey grow and get huge but he had no idea if Corey had ever fought anyone or had any fighting skills. He grew more and more frustrated…even he had played enough video games to have an idea of how to throw a punch better than what Corey was doing now. Evan screamed, “C’MON COREY! FIGHT HIM!” Corey replied blankly, but now heaving with exhaustion, “Yes, Evan” He renewed his efforts to punch or tackle Big Al but Al had had enough. He muttered under his breath “Ok this was fun and games but I am over it.” Pulling his arm back he landed a huge punch right in Corey’s stomach. Corey fell to the ground dry heaving. The rest of the gym members looked on stunned, but no one was going to intervene or face Big Al. Big Al was satisfied but annoyed. “Listen boys, you just wasted a good 10 minutes of my workout. I could beat the shit out of you faggots if I wanted to but you’re too pathetic for even that. Just stay out of my way and stop fucking around at the gym.” He walked away to the locker room. Evan ran over to Corey to see if he was ok. “COREY! Are you ok? Can you breathe?” Corey managed to sputter “I’m having trouble breathing, Evan.” “Ok, let’s get out of here. Let’s go outside.” “Yes, Evan.” Evan helped Corey stumble outside. It wasn’t easy trying to help a 340 pound man walk and Corey was severely injured. Evan started to think maybe Big Al had broken some ribs. They got to the parking lot and sat down on a bench. Evan’s head was racing….he had spent all those months growing Corey, grooming Corey, worshipping Corey…and what did he have to show for it? They could never work out at the gym again without people seeing them and knowing how pathetic they really are. Corey was supposed to become his secret weapon and he was instead more of a bumbling Frankenstein. Evan stared at Corey who was still trying to catch his breath…and suddenly felt disgust. Not disgust at himself, for Evan was too drunk with power to even have that much humility left, but disgust at Corey for being so inept and so disappointing. He got so angry…all that perfume…all the potential…..totally wasted. Completely impulsively, Evan grabbed the perfume bottle out of his pocket and unscrewed the top. He stared at the green liquid, swirling around and still slightly musky. Suddenly, he threw the bottle on the concrete, smashing it to pieces. “Fuck this.” He muttered. As he got up, he realized the perfume was wafting all around him, consuming him. It clung to every pore, every inch of skin, every cell in Evan’s body. And all of a sudden, it was gone. He turned to look at Corey. “Um…Corey….?” Corey’s head turned around to face Evan and Evan almost screamed. Corey looked like he had been lobotomized. No expression, no emotion, and some drool escaping from his gaping mouth. For a brief moment, Evan felt guilty. Guilty he had taken over Corey’s life and grown him to a big but not so powerful roided bodybuilder. And now he had deleted his entire personality. Somehow, he didn’t think “Corey, I want you to be normal again” would do much as a command. Evan was about to start crying when he realized…he still had the power. He may not be able to control Big Al or anything else except for Corey. He could always control Corey…now more than ever. Evan was determined to see what limits he could push with Corey. “Corey, stand up.” Corey immediately stood up, no longer heaving or clutching his stomach. Evan wondered how much of it was recovery and how much of it was Evan not giving him permission to express pain. “Corey…I want you to get bigger for me. You really want to get bigger for me.” Corey started sweating and turning red. “I want to get bigger.” “You want more muscle, more size, and you will do whatever it takes to get bigger.” “More muscle, more size…” “MORE! I want you growing! All you care about is growing!” “All I care about is growing…” “MORE MUSCLE MORE POWER!” Evan was shaking now. “GROW FOR ME. GROW NOW” Suddenly Corey screamed at the top of his lungs. It was the loudest shrieking sound Evan had ever heard and it almost sounded like it came from the depths of hell. The next thing Evan saw made him vomit on the spot. All over Corey’s body, muscles started to twitch and contract. Veins appeared all over his body. His arms started pulsing, bulging, getting bigger and bigger. His pec started to strain the straps on his tank, getting veiny and striated. His legs were on the verge of ripping his very stretchy gym shorts. But that’s not the part that made Evan sick…. Corey’s muscles started to tear through his skin. Evan could see his extremely defined bicep rip right through the skin on his arm. His pecs burst out of his chest. His lats started ripping through the skin on his back. Corey became a bloody disjointed mess and then all of a sudden he stopped screaming and fell to the ground. He wasn’t moving. Evan came over and checked for a pulse….nothing. Evan started panicking. Besides the fact that there was a dead person in front of him, and it was someone he loved, he was also aware that they were in the middle of a big parking lot and Corey’s muscles were on the wrong side of his skin. He kept looking around for either help or to make sure no one was there and for better or worse, he saw no one. The perfume had worked so well, he could change Corey’s body just by commanding it to. Corey could grow muscle on demand. It had backfired…but the potential was so enticing to Evan. He thought to himself, “If its powerful enough to kill him just with words, I wonder….” Evan leaned into Corey’s ear and whispered. “I want you to be alive Corey. You’re alive.” Then he leaned back, and waited.
  8. The story definitely picks up speed in this chapter PART 3 It had started mostly innocently. Evan would have Corey over and Corey would let him worship his muscle. Corey had already loved flexing and being admired, so it probably wasn’t only the perfume, but the potion definitely gave Evan the power to feel around wherever he wanted. The bulging rippling pecs, steel-cut abs, veiny bulging quads, and wide-as-a-door lats were probably his favorite. And of course, the massive guns. Evan had always known Corey had massive arms from watching him curl at the gym but when Corey was flexing, they were at an entirely new level – dwarfing his head, veins on all sides. To Evan’s delight, the perfume never wore off. In fact, the two sprays he had given himself seemed pretty potent – most suggestions seemed just fine to Corey. Even when Evan asked Corey to strip out of his undies and jerk off – Corey smiled and said “Sure, sounds fun!” Corey’s cock was nothing extraordinary – an average 6 inches – but on top of that bodybuilder physique, it made Evan’s eyes water. Pretty soon, Evan worked up the courage to take things a step further. “Corey….could you fuck me?” Corey hesitated. “Evan, I love hanging out and fooling around but I am married. I don’t want to cross too many boundaries.” Evan briefly considered grabbing the perfume but he remembered the magician’s warning. He tried another tactic. “But Corey, you’ve been thinking about fucking me this whole time, haven’t you?” “Hehe….yeah I guess I have been” “And it would be so hot to slide the muscle cock inside of me, wouldn’t it?” Corey stared to get hard. Evan licked his lips watching Corey start to sweat and his cock inflate. “I mean…I guess if we don’t tell her…it’s not like I’m fucking another girl” Evan grinned, admiring his own power. “Then fuck me. Hard.” And so, the next week progressed with raucous sex at every turn. Corey was more than happy to oblige any of Evan’s sex fantasies. They all involved being rough and dominating, qualities which Corey already had inside of him. Evan felt a bit guilty and anxious about making him cheat on his wife, but all of that was wiped away as soon as a he felt Corey thrusting his cock through his tight ass, his pecs and traps casting a looming shadow over him as sweat dripped off Corey’s brow into Evan’s thirsty mouth. Everything was great – until one morning about a month into their “relationship.” Evan noticed Corey had been shrinking a bit. Not much, but enough to make Evan concerned that the perfume might have side effects. “Corey, have you noticed anything changing?” “Changing? Whadda ya mean, pal?” “Well, you look amazing as always, I just couldn’t help but notice that um…you seem a bit smaller than you were last week.” Corey chuckled. “Oh yeah, I started a cut a few weeks ago. I’m getting ready for a show.” Evan’s eyes narrowed. He knew Corey competed and cutting was an essential part of getting your physique to competition standards…but he was a fan of big bulky muscle. That’s part of what drew him to Corey in the first place. “How much weight do you think you’re going to lose?” “Well, right now I’m 5’9” and 230 pounds. Think I’m gonna shrink down to about 210 for the show.” Evan was not happy at all. 210 would make Corey just 40 pounds heavier than Evan’s 170. Still bigger, but not at all what Evan fantasized about. And he knew Corey would start feeling tired and weak from eating so much less. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out: “Corey…I don’t think you should do that.” Evan almost couldn’t believe his own gall. Corey faltered. “Why…not?” “Being big is fun, right? I mean, if anything I think you should get bigger.” Corey frowned for the first time in a month. “Evan, bodybuilding is really important to me. I love getting bigger, of course, but cutting is an essential part of the process. I really want to place well, I got 2nd last year so I have a good shot at winning the contest this year.” Evan was torn. He didn’t want to ruin Corey’s dreams but he had gotten so used to being fucked by the big burly man he had been obsessed with for years. He was almost like an addict and someone was threatening to lower his dose. “Corey…you should get bigger. You would like to get bigger, wouldn’t you?” Corey’s lips twitched. He took a deep breath. A few seconds passed and it seemed like an eternity. Finally he spoke. “Evan, I’ll get bigger after the show. But I’ve gotta focus on winning this contest.” Evan was in a rage. He hadn’t been denied by Corey in a long time. He ran to his cabinet and grabbed the perfume, spraying it two more times on his neck. He ran back to the living room and saw Corey packing up his stuff. “Corey, STOP” Corey was suddenly still. He was almost frozen in place, hand in the middle of placing a protein shaker in his bag. “Turn and face towards me.” Corey turned around and looked at Evan. His eyes looked extremely glazed over, like he was high as a kite. “Flex – do a most muscular” With the same dumb face, Corey flexed his entire body as hard as he could. He held the pose for almost 30 seconds until Evan realized he had to tell Corey to stop flexing. “Now, rip your shirt off” Without hesitation, Corey grabbed his shirt by the collar and tore it in half, clean off his body. “Corey, I want you to get bigger. Get as big as you can.” “…get bigger…” Corey mumbled. “I want you to devote all your resources to growing muscle. Find a coach who is committed to always making you bigger. Buy any supplemenets and roids that you need.” “…always bigger…” “All day, you think about how big you’re gonna get. The bigger and stronger you get, the more turned on you are.” “I wanna get bigger.” “Always bigger, Corey, never big enough.” “NEVER BIG ENOUGH” Corey almost growled. That day was a major turning point for Evan and Corey. Almost immediately, Corey dropped out of the contest and starting packing on the pounds. His friends and family were definitely confused. His wife would try to get answers out of him but all he would say was “I just want to get bigger. I’ll never be big enough.” He also quickly fired his coach once he realized he was more motivated to help Corey compete rather than pump him full of drugs. Through Evan’s direction, Corey scoured the internet looking for the right coach to help him through his growth phase. He found someone on the dark web who was wealthy and willing to sponsor a growing beast. As soon as he saw the “before” pics of Corey, he was on board. On a terrifying cocktail of drugs, food, and sheer single-minded drive – Corey exploded. 230 quickly became 240, then 250, 260, 270….within 6 months he was 295 pounds. He had put on 65 pounds in 6 months – not unheard of, but incredibly substantial considering Corey was already huge when he started. Evan was pretty much in a state of constant arousal – it was almost like the bigger Corey got, and the harder he would fuck him, the more Evan would cum. A year later, and Corey’s life was upside down. His wife had left him, claiming he was being selfish pumping himself full of drugs, ruining his life and turning himself into a bloated freak. His friends couldn’t understand his obsession with growth that he had never expressed before, and they distanced himself. Evan couldn’t blame them – Corey was a staggering 340 pounds. At 5’9”, he was definitely wider than he was tall. He waddled through Evan’s living room, making the foundation shake with each stomp. Evan entertained himself by making Corey try on his old wardrobe, watching his bicep shred through every sleeve and his chest popping every button. Even his blocky roid gut started to burst belts and even metal chains Evan would tie around his torso. Corey’s face had changed too. Gone was the youthful cocky muscle jock and in his place was almost a neanderthal. He was hairy all over (Evan had told him to stop shaving) and his brow was constantly furrowed, giving him a caveman look. He was always breathing heavy – probably because his heart and lungs were having trouble keeping up with his mass -but Evan didn’t care. His lust for muscle grew with Corey’s size and the bigger he got, the bigger Evan wanted him. He grew bolder at the gym, too. He would come over to Corey to feel him up during his workouts. Or sit on his lap while he did lat pulldowns. Now that the wife and friends weren’t in the picture, Evan didn’t hesitate to make their relationship public. Most of the other gym members were confused and disgusted, but they didn’t say anything, except for one guy – Big Al. Before Corey had blown up, Big Al was the biggest guy at the gym – 300 pounds at 6ft and strong as hell. Now, Corey made him seem like “almost Big Al.” And seeing Corey and Evan touch each other and get hard around each other made him even angrier. One day, Big Al finally walked over and said something. “Could you fags please do your business somewhere else? I came here to train, not look at gay porn.” Evan smirked in a sinister way as Corey just stared blankly. Ideas started filling Evan’s head…
  9. Hey guys! Thanks for all the positive feedback so far! Feel free to DM me any requests for plot evolution. I have the full story in my mind but I'm open to suggestions! Again, no extreme things in this chapter but it starts to get spicier...hopefully each chapter will continue to add suspense and excitement PART 2 Collecting DNA from Corey couldn’t be easier – the big bodybuilder never wiped down any equipment after pushing multiple sets to failure. He would even squeeze out the sweat soaking his tank onto a bench and walk away chuckling. Evan waited for Corey to finish his last set of 425 pound squats before meekly scurrying over with a paper towel. He didn’t want anyone to see what he was doing so he simply wiped down the floor and barbell, easily soaking through the paper towel, and then quietly made his way to the locker room. Evan locked himself in a bathroom stall with the perfume and the paper towel. He carefully removed the sprayer and looked at the red viscuous liquid inside. It didn’t have a smell but it sparkled a bit in the light. He carefully set down the bottle and and held the Paper towel over it. He started to squeeze the paper towel but he was having trouble getting the sweat to drop into the bottle. He gave up, and decided to just rip the paper towel into a million tiny pieces and drop them all into the bottle. That seemed to do the trick – the perfume bubbled lightly and changed from deep red to almost a neon green. It smelled vaguely musky, not like Corey’s sweat but rather more like a wood musk smell that oozed of masculinity. Evan held the bottle in his trembling hand. It’s not that he didn’t believe it was magic, as the dramatic entrance and exit of the wizard was enough to convince him, but he was worried it wouldn’t work or backfire in some way. He gathered his courage and spritzed a bit of it on his neck. He closed his eyes and held his breath…and nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, he pocketed the perfume and cautiously entered back onto the gym floor. He spotted Corey by the leg press machine. He walked over carefully, 50 ft away, 30 ft away, and finally just about 10 ft away. Evan almost drooled at the sight of Corey’s heavy breathing. His massive chest rising and falling, his legs almost pulsing, straining his shorts at every movement. As soon as he crossed the 10ft threshold, he saw Corey pause and turn around for a second. He glanced around until he laid eyes on Evan and just stared for a second. Terrified that Corey might be reading his mind and learning about all his wild fantasies, Evan quickly stammered: “Hey man, just wondering how many sets you have left?” “I’ll actually be done pretty soon, you waiting for me, bro?”, Corey said with a smile. Evan didn’t think he’d ever seen Corey give a natural smile between the grunting grueling workouts and the intense posing he had spied on in the locker room. “Actually, I was wondering how long it took you to get those legs that big” Evan courageously ventured, knowing full well that if the perfume didn’t work, this interaction would turn sour quickly now. “Ha, been training hard for almost 10 years now. Started back in high school. But you look like you have a pretty good foundation yourself!” Corey’s voice was unwaveringly friendly. “Oh, thanks. Trying my best! I’m…um…Evan.” “Corey Johnson - nice to meet ya!” Corey extended his hand. Evan cautiously reached out his hand to shake when Corey suddenly withdrew. “Oh…I….um” “Haha, got you! That was way too easy. You’re a funny guy, Evan.” Corey chuckled raucously. Evan didn’t think it was that funny…but it gave him the proof he needed. The perfume WORKED! His head started spinning. He wondered how far the power extended. “Do you want to….um….hang out sometime?” “Maybe man, that could be fun. We could grab a drink…but you’re not asking me out though, are you?” “Well…not necessarily…I don’t know” Evan suddenly felt panicked. “I’m flattered dude, but I’m not gay. And I’m also married.” Evan started sweating out of all his pores. He took a big gulp of air and tested things further: “Are you maybe a little gay? Slightly into men?” Corey’s face faltered. “No, man, I’m married to a woman. This is starting to get weird. I’ll see you later.” Corey started walking away. Damn it, damn it! Evan thought. He was losing his chance. And now he might have to face Corey avoiding him and being creeped out from now on. Instinct took over. He fumbled for the perfume bottle and sprayed himself one more time. Corey stopped in his tracks. He didn’t turn around. They stood in silence for a moment. Well there was a vague radio playing top 40 in the background but it felt like the quietest moment Evan had ever been in. He took another chance. “Corey, I think it would be fun if we hung out!” Corey turned around and Evan noticed he looked slightly different. His eyes were maybe a bit glazed over and his mouth seemed slightly open, like he was daydreaming. Suddenly, he smiled again. “You do?” “Yeah…we should have some beers at my place. Right now!” Evan didn’t know if the perfume wore off and didn’t want to take the chance. Corey jumped in enthusiastically. “Sounds great, bud! Let me grab my gym bag and we’ll head over to yours.” Evan’s jaw dropped. He stared at Corey and then at the perfume bottle. He started getting hard thinking about the power he held in his hands. Two sprays, and Corey was eating out of the palm of his hand. Corey quickly knocked Evan out of his stupor. “Ready to go, buddy?” “Yeah, lets get in my car. Before we go, would you mind flexing that arm for me?” “No problem” Corey grinned and raised his right arm, giving his bicep a solid flex. “20 inches this morning.” Evan’s mouth watered. Not wanting to make a public scene, Evan led Corey out of the gym and towards his car.
  10. Francisco era un hombre ya maduro, alrededor de los 52 años, un hombre de cuerpo lampiño y cabello negro, ya tenía canas en su cabellera, aúnque aún el color oscuro predominaba, bigote bien cuidado, su forma física era buena, era alguien fornido, se veía q en su juventud había sido alguien que siempre estuvo en buena forma, sus brazos robustos aún se veían un poco en forma era el dueño de una empresa farmacéutica, su vida y sus investigaciones las había dedicado por mucho tiempo a encontrar la forma de pelear contra el avance de la edad, había estudiado posibilidades infinitas, la constante de saber el desgaste continuo del cuerpo era la falta de la capacidad célular de regeneración, pero ... Francisco se obsesionó desde joven con ese tema, no paraba de desvelarse durante noches, estudiando componentes que podrían ayudar a esos procesos,hasta que al llegar a la edad de los 30 llegó a la conclusión que era importante darle especial atención al ejercicio ya la alimentación. Darle al cuerpo una dosis extra de proteínas concentradas y también testosterona en el caso de los hombres era esencial para poder hacer que el cuerpo humano estaba en óptimas condiciones, a nivel célular era lo ideal para poder hacer que todo estaba como una máquina perfectamente afinada. Pero no era suficiente, aún el desgaste avanzaba y ahí fue cuando Francisco entendió que el cuerpo humano tenía que tener de forma obligada una ayuda exógena, algún tipo de estimulante que pudiera hacer que el cuerpo produciera más testosterona y al mismo tiempo darle otras proteínas al cuerpo, trabajó años en un esteroide que tuvo efectos, no de hormona exógena, si no más bien hacer que el cerebro obligara al cuerpo a producir 100 veces más testosterona. Francisco consiguió crear esa fórmula que estimulaba el cerebro para la producción de testosterona a los 35 años, realmente algo rápido, comenzó a experimentar con ratas de laboratorio, pero había un problema, aunque la substancia hacia en los sujetos de prueba lo que se suponía, que era un aumento drástico en la masa muscular, también había ciertos efectos secundarios, el menos peligroso era un gran aumento en el deseo sexual, los sujetos de prueba demostraban un gran apetito sexual, si el ratón estaba acompañado no importaba si era macho o hembra el ratón acompañante, el que estaba lleno del suero experimental follaba a su pareja hasta que el ratón normal fallecía. El segundo era que después de unos días el cuerpo del ratón inyectado colapsaba, al parecer el cuerpo de la criatura no aguantaba el ritmo acelerado al generar testosterona de forma tan rápida. Entonces si el cuerpo podía aguantar así por unos días había una posibilidad de que pudiera todo esto tener éxito, solo había que buscar una forma en qué el cuerpo se pudiera aclimatar al cambio desenfrenado de producción de testosterona, ya la aceleración del metabolismo. Francisco pensó en varias opciones, pero una más improbable que la anterior, en este mundo, no había nada parecido a lo que él quisiera recrear, sus investigaciones quedaron estancadas conforme el tiempo pasó y la fórmula de su esteroide la guardó, le dió más importancia otros proyectos para poder sustentar su investigación más adelante, mientras aparecía alguna forma en la cuál cumplir lo que él siempre había deseado. Con el paso del tiempo Francisco se hizo de una gran riqueza, su talento en la rama de la farmacología le ayudó generando bastantes medicamentos innovadores pero costosos que lo catapultaron a la cima, a la edad de 42 años con la trayectoria que ya tenía y toda su experiencia en el ramo, incluso decidió ampliar sus conocimientos a la ingeniería genética. Efectivamente, lo que necesitaba Francisco estaba en esa área, todos los conocimientos que empezó a usarlos en su proyecto que había abandonado, solo tenía que crear un organismo simbionte, no tenía que ser inteligente, solo tenía que poder unirse y ayudar al cuerpo humano con el proceso de aceleración de su suero, y recrear las funciones básicas de cualquier ser vivo con excepción de la reproducción. Fueron años de experimentos hasta que Francisco por fin logró su cometido, en un contenedor yacía una mancha azul obscuro moviéndose de forma rara, arrastrándose por un gran contenedor una criatura viscosa y que parecía haber salido de una película de terror, pero Francisco sabía que no era así, era el siguiente paso para combatir el avance del desgaste del cuerpo humano, esta criatura había sido diseñada por él, y de hecho Francisco había usado algo de su sangre para asegurar la compatibilidad con su nueva creación, así q nadie más que él podría ocupar a aquel ser que había creado.
  11. Francisco era un hombre ya maduro, alrededor de los 52 años, un hombre de cuerpo lampiño y cabello negro, ya tenía canas en su cabellera, aúnque aún el color oscuro predominaba, bigote bien cuidado, su forma física era buena, era alguien fornido, se veía q en su juventud había sido alguien que siempre estuvo en buena forma, sus brazos robustos aún se veían un poco en forma era el dueño de una empresa farmacéutica, su vida y sus investigaciones las había dedicado por mucho tiempo a encontrar la forma de pelear contra el avance de la edad, había estudiado posibilidades infinitas, la constante de saber el desgaste continuo del cuerpo era la falta de la capacidad célular de regeneración, pero... ¿Y si hubiera alguna forma de apoyar esa regeneración?... Francisco se obsesionó desde joven con ese tema, no paraba de desvelarse durante noches, estudiando componentes que pudieran ayudar a esos procesos, hasta que al llegar a la edad de los 30 llegó a la conclusión que era importante darle especial atención al ejercicio y a la alimentación. Darle al cuerpo una dosis extra de proteínas concentradas y también testosterona en el caso de los hombres era esencial para poder hacer que el cuerpo humano estuviera en óptimas condiciones, a nivel célular era lo ideal para poder hacer que todo estuviera como una máquina perfectamente afinada. Pero no era suficiente, aún el desgaste avanzaba y ahí fue cuando Francisco entendió que el cuerpo humano tenía que tener de forma obligada una ayuda exógena, algún tipo de estimulante que pudiera hacer que el cuerpo produciera más testosterona y al mismo tiempo darle proteínas adicionales al cuerpo, trabajó años en un esteroide que tuviera efectos, no de hormona exógena, si no más bien hacer que el cerebro obligara al cuerpo a producir 100 veces más testosterona. Francisco consiguió crear aquella formula que estimulaba el cerebro para la producción de testosterona a los 35 años, realmente algo rápido, empezó a experimentar con ratas de laboratorio, pero había un problema, aunque la substancia hacia en los sujetos de prueba lo que se suponía, que era un aumento drástico en la masa muscular, también había ciertos efectos secundarios, el menos peligroso era un gran aumento en el deseo sexual, los sujetos de prueba demostraban un gran apetito sexual, si el ratón estaba acompañado no importaba si era macho o hembra el ratón acompañante, el que estaba lleno del suero experimental follaba a su pareja hasta que el ratón normal fallecía. El segundo era que después de unos días el cuerpo del ratón inyectado colapsaba, al parecer el cuerpo de la criatura no aguantaba el ritmo acelerado al generar testosterona de forma tan rápida. Entonces si el cuerpo podía aguantar así por unos días había una posibilidad de que pudiera todo esto tener éxito, solo había que buscar una forma en qué el cuerpo se pudiera aclimatar al cambio desenfrenado de producción de testosterona, y a la aceleración del metabolismo. Francisco pensó en varias opciones, pero una más improbable que la anterior, en este mundo, no había nada parecido a lo que él quisiera recrear, sus investigaciones quedaron estancadas conforme el tiempo pasó y la fórmula de su esteroide la guardó, le dió más importancia otros proyectos para poder sustentar su investigación más adelante, mientras aparecía alguna forma en la cuál cumplir lo que él siempre había deseado. Con el paso del tiempo Francisco se hizo de una gran riqueza, su talento en la rama de la farmacología le ayudó generando bastantes medicamentos innovadores pero costosos que lo catapultaron a la cima, a la edad de 42 años con la trayectoria que ya tenía y toda su experiencia en el ramo, incluso decidió ampliar sus conocimientos a la ingeniería genética. Efectivamente, lo que necesitaba Francisco estaba en esa área, todos los conocimientos que tenía empezó a usarlos en su proyecto que había abandonado, solo tenía que crear un organismo simbionte, no tenía que ser inteligente, solo tenía que poder unirse y ayudar al cuerpo humano con el proceso de aceleración de su suero, y recrear las funciones básicas de cualquier ser vivo con excepción de la reproducción. Fueron años de experimentos hasta que Francisco por fin logró su cometido, en un contenedor yacía una mancha azul obscuro moviéndose de forma rara, arrastrándose por un gran contenedor una criatura viscosa y que parecía haber salido de una película de terror, pero Francisco sabía que no era así, era el siguiente paso para combatir el avance del desgaste del cuerpo humano, esta criatura había sido diseñada por él, y de hecho Francisco había usado algo de su sangre para asegurar la compatibilidad con su nueva creación, así q nadie más que él podría ocupar a aquel ser que había creado.
  12. Hey guys! First time posting a story! Probably going to be at least 5-6 parts. I added a lot of extreme tags because the story will head in that direction eventually but there isn't any of that in this first chapter. I know its a lot of exposition but hopefully it will be a worthwhile payoff Any feedback is appreciated! ---------------- CHAPTER 1------------------ Evan looked around Fitness Depot, a bustling brawling gym in a suburb of Chicago. It was crowded as usual, but with membership being $100/month and a distinct aroma of sweat and b.o., it mainly attracted a clientele of big sweaty muscle beasts. Not to say that there weren’t wealthy twinks and chubs who came for the exclusivity, but Evan never paid attention to those guys. He always had his eyes on one man – Corey. Corey was one of the very few professional competitive bodybuilders at the gym. With Evan’s flexible schedule, he’d managed to time out his workouts with Corey many times, considering that Corey went at the exact same time every day. To be clear – Evan had never spoken to Corey and Corey would probably struggle to identify Evan out of a lineup. But watching Corey lift was like free porn to Evan. He’d watch Corey bench 150 pound dumbbells while he pushed as hard as he could with the 50s in his hands across the gym floor. Corey would deadlift 7 plates on each side while Evan would shakily manage 2. Evan wasn’t weak but Corey was at the peak of his game – a true muscle god. Evan desperately wanted Corey to notice him but there were two huge obstacles. One – Corey was straight. Of course, any bodybuilder has to have a certain amount of “appreciation” for another male’s “physique” but Corey would go as far as to block gay followers on Instagram who would solicit him and would most certainly be disgusted if Evan made an advance. The second obstacle…Corey was married. His wife was a fitness model, not jacked like Corey but toned and always ready for swimsuit season. Sometimes his wife would come to train with him even, and she would sit on the leg press sled while he pushed. Or grab his waist while he did pullups. This made Evan insanely jealous. But all that was about to change. Recently, Evan’s grandfather had passed away, and while sorting through his belongings, Evan found a slip of paper that read “Watson’s Shop of Spells, Potions, and Miracles.” There was an address – Evan had plugged it into google maps and it led to an empty field in Illinois. But curiosity got the best of him, and he had headed out to the rural farmland, cautiously parking his car under the shade of a few trees. Getting out of the car, Evan could see there was no sign of any activity around him. He took out the piece of paper and held it to the light to make sure he had gotten the address correct. Suddenly, the paper grew hotter and hotter and eventually lit on fire. Evan jumped back and screamed, throwing the paper on the ground. As the piece of paper hit the ground, the ground around him began to shake. Evan started walking back towards his car, tempted to just jump in and get the hell out of there, when he saw pillars begin to emerge from the ground. He looked around, as if to see if anyone else could vouch for what was happening, but he was about 5 miles from the main road so there was truly no one around. Eventually, a little one story shopfront made its way from under the earth and he could see a neon sign light up – “Watson’s.” The shaking stopped and Evan just stared at the shop, mouth gaping and drooling. An old man emerged from the shop and waved with a big smile. “Hello, Evan! Glad to see you made it out here! Come on in!” Evan was too stunned for words. He took one cautious step towards the shop. “That’s it – one foot after the other. Come over and let me pinch you, I promise you’re not dreaming.” “You…know who I am?” Evan sputtered. “Yes, I’ve been expecting you. It’s been a long time since your grandfather came to visit…I was hoping there would be more of the family line to come.” “So you knew my grandfather?” Evan asked. “Yes…in fact I’ve known every male in your bloodline for the past two thousand years!” That would explain why Evan’s mother never mentioned this, Evan mused to himself. “But why?” “Your ancestor sacrificed his life to save mine a long time ago. I’m immortal now, but I wasn’t then. Since I couldn’t return the favor to him, I made it a mission to grant one favor to every generation of your family forever.” “One…favor?” “Come on in, Evan. I’ll help explain.” Watson held the door open and Evan slowly walked in. What he saw inside almost made him faint. Although the shopfront looked pretty meager on the outside, it was sprawling and infinite inside. Rows and rows of books, vials, syringes, pills, plants, even some strange living animals, lined the sides. And the ceiling was so high, Evan couldn’t see the top. He even took several steps in and out of the shop to confirm that it was 15ft tall on the outside, and at least several thousand feet tall inside. “Don’t hurt your brain trying to figure this out – I’m a magician and wizard and that’s all you need to worry about” Watson said with a wink. “So…what now?” Evan asked. Part of him still wanted to run out of there but for some reason every word out of Watson’s mouth calmed and soothed him. “Well, let’s figure out what I can do for you. I gave your grandfather a lot of business success. Made sure he made a profit every year, and it seems to have paid off. You look healthy.” He chuckled to himself with satisfaction. So that’s why Evan’s grandfather had made such a huge fortune selling something as innocuous as pens and pencils. It had always seemed a fluke, but Evan had just thought his grandfather was a uniquely talented salesman. In a way, it disappointed him that magic was behind the family finances, but he quickly let go of the thought once he realized something good was potentially waiting for him. “Ah, I see that you’ve realized it’s your lucky day, Evan.” Watson observed. “Should I…browse?” Evan stammered. “Well you could, but you’d probably be here for decades trying to sort through what I’ve got. It may be easier if you tell me something you want or need.” An image of Corey appeared in Evan’s mind. “Well there’s this guy at the gym…” “Yes, Corey. He’s been in the back of your mind this whole conversation, I’ve noticed.” “You can read my mind? “Oh it’s not so complicated. You ever think out loud? Well, it’s just like that only I hear your thoughts that you don’t say out loud too.” “I mean, its dumb, he’s straight and married so it doesn’t even matter…” “Nonsense. I can fix any problem for you Evan. I actually know just the thing…” Watson winked and suddenly disappeared. Evan stood there for a second, suddenly becoming afraid of the silence and the distant shrieks of strange creatures. But Watson was only gone for 10 seconds, and he poofed back into existence right in front of Evan. He was holding something that looked like a red perfume bottle. “This will fix your Corey problem easily.” “What…what is it?” “It’s a potion that makes you irresistible, even to a brick wall. One or two sprays of this, and Corey will cum at the sight of you.” Evan blushed hearing Watson be so vulgar. “We already established I can read your mind, boy. So no need to be ashamed of any stray thoughts.” Evan tried to think through the dangers. “But won’t it make everyone around me attracted to me? I don’t want everyone’s attention.” “Don’t worry, it only works on someone when you mix their DNA into the potion.” “Their DNA?” “Yeah, we’re talking spit, sweat, hair, urine, sometimes even a fingerprint can have some DNA. Shouldn’t be too hard to collect something like that at the gym, no?” Watson grinned. Evan thought about how Corey never wipes down his equipment and in fact, he had used a bench after Corey for the sole purpose of basking in his sweat, so it wouldn’t be difficult at all. Watson gave one warning: “You don’t need to use too much of it, or there might be some erratic consequences.” “Consequences?” “Well, lust and attraction have many depths to them. Too much, and he might start to lose his individuality.” Evan pondered that explanation for a moment. Watson quickly chimed back in – “I have no judgement of what you do with this potion. I’m not a good or evil entity. I am simply fulfilling a debt I owe your family. So the power is quite literally in your hands now.” All of a sudden there was a huge lightning flash and Evan found himself standing in front of his car by an empty field as if nothing had happened. That was two days ago. Evan looked around the gym as he clutched the bottle of perfume in his hand. He finally found what he needed – Corey doing squats in the corner. “Bingo.”
  13. Escribí esta historia rápida, sencilla y corta. La intención era enfocar la historia desde el punto de vista del deterioro del alfa. Contiene comparación de tamaño, cambio de roles, cambios físicos, escena de humillación (suave) y m/m. Espero les guste. YA NO ERES EL ALPHA, GORDITO PARTE 1. Cerveza, papas fritas con cheddar, frituras, tacos, snacks… varias personas te venían diciendo que podrías ponerte gordo si continuabas descuidando tus hábitos alimenticios. Pero tu, desestimadas aquellos comentarios y te reías, estabas muy confiado en que tu metabolismo podría seguir resolviendolo muy bien. Pero esos descuidos reiterados una y otra vez, empezaron a hacer evidenciar las primeras consecuencias. Estabas equivocado si creÍas que tu metabolismo seguía siendo el mismo de cuando tenías 20 años. Bueno, quizá un kilito mas ni se notaría. Y una noche, tu cabeza hizo el click. Estabas llegando tarde a una cita que habías conseguido con esas aplicaciones del teléfono, con una hermosa mujer blonda, de sensuales y prominentes curvas tal como te encantaban. Te duchaste, te perfumaste proyectando en tener una gran noche íntima. Pero un percance que no estaba en tu radar te demoró unos cuantos minutos. ¡Pero que pasaba con ese maldito cierre?! Estuviste luchando con la cremallera de ese jean favorito que te tanto te gustaba, y que guardabas para ocasiones especiales. A duras penas podía contener tu piernas un poco regordetas. Y la camisa, ya no marcaba esos musculosos, esos brazos fuertes y tonificados, ni esa espalda en V que volvía locas a las muchachas en la universidad cuando te veían pasar por el pasillo. Pero tu ego, tu excesivo ego, te cegó del problema. La cena en el restaurant con la mujer fue positiva, pero el problema surgió al momento de intimar, cuando te quitaste la ropa. Ella no pudo ocultar su cara de desaprobación, y fue duramente sincera. El muchacho que tenía enfrente no coincidía con exactitud al muchacho de la foto que mostraba el perfil de la aplicación, y te lo hizo saber: “No eres lo que esperaba. Te ves.. gordito, y yo me esperaba un hombro musculoso y marcado. No te ofendas, pero no eres mi tipo” Ella se vistió rápidamente, salió a la calle y se tomó el primer taxi que pasó. Aquel comentario perforó tan hondo en tus entrañas que desdibujó por completo a tu sonrisa arrogante. Apenas se fue, te acercaste al espejo mas cercano y ahí te diste de cuenta de eso. Aquel kilito insignificante que habías minimizado en su momento, ya no era uno… ni eran dos, ni tres. Eran mucho mas. No lo habías querido ver, pero tu cuerpo, tu templo sagrado motivo de orgullo… se venía derrumbando, y tu exceso de confianza no te lo estaba dejando ver. Flexionaste, y donde hubo abdominales marcados, ahora solo había una barriga en su lugar. Poco quedaba de aquel muchacho fornido y musculoso veinteañero. Confundido y alarmado, te seguiste mirando y tocando tu cuerpo frente al espejo como si fuese uno ajeno. Tus pectorales ya no tenían la firmeza de antes, ahora estaban blando recubiertos por una pequeña capa de grasa.. y tus brazos ya no tenían aquel aspecto voluminoso y a la vez fuerte, que tanto te gustaba presumir cuando eras el capitán del equipo de rugby en la universidad. Por unos momentos, sentiste como si el mundo se derrumbara. Te desplomaste en el sillón. Te pusiste a hacer zapping para olvidar el mal momento, y en cuanto tu estomago gruñó de hambre, te levantaste para ir a la cocina. Abriste la puerta del refrigerador y solo había algunas botellas de cerveza, unos tacos que habían quedado del mediodía, un sandwich.. pero nada de verduras. No importa, tenías hambre y no estabas de humor, asi que te lo llevaste contigo. Y al pasar por la sala, te detuviste en un estante negro del que colgaban tus medallas y trofeos, tus logros deportivos universitarios, y junto a todo eso, también habia una foto que retrataba los tiempos de aquel muchacho que supo ser un alfa. Te recostaste en el sillón a calmar tu apetito con ese taco, y mientras tragabas mas mirabas esa foto, y mas momentos recordabas de aquella época. Finalmente parecías estar digiriendo la realidad; estabas fuera de forma con algunos kilos de mas y es que en efecto, aunque no habías cambiado nada en tus hábitos, tu metabolismo ya no era el mismo a tus 35 años, que cuando tenias 18. Abruptamente, despegaste tu cola del sillón y proclamaste firmemente en que desde mañana mismo comenzarías el gimnasio para resurgir como el alfa que supiste ser años atrás. Y en la mañana misma, lo primero que hiciste después de un saludable y proteico desayuno con huevos, fue ir hasta el Mall para comprar ropa deportiva. Preferiste un talle adicional para disimular esos kilitos de mas en el gimnasio, ya habría tiempo de usar mas adelante musculosas ajustadas. Pero primero, querías perder esos kilos de mas, aplanar el vientre y recuperar algo de la masa muscular perdida. La operación “el resurgimiento del ave Fénix” estaba comenzando. PARTE 2 Tenías todo listo; la vestimenta, el bolso con toalla y ropa limpia, la botella de agua, y la actitud. La secretaria en la entrada te entregó la tarjeta para ingresar y amablemente te indicó que sigas derecho por el pasillo, donde estaría el instructor para darte la ficha personal. Mientras atravesabas por la sala de musculación, se te vino a la cabeza aquella época universitaria en la que pasabas tus horas libres entrenando en el gimnasio, cargando pesos pesados y llamando naturalmente la atención de los otros muchachos, que te veían con cierta envidia. Amabas quitarte la camiseta para presumir tus músculos y lograr que todas las miradas se dirijan hacia ti, pero ahora, ahora no sentías aquella confianza. Miraste alrededor, y en un rincón encontraste a alguien de espalda, en cuya polo podía leerse “gym monitor”. Tampoco hubiese sido muy difícil identificarlo con esa tremenda espalda ancha que claramente destacaba. Te paraste detrás de él y lanzaste un tímido saludo, pero el instructor no advirtió tu presencia. Estaba sentado, ocupado coqueteando con dos chicas de curvas sensuales que estaban divirtiendose tocando los gruesos biceps del muchacho. Volviste a intentarlo, y esta vez con un volumen mas alto y tocándole el hombro. “Hola, soy nuevo. La secretaria me dijo que usted me daría la ficha pers…” “Bueno, sigan entrenando, hermosas.. seguiremos luego” y con un guiño de ojo las dejó delirando en llamas. El muchacho se puso de pie, elevando su magnifico torso hacia arriba y se giró con fastidio tras verse interrumpido su coqueteo. Tu cara quedó en shock en cuanto viste ese rostro, con esa barba masculina, prolija, y el tamaño de ese hombre. Era media cabeza mas alto que tu, así que posiblemente esté bordeando el metro noventa cinco. Él inclinó su cabeza y extendió su mano para saludar. “Si, ya te alcanzo una ficha. Soy Alan. Alan Ruiz” dijo con voz de macho Y apenas escuchaste ese nombre, tu rostro se puso pálido. No. No podías ser él! estabas en shock “Como es tu nombre, eh GORDITO?” Respiraste aliviado, él no parece haberte reconocido. “Pablo…” “y apellido?” “Galeano” pronunciaste muy tímidamente, y mientras él anotaba en la ficha, tu mirada fue hacia los abultados biceps del entrenador. Esa polo se veía exigida para contener ese cuerpo. “Pablo Galeano, me dijiste??”. El hombre levantó la mirada y te miró atentamente. “Espera un momento...creo que te conozco de algún lugar” GLUUUP. Se te secó la garganta con los nervios de ese incómodo momento. Rogabas que no te recuerde, pero tu temor se hizo realidad. “Tu no estudiabas en la universidad Campo Oeste? aaaah ya te recuerdo, tu eras el capitán del equipo de rugby” GLUUUP. La situación se tornaba mas incómoda. Ese hombre musculoso que tenías frente a tus ojos, era el pequeño nerd de quien tu, y tus amigos, se burlaban por ser gordito. Además, parecía haber pegado un estirón porque en ese tiempo él tenía menos estatura que ti. “Heey Pablito, como te ha ido?” dijo con un tono mas amistoso Te dió una palmada en el hombro, y aunque no lo había hecho con fuerza, logró desestabilizar tu postura. Te cruzó el brazo por detrás del cuello, y podías sentir su pesado antebrazo apoyado sobre tus trapecios. Te guió hacia un rincón de la sala de musculación, y te pidió que subas a la báscula, hacia mucho tiempo que no te pesabas. Apenas apoyaste los pies, los números en el visor fueron avanzando, y a medida que seguian subiendo, tus nervios también aumentaban. 67...75...79… 84… GLUUUP 86… 89… En tu mente, rogabas desesperadamente que esos números se detengan ya. Que avergonzante! Pasaste la barrera de los 90 kilos, y esos números aún no se detenían. “95 kilos… uff.. vaya Pablito, parece que el capitán del equipo ahora esta bastante gordito, eh. Has estado comiendo bastante bien” Y como si la situacion aún no fuese lo suficientemente humillante, él te levantó la camiseta y hundió su dedo reiteradamente sobre tu grasa abdominal, donde antes había abdominales marcados. “Hmm que dirían esas porristas si te vieran asi de gordo ahora?…Ellas estaban locas por ti, suspiraban cada vez que te veían pasar por los pasillos” Te agitó la barriga como si fueras un juguete de gelatina y se rió viendo como la onda expansiva de los temblores hacian mover la grasita acumulada en lo que fueron tus firmes pectorales. Nunca antes habías sentido vergüenza de ese modo. El primer entrenamiento te resultó agotador, no tenías aliento ni para quejarte, y tu rendimiento fue inferior a lo que esperabas; no pudiste levantar ni la mitad de los pesos que solías cargar en tus años universitarios. Y encima, él se acercaba cada tanto y te decía comentarios como “hasta mi abuelita levanta mas peso que eso”. El mamut, probablemente pueda levantar facilmente 3 o 4 veces mas peso que ese. Entraste a las duchas del vestuario, que ya estaban desérticas porque era tarde y en unos pocos minutos el gimnasio cerraría. Y mientras el agua tibia y la espuma del jabón se deslizaba sobre tu cuerpo, tu cabeza no dejaba de pensar en como ese gordito nerd de quien se burlaban, ahora esté dotado de un físico digno de la portada de las revistas fitness. Te envolviste la toalla en la cintura al salir de la ducha, y para tu sorpresa te encontraste con Alan sin su polo, flexionando los músculos frente al espejo. “Heey gordito.. ¿Que te parecen estos biceps? se ven enormes verdad?”. Se acercó a ti, con esos abdominales tallados, esos pectorales carnosos pero firmes, hombros redondeados, y flexionó sus voluminosos brazos frente a tus ojos, pero tu no sabías que contestarle. Ni en tu mejor momento físico habías conseguido unos brazos anchos como esos. “¿Porque no me ayudas a medir a estos bebé?” te pidió con una sonrisa engreída sabiendo que la medición daría un número muy generoso. Le hiciste caso y envolviste la cinta métrica que te dió alrededor de su biceps flexionado “Y bien? cuanto miden?” preguntó ansioso. “56 centimetros..” dictaminaste tímidamente. “CUANTO?!” volvió a re-preguntar con una sonrisa arrogante que se extendía entre sus mejillas. Él lo había escuchado perfectamente, pero solo quería que tu volvieras a repetirlo para presumir del tamaño. “56” respondiste nuevamente con un tono mas elevado “Heeey, se ven impresionantes verdad?. Estos bebé no paran de crecer hahaha… Acércate, ¿porque no los tocas? Vamos.. no seas tímido, gordito” No querías hacerlo, pero él insistió para que lo hagas. Extendiste tus brazos para apoyar las palmas de tus manos sobre los fenomenales biceps del monitor. Empezaste a tocarlos, y a frotarlos un poco.. no podías creer lo duro que se sentían esos brazos, mientras el sonreía orgullosamente. Y luego deslizaste tus manos hacia sus hombros redondeados, y sentiste esos pectorales carnosos pero firmes. “Parece que te gusta, eh?” “Que dices?!” protestaste indignado. Alan señaló hacia abajo, hacia el bulto que se estaba hinchando debajo de la toalla que cubria tu cintura. Si!, estabas teniendo una erección involuntaria y que no podías disimular. Rápidamente, sonrojado, quitaste tus manos sobre él. “Hey, que pasa, gordito?”. Su sonrisa engreida parecia estar buscando una reacción. El hombre musculoso dió un paso hacia adelante, para acercarse aún mas hacia ti. Él ya estaba tan cerca, que sentiste invadido tu espacio personal, y empezaste a retroceder. El avanzaba un paso, y tu retrocedias otro… hasta que tu espalda chocó contra el frio metal de los lockers. Él extendió sus brazos para apoyarlos contra los lockers y tu quedaste atrapado entre ellos, sus brazos y sus torsos. Te ponías mas nervioso a cada segundo.. no sabías que estaba pasando, ni cuales serían sus intenciones. “pero que haces?!” “Solo estamos jugando un poco, ¿no te gusta jugar conmigo?” te susurró al oido con un tono masculino y erótico, mientras acercaba sus labios a los tuyos “Pero que estas haciendo??! Yo no soy gay!” Intentaste escapar.. ¡Que iluso! Tu fuerza no era suficiente ni para desplazar un centímetro de los brazos del grandote, que te mantenían cautivo contra los lockers. El se rió, y apretó su torso aún mas contra el tuyo, con mas fuerza. Ya podías sentir sus pectorales presionando contra tu cara. “...Tu cuerpo no dice lo mismo” Y en ese instante sentiste su cálida mano sumergirse sobre tu toalla. Sentiste como sus dedos gruesos envolvian a tu tronco erecto, y en cuanto él comenzó a frotarlo lentamente hacia arriba y hacia abajo, empezaste a entrar en un trance placentero. También él. “No te resista mas, putito… te encanta esto” Él agarró tus manos, y las sumergió en su short para que hagas lo mismo. Tu mano envolvió su pene, y no podías creer lo gruesa que se sentía esa polla entre tus dedos, que con cada bombeo parecía expandirse mas. Se bajó el short y ambos quedaron quedaron completamente desnudos. Tus ojos corroboraron la sensación que habían sentido tus manos “Es grande esta polla, no?” presumió con orgullo, y acercó su pene parado frente al tuyo. Tu pene promedio de 15 centimetros se veía pequeño al lado de aquel pene grueso y largo… “Mi tronco está listo para jugar” Alan volteó tu cara contra los lockers, quedaste de espalda. Y con esa voz tan masculina y erótica a la vez te susurró al oido “Relajá esa colita, puede que te duela un poco al principio, pero tranquilo… te acostumbrarás. Y te va a encantar” La fuerza que él hacía, te mantuvo inmovilizado, y apenas empezó a hundir su generoso pene entre tus nalgas, tu voluntad de huir parecía esfumarse. Tus gemidos, mezclados entre dolor y placer, replicaban en la soledad del vestuario. Debías admitir que te había encantado. El grandote se puso su uniforme. “Ya vístete. El gimnasio cerrará en 5 minutos”. Dicho eso, se retiró por la puerta, como si nada hubiese pasado. Pero ese episodio volvió a repetirse la semana siguiente, y a la siguiente. Solamente pensar en sus gruesos y fornidos músculos te despertaban unas cosquillas deliciosas. No veías la hora de terminar de entrenar, para ir al vestuario a encontrarte con esa bestia musculosa para que te coja salvajemente. ¿Quien lo diría? Empezaste a tener citas con él; iban al cine, veían partidos de rugby, comian en restaurantes y todas las citas tenían un elemento en común; todas terminaban con sexo. Parece que te habías vuelto adicto a sentir sus músculosos y a tener sexo con él. Y hasta te mudaste a su departamento. Por otra parte, en tu primer mes habías logrado bajar 2 kilos. Él te sonrió, aunque en su mente tenía otros planes para ti. EXTRA. Lo acompañabas a los torneos de fisicoculturismo. Disfrutabas verlo flexionar sus enormes músculos en el escenario. Te calentaba verlo, y no podías esperar a que termine la competencia para tener sexo con esa bestia. Ganó otro trofeo, y a solas, el grandote el grandote te hizo un show privado para ti. Empezaste a deslizarle la lengua por su biceps y sobre sus pectorales, y le pediste permiso para tener sexo. “Todavía hay rosquillas en la caja…”. Se acercó a tu oido y te susurró “.. Comelas todas, y este toro te dará una salvaje sacudida como nunca sentiste” Caías en su encanto, y empezaste a tragar.. y a tragar, para obtener tu recompensa. Tu estomago ya estaba lleno, pero el te ayudó empujando las últimas dos rosquillas dentro de tu boca, mientras te hacia unos deliciosos masajes. “Muy bien, mi pequeño….” Alan se puso de pie, y cumplió. Poco a poco, quirúrgicamente, te fue convenciendo con que ya no era necesario que sigas yendo al gimnasio. Ahora que vivian juntos, él podía atender tus necesidades sexuales a diario. Tu llegabas de la oficina antes, y lo esperabas ansioso. Te alegraba verlo entrar por la puerta, como un perrito que espera a su amo ver llegar a la casa. El se acercó a ti, para darte unos cariñosos besos y frotarte la barriga. “Te traje tus hamburguesas favoritas.. triple con queso, cheddar y panceta...Y si comes las tres, te haré eso que tanto te gusta”. No hizo falta que termine de decir la oración, el meneo que hizo con las caderas y el gesto con la cara, lo dejaba claro Y tu obedeciste para recibir el premio sexual que aquel adonis te prometía. Sin entrenamientos y regresando a tus habitos de comida chatarra, en dos meses no solo recuperaste los 5 kilos que habías perdido, sino que además rápidamente alcanzaste la barrera de los tres dígitos. El sexo salvaje que tu hombre te daba, te mantenía distraido, mientras tu barriga avanzaba, se hacia mas redonda y prominente y ponía en jaque a las costuras de tu uniforme de trabajo. A ese ritmo, pronto necesitarías actualizar tu talle, una vez mas. “Abre grande esa boquita” dijo tu novio introduciendo un trozo de pastel a tu boca, chorreando de salsa de chocolate entre sus dedos, luego de una suculenta cena Mientras Alan sumaba mas y mas trofeos a la vitrina por su excelente estado físico, tu ganabas mas y mas kilos, pero nadie te decía nada. Una tarde, mientras dormías en el sillón, te pareció escuchar unas voces. Al abrir los ojos, estabas en lo cierto. Alan había venido acompañado de unos amigos. Todos ellos se veían musculosos y atléticos, y uno dijo; “Necesitamos uno mas para el equipo de rugby…” ¿Rugby dijo? Eso era lo tuyo. O eso creías… “Yo puedo jugar. Me encanta el rugby!” Ellos se miraron, y lanzaron una estruendosa carcajadas. Lo miraste a Alan, el único serio del grupo. “Dijo que necesitan un jugador. Cuando necesiten un balón te avisarán!. Y lanzó su risa contenida. “Tu hahaha.. tu no puedes ni correr la cortina del baño hahahah” “Pesa mas que todo el equipo hahah” se animó a decir otro. Rápidamente, los otros muchachos se fueron sumando a las bromas, con intensas risas. Todas las bromas apuntando por que estabas gordo. Incluso Alan se sumó a esas bromas. Agarraste tus cosas, e intentaste huir por la puerta. Nunca antes te habías sentido tan humillado de esa manera, corriste unos pasos y llegaste a la puerta con la respiración agitada, mientras los muchachos no paraban de reir, mientras sumaban mas burlas y sonidos de cerditos. Fueron los minutos mas humillantes que jamas hayas experimentado.. y esos fueron los últimos minutos de su relación. Ahora sentías en carne propia, lo que gordito nerd había sufrido con las burlas, que para ti y tus amigos eran divertidas.
  14. Era de mañana en el diario "El Clarín", en una de sus oficinas se encontraba Peter Parker, un chico castaño de 27 años de edad, medía 1.85 y pesaba 90 kgs. de músculo, estéticamente bien distribuido, traía puesta esa mañana una camisa blanca que se ajustaba bien a su anatomía atlética, pero sin ser demasiado llamativo, la camisa se ajustaba bien en su pecho y bíceps, también llevaba un pantalón negro de vestir y un calzado del mismo color, bien lustrado, el cuello de su camisa desabotonado solo para permitirle respirar bien y no sofocarse, pues el viaje matutino usando sus poderes para llegar al diario había sido bastante veloz, tomó las mangas de la camisa y las arremangó para dejar descubiertos sus antebrazos mientras tomaba un folder con fotos de Spiderman, se sonrió entre sí. Estos meses habían sido importantes para él, encontró un traje alien que lo había mejorado por completo, le dió más velocidad, agilidad, fuerza, músculos, y sobre todo un crecimiento en su virilidad que él en un principio no podía creer, aún recordaba cuando solo medía 1.75 y pesaba solo 70kgs., era sorprendente lo que unos meses con el traje le habían hecho, de tener un pedazo de solo 16 cms. de virilidad en erección pasó a tener un monstruo de 25 cms. No dejaba de ver sus fotos, apaleando maleantes la noche anterior, era magnífico, pensaba en el puesto que estaba compitiendo en ese momento como fotógrafo de planta, el otro hombre definitivamente no tenía oportunidad, dió un sorbo a su café mientras seguía sentado y vió la puerta de entrada de la oficina. Llegó alguien, justamente el hombre que no tenía oportunidades contra Parker, era nada más y nada menos que su compañero de oficina, Eddie Brock. Eddie era ya un hombre de 37 años de edad, a pesar de ser mayor en edad que Peter, se veía más joven, era rubio, de cabello corto, facciones joviales, ojos azules y totalmente lampiño, la vida no le había favorecido, nunca tuvo oportunidad de ejercitarse, ni hacer dietas u otro tipo de cosas debido a su físico, medía tan solo 1,65 cms de alto y pesaba tan solo 60kgs., definitivamente no imponía de ninguna forma, todo mundo le pasaba por encima y últimamente alguien en especial. El pobre Eddie llegó agitado y sudando a la oficina, con su maletín color café a un lado. Eddie estaba vestido con una camisa de color azul cielo que resaltaba aquellos ojos suyos, un pantalón café y calzado del mismo color, todo se hubiera visto bien de no ser por que todo le quedaba grande, a excepción del calzado, la camisa le colgaba de los laterales, y ni que decir de los hombros y las mangas, daba la impresión de que un niño se había vestido con la ropa de su padre, debido a ello nunca tuvo oportunidad de ligar con alguien en su vida. Mientras aún respiraba de manera agitada veía a Parker bastante fresco y seguro de su persona. Eddie se cuestionaba cómo era posible que Parker estaba así si vivía más lejos que él del trabajo, a pesar de tener cierto recelo al castaño, lo saludó ... - Hola, buenos días Parker - Se oyó su voz algo aguda, parecía la voz de un joven de 15 años. - ¿Cómo le haces para llegar antes que yo, si yo vivo más cerca? Peter lo miró de reojo y sonriendo mientras tomaba su café, le dijo: - Por que me levanto más temprano que tú, "amiguito". Eddie miró a Parker, notó que el castaño había mejorado mucho su físico en los últimos meses, sabía que eso no era normal en una persona, además Eddie siempre peleaba por entrar en el bus de la primera hora, mínimo debería que ver a Parker en el transporte o llegar al mismo tiempo si es que Peter tomaba el bus de otra ruta. Eddie terminó por mejor dejar de pensar en ello y se metió al baño para refrescarse un poco, aún así no podía dejar de sentirse frustrado, al salir vio al Sr. Jameson hablando con Peter y solo dijo él: - Hola Sr ... Jameson y Parker vieron al rubio de reojo y siguieron en su plática ... si, literalmente lo habían ignorado. Parker le mostró al jefe sus fotos de Spiderman, Jameson quedó satisfecho como siempre con aquellas fotografías, las tomó y se fue sin decir nada, Peter vio al rubio de nuevo ... -Vaya, de nuevo se te fue el avión del éxito " amiguito ". - El castaño volvió a tomar su café y a darle un sorbo mientras se recargaba en el rubio y lo veía como poca cosa - No te preocupes Eddie, siempre debe haber un segundón para que el primer lugar brille más y descuida, cuando me den el puesto , serás mi "asistonto", te lo aseguro. El rubio apretó su puño y saco su hombro del contacto de Parker para después tomar su maletín y probar suerte en la ciudad por unas fotografías. Peter solo lo vió: -Bye "pequeñín". Oye cuando vuelvas de pasear tráeme un café ... - El castaño sonrió mientras veía salir al rubio -Pobre Eddie, casi me da pena el pobre, pero bueno, no puede competir con un súper hombre como yo ... Parker se quedó de ocioso en la oficina mientras esperaba que fuera más tarde para la hora de la comida, total, al final sabía que en la noche tomaría sus fotos, mientras tanto cuando Eddie salía ... - Maldito parker, su actitud ha cambiado , es un pedante ahora- murmuraba el rubio mientras iba a su lugar secreto dentro del diario, era un cubículo abandonado y muy reducido, solo tenía espacio para una silla y unas cuantas cosas, Eddie entró y activó su radio clandestino de la policía mientras seguía pensando en Parker - solo por que ha cambiado su físico y tiene suerte con las fotos me trata así. Ya se había hecho tarde y Parker tenía hambre ya: - ¡Maldición Brock !, ¡¿Dónde te metiste?!, Sabes que quiero mi comida a cierta hora, maldito enano. - Peter salió de la oficina bastante enojado y se dirigió a la calle para comprar algo y así calmar su apetito, ya pudiendo comprar algo se tranquilizó un poco, pero seguía molesto debido a que aún consumiendo lo que había comprado, su hambre no desaparecía. - Comí demasiado y aún tengo hambre, no lo entiendo, ¡¿Por qué me está pasando esto ?! - El castaño empezaba a enfadarse más, pero en ese momento comenzó a activarse su sentido arácnido. - Sí, lo que me faltaba- se fue a un callejón oscuro y metió su ropa de civil en una bolsa de telaraña -Vamos a perseguir a los chicos malos y a tomar fotos. Mientras tanto Brock salía a toda prisa, escuchó sobre un asalto a un banco cercano y salió disparado del diario, directo a la acción. Al salir vió al mismo tiempo a Spiderman ir hacia la escena del crimen, no era lejos, Brock corrió lo más deprisa que podía, pero llegó demasiado tarde, al estar ya en el lugar solo vio cómo Spiderman salía de escena y varios criminales envueltos en telaraña, pegados a los postes de luz, el rubio se sintió fatal, otra escena de acción se le había escapado. - Maldición, así no lograré nada. Tomó fotos de lo que podía y regresó al diario lo más pronto que pudo, tenía en mente lograr ofrecer sus fotos antes de que Parker apareciera, aunque era muy raro, Peter nunca estaba en la escena y aún así conseguía fotos. Al llegar a la oficina se sorprendió, Parker ya estaba ahí, entregándole varias fotos a Jameson. Brock veía como su oportunidad se desvanecía mientras el jefe entraba a su oficina con Peter detrás de él, el pequeño rubio solo se sentó en su escritorio bastante agitado de tanto correr y entonces ... -¡¡¡Brock !!! Parker gritó como si fuera el jefe al entrar en su oficina compartida, mientras que el rubio solo lo veía con enfado y Parker cerraba de un portazo el lugar y Eddie lo cuestionó. -No sé cómo le haces ... Tú estabas aquí en la oficina y vuelves con fotos y no estás cansado ... - Peter se acercaba poco a poco a Brock que aún seguía agitado, pero confrontándolo, el rubio no sabía si eso era una buena idea o no, pero ya lo estaba haciendo. -¡¿Qué quieres Parker ?! -¡¿Qué quiero?! - Parker sonrió con algo de burla, y así tomó del cuello de la camisa con ambas manos a Brock, levantándolo del suelo, mientras el rubio veía como los pectorales, bíceps y antebrazos del castaño se tensaban en la camisa. - Esas no son maneras de contestarle a tu futuro jefe .- Parker acercó su cara a la del rubio - ¡¿Porqué olvidaste mi comida, maldito enano ?! -¿Cu ... cuál comida ?, No me pe ... pe ... pediste na..nada, solo un café... si regresaba, pero ... - ¡Cállate !, Deja de balbucear como estúpido , sabes que si te pido algo tienes que traer eso y más, en todo caso no me trajiste ¡Nada !, Eso no es de buenos amigos. ¿Oh si? Pequeño charal sudoroso. Las venas del antebrazo de Parker estaban dilatadas debido al tiempo de mantener suspendido al rubio. - Tú ... Tú no eras así .... ¿Que te pasó? - Dijo el rubio algo asustado y triste mientras el semblante de Parker cambiaba de ser agresivo a estar algo fuera de sí, soltando a Brock y dejándolo caer al suelo. - Yo ... Yo ..., Vete por comida y no tardes - El castaño le lanzó billetes en la cara a Brock - Hazlo ya ... Después de eso el rubio se arrastró por el suelo, tomó el dinero y salió disparado de la oficina, pero aún le temblaban algo las piernas. - Maldito Parker. ¿Qué se creé el idiota? No, mejor no lo hago enojar más, no se qué más me podría hacer - El rubio vuelve con una ensalada y pechuga de pollo asada, no había tardado nada en verdad. - Ahí tienes Parker, que te aproveche.- Eddie no pudo evitar decirlo con un tono algo desafiante. - Ya era hora - Mientras tanto Peter no prestó atención al tono de Brock, estaba tan hambriento que solo le importaba la comida, el rubio de lejos veía cómo Peter comía, parecía ansioso y desesperado, como un animal salvaje, incluso soltaba unos cuantos gruñidos , así que prefirió salir e ir al baño, mientras tanto solo pensaba en la conducta de Parker durante los últimos meses, se dirigió al baño del piso, abrió la puerta y se dirigió a uno de los mingitorios. Desenfundó su pedazo de carne, solo medía 8 cms., Y eso si fuera erecto, en reposo solo eran 5 cms, así es, el rubio era pequeño hasta en eso. Mientras orinaba y sentía pena por si mismo oyó abrirse la puerta del baño, para su desgracia era nada más y nada menos que Peter que lo observaba, el castaño comenzó a olfatear, cómo si oliera algo en el ambiente y mientras hacía eso su pantalón de vestir marcaba la gran erección de Parker, el pedazo caliente de 25 cms. de su entrepierna, estaba al máximo. - Aaaaahhhh- el castaño parecía apreciar algún olor. - Aquí huele ... - Dijo el castaño acercándose a Brock. -¿Qué quieres decir con eso? - Eddie guardó su falo y subió la bragueta de su pantalón, tenía un presentimiento y pensaba mejor salir lo antes posible de aquel lugar. - Seguro es el baño, está mal lavado, saldré y le diré al personal del aseo. Parker se acercó al rubio y lo tomó con bastante fuerza. - ¡Eres tú! ... ¡Tú apestas! - Parker volvió a cargar al rubio como lo había hecho ya hace rato y empezó a frotar su gran erección en la entrepierna de Eddie mientras al mismo tiempo le oprimía su pequeña hombría. -Quieres ser preñado.- El rubio estaba acorralado y se sintió indefenso, no podía ocultar su rostro de preocupación. -Parker, si ... si ... huelo así es por qué corrí mu ... mucho hoy ... Me pondré des ... desodorante para no mo ... molestarte ... - Tú quieres ser preñado- Parker parecía un animal salvaje que no razonaba. - ¡¿Preñarme?!, ¡¿A qué te refieres ?! Parker soltó a Brock pero solo para tomarlo fuertemente por la cintura. -Sabes que necesitas un macho, pequeña perra.- El castaño empezaba a merodear con su mano de forma lasciva el cuerpo del rubio aún por encima de la ropa de éste, la mano de Peter empezaba a deslizarse hacia la pelvis de Eddie, casi por tocar su hombría, pero en ese momento Parker se detuvo . - No ... No ... Esto no está bien ... No ... - Peter soltó al rubio de inmediato y salió rápidamente del baño. Eddie sudaba frío, solo en el baño, pegado a la pared aún, traumatizado, se sintió débil y frágil, sus piernas no dejaban de temblar, era la primera vez que alguien intentaba violarlo, solo pudo encogerse y quedarse en estado fetal en el piso de aquel baño.
  15. Chilis

    Pirate Adventures

    Hello everyone! This story will take a different twist after part 1. Oliver is 18 years old. Marcus is 39. The Captain is 20. This story takes place in an old time when pirates were still a thing. Hope you all like it! Feel free to leave suggestions and comments! ------------------ Part 1 The sky was clear, the tides appeared to be calm and the temperature was… well, bearable. Oliver thought that luck was finally on their side. He had boarded this ship weeks ago, and since then only disaster had followed him and the crew. Terrible storms, huge waves, assaulting rival pirates, killing mermaids and even a giant kraken. It had been days of tiring work and lots of dead, but it looked like he could finally have a break from disaster and relax. The boy pulled out a small mirror from his bag and tried to fix his hair. He had messy blonde hair, freckles and a small nose. His green eyes glanced over his face, satisfied with being somewhat adorable looking. He then looked down through the reflection and sighed. Regardless of his attractive facade, Oliver was very disappointed with his body. He was slightly athletic thanks to his sailing job, yet he still felt very skinny. If he wasn’t wearing any clothes, he could’ve seen his thin arms, his flat chest, and his rib bones showing a little. At least he had some decent abs… “What ya doin’, pretty eyes?” Oliver blinked and lost the attention on his mirror. His pal Marcus had showed up out of nowhere, putting an arm around his shoulders. The man was middle aged, ugly as they come. He was missing several teeth, had a dirty beard, and a belly so inflated that Oliver thought it would pop like a bubble at any moment. But despite his disgusting looks, the blonde boy and the hideous pirate had become friends even before boarding the ship. Marcus was fun to be around, and he had a gentle heart, always willing to help his smaller companion. “Looks like our problems are finally over, eh?” Marcus said, extending his arm towards the vast ocean. Oliver chuckled “We shouldn’t let our hopes get too high. I bet another disaster is about to hit us. This is just the sea making fun of us before it does”. “Eerr… aren’t ya a positive one” Marcus went serious all the sudden, observing the horizon “The tide Gods haven’t been generous with us this trip. But I assure you, we will reach the new lands in no time now. The Captain is making sure of it”. The blonde boy frowned “The Captain…”. Oliver had mixed feelings about the Captain. The guy was only a few years older than him, and both of them were younger than everybody in the ship. Still, Oliver was treated like a subordinate, while everyone respected the Captain in an almost religious manner. The blonde boy could see why though… The Captain’s only presence imposed respect and fear. The young man was two heads taller than Oliver, and his body was built with gigantic muscle able to crush anybody that opposed him. The Captain’s frame was lean, yet large enough to stretch out his clothes. He had long dark hair, and piercing blue eyes that sent shivers down your spine whenever you looked at them directly. One large scar went across his nose, while a smaller one decorated his chin. He was a gorgeous, yet terrifying person. Oliver had admired the Captain at first. However, as time passed in the sea, the blonde boy began to envy him. Whenever they were in trouble, the muscular man would save everyone with his powerful body. The Captain was the one that defeated all of their invading enemy pirates with merely his fists. He was the one that wrestled the kraken down. And the one that made the mermaids forget about eating them by making them fall in love with him. Meanwhile, Oliver was sent to clean and cook, unable to defend himself from all the threats, or to help his dying crew friends. “He is a brave man, that one..” said Marcus all the sudden, burping before continuing talking “I have to admit, when I met him I doubted someone so young would be able to navigate the seas. I didn’t even think he could control a whole crew!” “Well, he hasn’t gotten us to the new lands yet…” said Oliver in a low tone, but Marcus didn’t listen to him. “But I am telling ya! After seeing how heroic and strong the Captain is, I have no more doubts about him! I would follow him to the end of the world, ya know! We could all learn more from him…” Marcus seemed to be daydreaming about the young man, and that made Oliver uncomfortable. “Are you in love with him or something?” the blonde guy said, teasing his friend. Instead of being offended, Marcus bursted out laughing “HAH! Aren’t we all on this ship!? Some are saying he is even a demigod, I’m telling ya!” Oliver didn’t expect that answer. He rolled his eyes and walked away. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll see you later, I am not done mopping the main deck” More weeks passed without anything eventful happening. Oliver cleaned, mopped, and cooked as always. He felt relieved that there were no more life threatening things going on, but a new problem was starting to arise. The crew was feeling uneasy; they should've been approaching the new lands by now. However, the ship was still sailing across the vast open ocean, with no shore to be seen anytime soon. Oliver’s friends began to fear that they were going in the wrong direction, but everybody respected (or feared) the Captain too much to demand answers. Besides, the Captain was not seen around the ship much anymore, as he stayed in his cabin most of the time, unless he came out to give orders. Oliver mostly felt unbothered by the situation. Or that was until one night the crew organized a meeting to see who would go ask the Captain about the trajectory of the ship. The filthy pirates started to discuss what to do calmly at first, yet the conversation quickly turned into a heated discussion. “I am not going over there! Have you seen the arm of that man!? It’s bigger than my leg!” someone said. “You are a coward! He is our Captain, he wouldn’t hurt us for a simple question” someone else argued. “Then why don’t you go ask him!?” a third one demanded. “Anyone know if we have more whisky?” added Marcus, clearly drunk. “He deserves respect, he is a demigod! Didn’t you see how he beated up that kraken!?” another one yelled. People kept screaming and pointing fingers. Oliver was just sitting in the corner, cleaning his tiny mirror with some cloth. He listened for a while and tried to ignore the noise. The accusations and demands kept getting louder, and Oliver was feeling more frustrated by the second. The boy clenched his teeth. “Be quiet!” he said, but he was so small that nobody noticed him. He grunted in rage and stood up. “SHUT UP!” he yelled “You are all pathetic! I’ll go talk to him!!!”. This time the crew heard him, and they went silent. All eyes were on Oliver, and he immediately felt embarrassed. Then everyone started laughing. “You!? The Captain will crush you with his finger alone” one person said. “Hah! The Captain is three times your size!” another mentioned. “Seriously guys, where is the whisky?” Marcus commented, scratching his head. “Go back to the kitchen, boy!” someone yelled. Oliver’s face turned red and he clenched his fists in rage. He gave the crew a defiant expression, and stormed out. The crew just kept laughing behind him, thinking that the blonde boy had gone to cry in his room. But Oliver felt a bright flame inside him, and he headed to the Captain’s cabin. “Stupid pirates, you’ll see” Oliver stood in front of the cabin’s door for a moment. He raised his fist with hesitation, doubting if he should do this after all. Then he remembered the crew laughing at him, and he knocked the door with rage. No answer. He knocked again, and again. Only the sound of the waves against the ship could be heard. Oliver was about to knock a fourth time when the door opened. The blond boy almost fell down on his butt as the huge frame appeared in front of him. “C-captain. A-ahoy!” Oliver managed to stutter. The Captain was so tall that his wide chest was facing Oliver’s face. The young man was wearing elegant sailor clothes, but he had ripped his shirt’s sleeves off to reveal his enormous arms. He looked down at the blonde boy, and Oliver felt some kind of hatred and admiration towards him. The Captain had a youthful face, almost the same as Oliver, but that was the only similar aspect between the two. The large pirate had a prominent beard that was trimmed short with a knife. His hair was bushy and heroic looking. He was bigger, stronger, and more attractive than anyone on the ship. Oliver frowned, frustrated with the idea that this guy was almost his same age, yet more of a man he would ever be. The Captain tilted his head without saying anything, awaiting for Oliver to speak. His chest was raising up and down, his breath clearly displaying the power his body possessed. Oliver swallowed, and then stood firmly “T-t-the- c-c-rew...” He shut his mouth, enraged that he was too nervous to talk. The Captain simply chuckled and turned his back to him. “Come in” Oliver looked at the back of the Captain, twice his own torso. He walked inside and observed the cabin. The place was filled with mirrors, way too many for a normal room. The desk was full of maps and other sailing objects. From the window, the moonlight sprayed it’s brightness over the frame of the large Captain. The man was looking at one of the many reflective glasses, his blue eyes locked on his own body. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” said the Captain. Oliver raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was talking about. “What is?” The Captain raised his arm and flexed. His biceps rose up like a mountain, muscle stretching his skin thin. The blonde boy couldn’t stop staring, amazed by how hard and strong the muscle looked. “My body, of course…” commented the Captain. Oliver narrowed his eyes, confused. He looked away and pretended that he was not drooling over the sculpted body of the Captain. “S-sure…” Oliver answered “Um… s-sir. The crew has b-been wondering…” Suddenly Oliver felt a stream of courage running through his being “The crew… The crew has been wondering if we are going in the right direction! We should be arriving in the new land by now, but there is nothing out there except for the ocean! We are starting to question if you are actually capable of navigating this ship. After all, you are just a boy like me” Oliver spoke so quickly he felt almost out of breath when he finished. He looked at the Captain with an exhilarating smile, and instantly felt regret as the man turned to face him. “We are not going to the new land” said the Captain blandly. “W-what?” Oliver felt even smaller while the muscular man approached him. The Captain snatched him by the neck and lifted up his body. He wasn’t choking him, but he was still grabbing him firmly like a puppet. “Was I not clear? We are not going to the new land” the Captain smiled. His smirk would’ve looked terrifying, if his face wasn’t so perfectly handsome... “I have other goals in mind... I might be stronger than anyone in this pathetic ship, but I still can’t navigate a ship on my own. You silly pirates were a great help to get me across the sea though. Thank you” The man flexed the arm he was holding Oliver with, muscle bulging out everywhere. He grinned more “I suppose there is no need to pretend I care about you all anymore, as we are approaching our destination” Oliver started shaking, trying to set himself free “W-what are you doing!? The crew respects you, why are you betraying them like that!? Where are we even going!” The blonde boy grabbed the Captain’s arm, trying to push away. It was like holding a pillar of rock, and Oliver wasn’t sure if he was aroused or scared. He was envious, for sure. He also felt so helpless. The Captain chuckled. He moved Oliver, pulling him towards him. He was now carrying him in his arms. The blonde boy could feel all the hard muscle around him, while the Captain hugged him with his mighty arms like a baby. “Don’t worry, I do not intend to hurt any of you” he locked his blue eyes with Oliver’s “Aren’t you pretty? I might keep you around... I bet you’d like it” Then he walked to one large mirror and smashed Oliver against it. The Captain pushed his frame against his, and started thrusting with his whole figure. Oliver felt like a beast was smashing him, muscle pressing against his own body, pure raw strength overpowering him. The Captain was simply looking at himself flexing, almost making out with his reflection, while Oliver was getting squished. “I am such perfection. Look at my muscles, so strong, so powerful. You are feeling the full power of a perfect being!” Oliver tried to push him away or escape, but it was useless. The Captain’s body was too large and muscular for him to do anything. Nevertheless, the blonde boy soon was now longer scared; he was moaning, his hand grabbing and touching every part of the muscular man. Oliver felt so much admiration, and so much rage and envy… “That 's right. You know your place now” said the Captain, still observing himself instead of the blonde boy “I’ve been watching you, you know? You are the only pretty thing in this hideous ship. Except for me, obviously. You’ll be a great pet” The Captain started thrusting harder, his huge bulge rubbing against Oliver, evidently hard. The mirror started to crack, unable to contain the muscle strength “We are going to a place where I will obtain all the power I deserve. A forgotten place by many, but not me. I will take what’s mine” “I-I… I will not let you get away with his” Oliver managed to yell “I’ll tell the crew. They won’t accept this” The Captain laughed out loud. He then began kissing his reflection, flexing his muscles all over Oliver, pushing him harder and harder against the surface. The mirror finally gave in and broke in pieces. The blonde boy let out a scream of pain, arousal and surprise. The Captain stepped back with a proud grin, breathing intensely, and with his sweaty muscle shining under the moonlight. Oliver just dropped to his knees, and noticed that his crotch was wet. He looked up to the captain, feeling pathetic and defeated. The Captain was still full of energy, and he continued flexing his big muscles while watching them bulge up and harden. Without even bothering to look at Oliver, he said “What is the crew going to do about it? They think I am a demigod! And to be honest, they might be right…” The muscle man grabbed the blonde boy by the shirt and lifted him up. Without warning, he kissed him softly “You and everyone in this ship will keep doing what I say. And you are staying here, with me. There’s nothing you can do about it, my pet” Oliver wanted to run away, to punch him, to scream for help. But he felt so tired, so weak. His vision got blurry, and before he could say anything, he passed out.
  16. Introndunction: Muscle man is interrupted during workout The cell door buzzed and slid open just as the hunk inside finished another set of deadlifts. The impact of his barbell slamming onto the mat was heard throughout the compound, joining the ever-present medley of burly men lifting heavy shit. The guard paused for the reverberations to subside before stepping in. The hunk turned to face him, mouth open, chest heaving, waiting for the guard to say something. "You've been called for inspection." The guard pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt. "I hope that was your last set because I'm meant to get you right away." "Man, I thought we agreed you wouldn't interrupt any of my workouts, " The hunk tossed his wrist wraps and began wiping the sweat off of his bar. "so what's this? You know there's only a few weeks left for us. Ain't got time for all-" "This isn't from us, man." The guard cut him off and opened the handcuffs. "It's from the big house. Some pompous twink came down from the estate to check on things, fuck knows why. Got a real stick up his ass. Wardens' refusing to do shit about him." The hunk finished putting on his tank top and turned around to be cuffed. "Why didn't ya'll just tell him what you tell every other pompous twink from the estate?" The door closed as they exited the cell, the guard leading the cuffed hunk toward the inspection. "All I know is this cunt is too important for any of the wardens to tell him to fuck off. So we're stuck. Prick's making shit harder for all of us." The guard spoke quietly to his prisoner. "Keeps trying to tell us what to do. Like he'd know a fucking thing about building muscles." The sound of weights and grunting grew quiet as the two men walked further from the cell block. "We'll see what he has to say. Speaking of, " The guard stops in front of his prisoner and pulls him close. "This guy is... You know how these guys are." The hunk smiled. "Don't sweat it. Let's get this over with." He turned towards the administrator office. The guard patted him on the shoulder. "Alright... Slave. Follow me." Part bullshit: The Twink Talks Too Much The pompous twink looked up from the desk and smiled as the men entered the administrator office. "Here is the prisoner you requested, Mister Master." The guard shut the door behind them. "Thank you very much. As I am sure the guard has informed you, slave, I am here to conduct an inspection of the company's property-... " The twink spoke many words and neither the hunk or the guard cared to hear most of them as evidenced by the knowing glances they kept shooting eachother. They were not accustomed to the volume of corporate garbage that spewed out from the skinny twigs on the hill. "... and although I have absolute faith in the professionalism and work ehtic of our highly trained staff in this compound-... " His words and gestures brought him up from the desk chair all the way to the examination table and ended beside the scale. He held a measuring tape in one hand and extended the other towards the guard. He was quiet long enough for the guard to realise his speech was over. "Pardon me, Mister Master?" the guard wore a puzzled look on his face same as the restrained hunk. "The keys, please. In order to accomplish what I must I need this slave to be unrestrained." The twink waited for the guard to hand over his keys. "Of course." The guard quickly unlocked the prisoner and handed the keys along with the cuffs to the twink in charge. "Thank you. Now if you will excuse me for a moment I shall begin immediately." He placed the cuffs and keys on the table. "Uh... Mister Master... " The guard stepped ahead of the prisoner as if to speak on his behalf. "Our protocol says not to leave unrestrained prisoners without the supervision of at least one guard or warden. Are you sure about carrying out this inspection alone?" "Yes, I am sure. Your protocol pertains to prisoners, not slaves. And besides, " he picked up the cuffs and twirled them around his finger "I am sure it won't be a problem now that I have these. You're excused." "Well alright, Mister Master... " The guard turned to leave. He saw the hunk with a look on his face that said What the fuck, man? and replied with an expression that said I don't fucking know, man. "I'll be outside." Part The Muscle Worship The hunk rubbed his wrists as the guard left the room. He cleared his throat and took off his tank top. He put the garment on a shelf and lowered his gaze, waiting for the twink to begin his inspection. He cleared his throat and held his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat a third time and dared to look up at the twink. Thinking he had something on his body, he looked down to see what the twink was staring at. He couldn't see what it was. "Mister Master?" The hunk waited for a response. "You wanna get started?" He stood motionless as if transfixed, leaning against the front of the desk, breathing deeply with his mouth open. His eyes blinked from the sight in front of him, at once too much but not enough to look away. They wandered over the hunk's body, from his shoulders down to his waist, up to his neck and down to his arms. The longer the twink stared the bigger the prisoner got. The more veins he could make out through his skin, the more definition manifested in his abs, the more bulges appeared on his arms, until he realized the hunk had gotten closer. The twink's breathing slowed as he felt the bodyheat radiating from the prisoner's chest on his face. "Hey. What do you want to measure, Mister Master?" The hunk spoke softly and held up his right arm to flex. "Wanna measure my biceps?" He looked over the bulging mound on his arm and smiled to himself. "Or do you wanna measure the other one? Huh?" He put his right hand up on his hip and repeated the pose with his left arm. Just as big a protrusion, just as prominent a vein. Finally the twink snapped out of his trance and turned to face away from the hunk. "No, that isn't what-..." The twink cleared his throat before taking the measuring tape in both his hands. He turned to face the hunk who had his arms crossed in front of him. "That is not what I came here for." "Well then. What do you wanna measure, little man?" The hunk looked down at the twink and teased him. "I got something if you're out of ideas." "It's your ch-... Your chest. I am here to measure you. Your chest." The twink mustered his quickly fading pompousness, put one hand on his hip and looked up at the hunk. "Would you kindly put your arms down at your sides, please?" He brought the tape around his waist as the hunk complied, unfolding his arms. "Thank you." "So it's please and thank you now, huh?" The hunk let out a hearty chuckle. "Be quiet. And put your arms behind your head, please." The twink carried the tape up and around the hunk's chest and held it to read. "What does it say?" The hunk put his arms down and leaned into the desk. He put his arms on either side of the tiny man, trapping him against the desk. "Huh? What number do you have there, little man?" "Fifty-... " The twink stuttered as the hunk closed in on him and he realized his predicament. "Fifty what? I know what it says. I coulda told you what it said. Give it here." The hunk grabbed the tape out of the twink's hands and wrapped it around his scrawny body. "Hey, what on earth do you think you-" The twink began to protest but stopped. He gave in to the thick, veiny arms putting the measuring tape around his chest and let his eyes wander over them. Over the round deltoids and defined veins that framed the behemoth in front of him. The hunk held his gaze after taking his width. "Yours didn't say fifty. Didn't say forty either." He let go of the tape and put his arms around the small man. "Put your hands up on my shoulders." The twink complied as the man who towered above him commanded. "Come here." He buried the twink's face in between his massive pecs. "Oh... Your muscles... So big... " The twink moaned into the muscular chest. He huffed and puffed as if wanting to inhale the bulging pecs into his lungs. He squeezed, rubbed, groped and massaged the beast everywhere his dainty hands could reach. "You didn't need to interrupt my motherfucking workout if you wanted all this." The hunk spoke gently. "Hm? You think that it's okay to fuck with my workout like that?" "No... Not ever... " He whispered his reply with his cheek pressed into the hunk's firm body. "You're gonna make up for my missed workout, aren't you?" He took the twink's hand in his own and guided it down his sculpted abdomen. "Yes... Oh your muscles are so-... " The twink trailed off in a sharp gasp as he felt the ripples in the hunk's developed abs. "You know a body like mine doesn't come easy." He lead the twink's soft hand down to his confined member and squeezed it. "Show me how grateful you are." The twink tried to pull his hand off the firm metal to no avail. "No, I don't-" He averted his eyes from the stud in front of him. "I could not unlock your cage. We would both be in trouble!" "Only you and I will know." He began taking off his workout pants. "I know you want to make me happy." "I do!" The twink looked up into his eyes with a pleading expression, hoping for understanding and forgivness for this supposed wrongdoing. "I would do anything for you... Anything but that." The hunk backed up, slowly releasing the twink from his muscular confinement. "That's alright, Mister Master..." He took the twink's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. "That's alright... You just let me know when you're ready..." The hunk placed one final kiss on his neck. "... And don't forget about me." "No, stop- Wait!" He nearly fell over trying to get away from the bodybuilder's final caress. "What are you doing? You absolute-..." The twink rubbed the angry red blotch on his neck where the hunk had planted his lips. Before he could realize it the hunk had taken his tank and headed out the door. He was left standing in the administrator office, face flushed, neck swollen, hard as steel and wondering when he would get to see his new obsession again. Part: The Almost Whipping Congregations of swole convicts stood chattering among themselves in the sunshine. They were smoking, playing cards or throwing a hand ball. Their voices grew silent as a guard strode across the yard. The hunk tucked the ball under his arm and waited. "Need you to come with me, man." The guard made a motion for him to follow as he turned back the way he came. The hunk passed the ball to a fellow convict before hurrying to catch up with the guard. "You going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" They turned a corner past the security checkpoint, leaving the cellblock behind. "And whatever it is better be worth dragging me out during yard time. You know it's only three more weeks until-" "Look, I didn't ask what you did to him because you said that you handled it. So why he asked for you by name-" The hunk grabbed the guard by his shoulder and pushed him up against the wall. "Are you talking about that baby fetus motherfucker who had his hands all over me last week? The same one?" "Yeah. Who you said that you took care of." The guard pushed the hunk away from him and straightened his uniform. "I let you get away with a lot of shit, man. But you better tell me something. Why does he want to see you again?" "No, you listen to me because I'm about to tell you something. You tell that dickless, spineless fucking warden that if he doesn't deal with this shrimp and send him back up the hill with the rest of those motherfucking-" "It's estate business." The guard emphasised each word. "What do you want him to do about it? Huh?" The hunk sighed and put his hands on his hips. "This better be the last time. Or I'll make him regret it." Part: The Definitely Whipping The twink stood panting, face flushed and sweaty, his brow was furrowed. He held a short leather whip in one hand and wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the other. He wore a high collar dress shirt with frilled cuffs. He looked ridiculous. "Taking a break?" The shirtless hunk stood against a wall, his wrists chained at shoulder height on either side of him. He spoke in a condescending tone, in spite of the many red marks on his body. "Be quiet!" The twink raised his whip and struck the prisoner on his shoulder. "You absolute jerk. You have no right to speak to me that way after what you did to me." "You liked it." The hunk rolled his shoulders, his chains clattered against the wall. "Or was all that moaning and feeling me up just acting? Like you acting angry about it." The twink got up in the prisoner's face and spoke angrily. "You could not begin to understand the stress that I was forced to go through to cover up the mark you left on me, you animal." He turned away and put the whip on the desk. He rubbed the hand it was in. "We are not meant to have intimate relations with our slaves. It goes against everything that grand daddy taught us, everything that this company has been trying to acheive for-" The hunk was focused on the restraint chaining his left arm to the wall. It wiggled back and forth as he tugged. The hunk tested it by wrenching his arm towards himself. The anchor came loose and slid out of the wall. "... I needed to get closer to you. And then when we met in the office I-... Something just came over me and... I got carried away. It cannot happen again, understand?" "Why can't we just be together?" The hunk sounded earnest. He turned around and began testing the second wall restraint. "Have you not heard anything that I have been saying?" He sounded hurt. "I want to be with you, it is just that-... " the twink sighed deeply. "This acquisition is really important and- Hey, what are you doing?" The twink turned around in time to see the hunk with one foot planted on the wall, straining to rip the restraint out. The anchor flew out of the wall with a loud crash. Chunks of brick shattered on the floor. "Whew! God damn!" The hunk congratulated himself and turned around. "What were you saying?" The twink ran for the door but was grabbed by the hunk and fell on his ass. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" The hunk stood over the twink with his restraints dangling from his wrists. His body was covered in angry red welts. His chest moved up and down as he breathed from the exertion. Looking up at the brute made his V-shaped body look bigger than it already was. Bulging muscles beneath every square inch of him revealed the inhuman strength that dwelled inside of him. "Please do not hurt me." The twink pleaded for mercy from the unchained beast. "Why would I do that?" The hunk fished the keys out of the twink's pockets. "Why would I hurt you, huh? Because you chained me up to a fucking wall?" "I am sorry, please just-" "Oh, because you fucking whipped me when I couldn't defend myself? Is that why I would hurt you? Or because you called me an animal?" He lifted him up by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall, his feet dangling inches off the floor. "Look at me, " he forced the twink to meet his gaze and spoke quietly, "I don't give a fuck about an inspection, discipline or whatever other bullshit you come up with. I best not never, ever, see you in this cellblock again. I won't beat your ass this time." He dangled the keys next to his face. "But I will hold on to these." He let go and exited the office, keys firmly in his pocket. Part: The P-valley fan fiction The convicts who shared their pod with the hunk experienced a growth spurt immediately after his encounter with the twink. They unearthed a kinship that had been buried deep inside of them for years. Collectively the burly men managed to pack on more muscle mass in that one week than they had in any week previous. Word spread throughout the penitentiary of Cellblock D and its inhabitants, of the musclebound hunks that walked its halls and where everybody seemed like they were happy to be locked up. News eventually reached a grand daddy. He sat in the backseat with his grand son while their chauffeur drove them to the estate. "How in the hell did those slaves get a universal chastity cage key? Hm?" The twink looked at the key that was stolen from him, now in the hands of his grand daddy. He did not say a word. "... Are you fuckin our slaves?" The grand daddy was staring intently at the twink. "No!" The twink shot a quick glance at his grand daddy. He sounded nervous. "Well somebody must have grovelled at more than just your feet to get this. Somebody must have grovelled at your dick." "I have not made any intimate contact with our slaves, grand daddy, that is absolutely-" "Whoever you are fuckin is you and your daddy's business." The twink gulped at the thought of his daddy finding out what he had been doing. "I just want to know how you lost something like this, boy." He held the key up to emphasize his point. "I guess I must have had it on me and-... Lost it somewhere in the cellblock." The twink looked back at his grand daddy who had put the key away and turned his head to the side. "The only reason I was in that compound-... I wanted to make sure everything was right before the acquisition-" The grand daddy put his hand up. "Look, just spare me the motherfuckin bullshit. No, those slaves have fucked you. And probably fucked this whole acquisition." The grand daddy took a deep breath. "I've gotta go in this fuckin estate, talk to your daddy about un-fuckin this situation, and gettin this fuckin acquisition done. You just keep your dick out of that cellblock, boy." He exited the car and went up the estate stairs, key in hand. The twink stayed in the car, head buried in his hands. "Mister Master? We have arrived." The chauffeur looked at the sad twink in the rear-view mirror. The twink sat back, told the driver where he wanted to go and buckled his seat belt. The driver pulled off and began the journey to the growth labs. Part: Mega Muscle Mania AKA The Fight The cell door buzzed and slid open. The hunk sat up on his bunk and folded his book. A colossus made out of meat, muscles and rough skin stretched over veins stood in the doorway. The giant was squeezed into a guard's uniform. He ducked his head under the door frame and aangled his broad shoulders to enter the cell. "You need to accompany me." The hunk laughed upon arriving at the administrators office. The debris was removed. Two holes remained in the brick wall where he had wrenched himself free. "Here." He fished the chastity cage key out of his pocket, tossed it into the air and caught it. "This what you want, right?" "Take off your clothes, slave." The hunk stood motionless. He saw something in the eyes of the beast. "Right now!" The beast bellowed in a deep voice. "... Mister Master?" The hunk looked up and down the behemoth, looking for a sign of the pompous twink. "What the fuck happened to you?" The beast chuckled and took off the prison guard shirt. "Got big. Even bigger than you. Bigger than any of you slaves could ever be." He tensed his abs, showing deep grooves in his muscular body. "Are you still going to beat my ass, huh? You cannot do anything to me now, slave." He approached the hunk. The hunk backed up into the desk. "Look, whatever you think you came here to do-" "I came here to see you. They know what I have done. Daddy knows." He laughed. "The acquisition is tomorrow. Luckily for you, slave, I want to be with you one last time before it is all over. Now will you kindly take off your clothes." "Look, I get it. That was a little outta line. But this ain't-" "Stop talking, slave. I have waited long enough for this moment, and now I have the strength to make you do as I say. Take off your clothes or I will have to hurt you." The hunk turned his body and clenched his fists. "Listen, you little twink... You don't want a run with me." "Have it your way, you insolent cretin." The beast pounced at the hunk. The hunk rolled over the table and kicked it at the beast. The beast caught it, picked it up and yelled. "I will teach you respect!" He threw the good oak desk at the hunk who narrowly dodged out of the way. Shards of wood splintered off the fractured desk and landed on the floor. The beast tried to grab the hunk but staggered backwards from a fast uppercut. The hunk did not relent, battering the beast with practiced precision. The beast struck out with one arm, shoving his attacker away. "You ain't a fighter, twink." The hunk put his hands up to fight. The beast roared and swung his fists, throwing haphazard punches in the hunk's direction. One blow connected and with enough force to send the hunk reeling backwards. The beast stood triumphant, his heavy chest was moving up and down in time with his quickened breathing. "You're not that fucking strong either." The hunk charged at the beast and pummeled his midsection. As the giant keeled over, the hunk forced his elbow down onto his back, knocking him onto the floor. The beast was gasping for air, clutching its meaty body and wheezing. "... Savage... I will kill you..." The beast gasped and heaved for every breath. The hunk kicked the heaving beast onto the floor, eliciting an earthy roar. "You can't fight." He kicked his pained adversary in the back. "You can't move." He kicked the beast in his stomach, evoking further anguished struggling for breath. "You can't even hardly breathe." The hunk backed away to catch his own breath. He picked up the prison guard's shirt. "... No. You really can't do anything." The hunk walked over to the panting mass of muscle and grabbed him by the belt. With a roar he lifted the beast over his head and threw him into the desk. The legs crumbled from the force of the impact. The countertop shattered under the weight of his muscles. The hunk looked over the defeated giant, at the bruises he had left for him, the places where splinters had embedded themselves in his flesh. The beast stopped moving. The hunk began to undress. Part: The motherfucking epilogue, bitch. Motherfucking closure, bitch. Happily ever fucking after, bitch. The twink woke to a dull pain growing in his back. He heard pattering on the window. It was day time. Amidst the trees was a van parked beside the building he found himself in. As he shifted on the mattress he roused several sharp tingles. On his ribs, his arms, his jaw. Suddenly everywhere was shooting pain. He shouted from the agony. Only a rasp was able to make it out of his parched throat. The bunk creaked as he tossed and turned in misery. A muscled arm stretched itself toward him. It offered a drink of water. "It hurts." Even after drinking he still sounded like death. "Got some salve that might help but..." The hunk looked at the tub of cream in his hand. "Lie still. You gotta rest." "Where am I?" The twink looked out onto the van again. Secure Transport - Lannahechee State Penitentiary He shut his eyes tight and braced himself against the pains that stabbed at his body. "It's a safehouse. Carlton city's not far. Should be able to get outta here in a few days, maybe a week." The hunk looked over the familiar shape of the pompous twink. He looked as when he was bulked up and gasping for his life. His skinny body was curled up under the cover with oversized bruises. They looked more painful on his small frame than they had on the giant that threw the office desk. "It hurts..." He groaned in pain. The hunk sat on the edge of the bunk. "You'll be alright, little man." He took the twink's hand in his own. He looked at the rain pouring outside of the window. "You'll be alright." *** THE END ***
  17. davinaclark72

    Josh Outgrows Sam

    Hi all, first story here. Bit nervous about sharing. I was debating whether to upload the parts separately, but I think putting them together will just be easier for the time being. Enjoy! Josh ran down the stairs 2 at a time, brushing his teeth while cursing internally. His egotistical roommate, Sam, had unplugged his alarm clock while Josh was asleep. Again. Josh would most likely be late for mandatory registration, which he had already missed twice this week for much this same reason. And it was only Wednesday! Sam was definitely humouring himself through the petty bullying, seeing as he loved the power dynamic and all. Every time Sam did this Josh just felt a little more powerless against the huge fellow he shared a dorm with, like Sam would always be in control of his actions. He would always be the bigger, stronger man of the dorm, towering over Josh’s rather short height of 5” 5’ at a whopping 6” 3’. As Josh quickly did the buttons up of his ill-fitting shirt, he couldn’t help but feel that he had endured enough mental torture from Sam for a lifetime. For instance, every day without fail Sam would come home from his evening gym session and flex in front of the mirror in their shared bedroom, testing the limits of the sleeves of his one size too small compression shirt against his 18 inch biceps while exaggeratedly moaning. Josh knew Sam only did it to wind him up, but that didn’t stop it from working quite fucking well. Josh had always wanted to be bigger than he was, or at the very least big enough to fill out the sleeves of his already small shirts. He had tried to lift before to no avail, and Sam had a field day making fun of him when he attempted a bench press. One of the many reasons he was so frustrating to be around. Sighing, Josh put his several sizes too big hoody on and braced himself for the outside. The journey to campus was quick and uneventful really, and before he knew it he was entering the warm classroom and sitting at the back. The rest of the day passed in a blur; he was told off, given detention (as was customary for these days), and continued with his day. During gym class, which was shared between the whole year, Josh embarrassingly couldn’t even do 10 push-ups. He felt so weak, and although the only people laughing were Sam and his friends, it felt like the whole world was silently mocking him. When it came to be Sam’s turn the whole year sat in awe as he pushed out rep after rep, eventually having to stop at 120 so that other people could actually have a go. Detention rolled around at the end of the day and Josh savoured it, knowing back at his dorm he would have to face Sam before he inevitably left to go workout at the gym. As much as he didn’t like it the thought of Sam lifting heavier and heavier weights every day aroused him to no end. His swear dripping down onto the chair, pushing his muscles to the extremes... Josh had to uncross his legs under the desk so as to not stifle his tiny erection. The rest of detention passed without a hitch, and with slightly wetter underwear than when he entered, Josh made his way back to the dorm. As he opened the door he knew exactly what would be waiting for him. He creeped upstairs to his and Sam’s shared bedroom and opened the door as quietly as he could. Hopefully Sam was downstairs somewhere, making himself another jug of protein shake which he would down in one gulp. Stop giving yourself a boner, he thought, you have to be stealthy. But as he entered the bedroom his heart sank. He knew he was only being hopeful. Sam was sitting at their shared desk, on the computer, the chair sinking lower than normal to accommodate his massive size. Sam turned towards Josh greedily and smiled. His blonde hair was styled in that fashionably messy mop that most college boys have, and the smallest hint of facial hair over his defined jawline. “Heya Josh, didja get up on time this morning?” Josh just glared at him. Sam knew exactly what he was doing. “Josh, buddy, pal, my FRIEND, it feels like we haven’t had a conversation in forever. You keep ignoring me as if I’m not a sight to behold. Which I am.” He turned to the side and did a side chest pose. “When are you going to admit to me that I’m actually quite amazing, and you’re the one who’s making a big mess out of our friendship.” Josh focused on unpacking his bag and preparing it with the books he would need tomorrow. His arms trembled as he tried to lift his admittedly quite heavy maths textbook out of the drawer, trying not to pay attention to the drone of his roommate. “Looks like you’re having trouble there mate. Why don’t I give you a hand?” Josh felt Sam stood up, as no doubt did the residents downstairs. The floorboards groaned as Sam stepped his way towards him. He leaned over Josh, who was struggling to lift the book out of the drawer, and took it with one hand. He raised it quickly, then held it high above his head as if it weighed nothing more than a feather. Which it probably did weigh to him. Then he raised it and lowered it like one would a weight at the gym, smirking the whole time. Josh kicked himself for giving Sam the attention he was after, for staring at the way his bicep bulged as he held the book above his head, the way the corners of his mouth creased into a horribly sexy smile. “Whatever.” Josh replied, and laid down on his bed, pulling out his phone. Sam eventually got bored of pestering him and left for the gym, so Josh put on some lounge trousers and a t-shirt, reclining back into the comfort of his duvet. He made the mistake of getting dressed in front of Sam once. If his skinny body, poor posture and crooked face wasn’t enough to be ashamed of, Sam smacked what little ass Josh had and told him that it matched the rest of his body - absolutely tiny. “Because,” Sam said, “Asses like those aren’t for people like me.” Josh laid there for an hour or two on his phone, scrolling through Twitter and ogling at size morphs. The second he heard the front door open downstairs he switched tabs, he knew he would never hear the end of it if Sam caught him looking at overly buff dudes with enormous bulges edited onto them. He turned over to face the wall as he heard the echos of Sam walking up the stairs, not wanting to even look at him. He heard the bedroom door open. Josh almost wanted to cry when he felt the bed tip to one side as the massive figure of Sam sit next to him. “You look so small curled up there. So puny. You’re a real stick, you know that right? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Josh.” Sam grabbed his head and turned it towards his sweat glistening body covered in the tightest tank top there was. The schools logo was pasted over the front of it, distorted slightly by Sam’s abs. With one hand holding Josh’s head, he slowly lifted his arm and showed off his full 18 inch cold biceps. Josh instinctively sucked in air at such a sight, and looked away to try to lower his arousal. “You like that do you? You like my massive arms, so enormous when compared to yours?” Sam clasped Josh’s arm with one hand and raised it next to his, comparing the two. “Look at it. Fuck, it’s nearly triple the thickness of yours. You’re so TINY!” Struck with fear, he didn’t know what to do. Sam filled his entire vision. A teenage muscle god filling him with even more insecurities. Sam flexed his pecs, making the bounce one by one, the huge mounds of muscle sending shivers down Josh’s spine. “I guess,” said Sam quietly, then raising his voice, “that’s the sort of experience that 200 pounds of muscle does to someone! Urgh, yeah!!” He flexed again. 200 pounds? Sam was becoming a monster. Josh himself was only 120 pounds, no wonder he felt small next to this giant. Suddenly the rumble of Sam’s stomach cut loudly through the quiet atmosphere. “Aw, we’ll have to cut my well deserved worship session short I’m afraid. I’d better have my feast. These guns don’t feed themselves!” He said, flexing both arms at once. When at las he heard Sam thundering back downstairs, Josh adjusted the elastic on his underwear. God, this was hard in more ways than one. But then, as he was about to pull his phone back up, Josh saw a glint of light on the dresser. He stood up, not recognising the cylinder that caught the corner of his eye. A reasonably sized glass bottle with a red lid, labelled as “Xtra Size”. There was no other labels on the bottle. Quickly, Josh opened it and poured a few pills onto his hand. They were half red and half white, quite large, and seemingly inviting. What were these? He checked the label again. Xtra size? There were no other labels to speak of. Josh thought the size Sam possessed - could it really be from these pills? And if so, was there a limit? Sam must’ve been taking these for ages, as from what Josh knew he’d been massive since joining college. He decided to take the bottle and hide it inside the secret compartment of his bag, where he kept the cut outs of photos from the school magazine of the wrestling team. Which Sam was on. Josh hopped back into bed, but the thought of the strange pills was constantly in the back of his mind. Just one wouldn’t hurt, right? It’s only a pill. The worst case scenario, nothing ends up happening. So, moved by his desire to grow bigger, Josh opened the pill bottle back up and swallowed one down his throat, with the assistance of water. There’s no way his throat is strong enough to swallow it without water. At least, not yet. He sat there, waiting for something to happen. And then he realised how stupid he was being - why would a pill activate instantly? He had to actually wait for it to work. So, he waited. He went over to his desk and started doing his homework, thinking about growing bigger the whole time. By the time night fell, when Josh and Sam were both fast asleep, Josh felt a little kick in the back of his chest, like a motor that made been underused for a long time just revving up again. But only for a moment, and by morning Josh had forgotten it. This was going to be an interesting day. Josh woke up feeling refreshed and invigorated, which was something he didn’t feel often. Even when he checked the time and noticed his alarm clock wasn’t working, his joyous mood was not deterred. Instead of rushing to college, he stayed behind a bit longer to make himself beans on toast, when typically he only ate half of a granola bar. Well, he thought, if I’m going to grow, I’m going to need some sort of nutrition. He left the house feeling content, not noticing that his shirt was now a perfect fit. His bag, while extremely heavy due to the maths textbook, was no longer so bad he had to stop to catch his breath every 5 minutes. After arriving on campus the same as yesterday happened, registration, his classes, eating alone at lunch (this time with a slightly bigger serving), although after sitting down in detention he noticed a strange feeling in his chest. It was a weird feeling to describe, it was constrictive while also freeing, and felt boiling hot, like his insides were surging with energy. It tingled slightly in a good way, which oddly reminded Josh of the moments before an orgasm. He thought nothing of it, and by the time he got back home he was almost sure that it was ingestion. As he walked up the stairs to his and Sam’s shared room, he thought to himself about the pills. If they were the reason he felt so good today, why not take more? In fact, in all my time in college, have I ever felt this good? The answer was clearly no, so he decided that when Sam left for the gym he should take another one to see if the trend continued. He opened the door to his bedroom, still afraid of the idea of Sam being there but no longer terrified like he was the previous day. In the mood Josh was in, when he opened the door and saw Sam, he looked a lot less imposing. Josh felt like he could at least handle whatever was thrown at him. Sam seemed to be looking for something, which Josh realised with a start were probably the bottle of pills he left lying on the dresser. Sam looked him up and down menacingly and spoke. “You haven’t seen anyone else in here have you?” That answered Josh’s question, Sam was looking for the pills, and he thought that Josh was so much of a wimp that someone else must have broken in to steal them. A logical explanation, really. “No,” replied Josh, “Why?”. Sam looked him dead in the eyes and spoke. “Because if anyone has been in this room, or touched any of my stuff, I’m going to kill them.” Gulp. “I’m off to the gym early today.” And with that, he was gone. Off to work out his problems by working out, Josh suspected. Sighing in relief, he laid down on his bed. He took the bottle of pills out and swallowed one with help from the bottle of water next to his bedside table. A thought came over him, instantly giving him an erection, but he dismissed it immediately. No... he shouldn’t. But the bottle sat there staring back at him, invitingly. Too much of it could be a bad thing, he thought. Best to leave it for now. Josh decided to occupy his mind by attempting to follow a workout off of youtube, trying to copy the forms. It was surprisingly easy, and by the end he wasn’t even exhausted. Filled with energy, he started pumping out push-ups on the floor of the bedroom, counting them as he went. It was excruciatingly difficult, not as difficult as it had been before, as he was reaching 30, 31, 32... this is the most push-ups he’d ever done in a row! He felt himself start to get hard, imagining himself getting bigger, stronger, lifting weights in the gym just like he imagined Sam would be doing right now. In the middle of the 40th push-up, when he felt close to collapsing, he suddenly felt that pain in his chest again, constricting yet freeing, and he realised with a start that the push-ups were no longer as difficult. In fact, they were getting easier! His shirt felt tighter, his trousers seemed to be losing their elasticity, the hem of his shirt rising slowly but surely to the point you could see his midriff. All through this the feeling continued, he felt his spine crack and straighten, his socks feeling smaller. He stood up and checked himself at himself in the mirror. Woah. Although it wasn’t much, Josh was obviously BIGGER. He flexed his arm under the shirt and felt a wave of glee at seeing the smallest bump underneath the fabric. It wasn’t exactly testing the limits, but it wasn’t there before. His shoulders looked wider, his lats were sticking out tons more, his pecs were very slight but visible- Josh put a hand through his trousers and into his pants, jerking himself off at the thought of growing even bigger. Was his meat bigger too? He took his hand out and grabbed a bendy ruler out from the drawer, one which Sam used to measure his biceps. Sticking his dick up to the ruler, he measured it at 4 inches hard. Not exactly big, but bigger! He lifted his hand away so he could get a look at his legs, leaving his dick dangling out of the top of his trousers. They were so much tighter now that he had actual dimensions to show through them. When Josh turned to his side he nearly came instantly. Look at his arse! It stuck out substantially by at least an inch and a half, making the trousers completely tight around the top half. And if his worship sessions wasn’t good enough already, he felt the tingles of that feeling again, the surge of energy, of gaining mass. He stayed silent for a moment, stifling a moan of pleasure, and then came when he heard a floorboard creak under him due to his growing size. The thought of having so much muscle turned him on to no end. He fell to the floor, orgasming with pleasure, thinking about growing bigger, his pecs stretching over him, his shoulders being so wide he can’t fit through doors any more. In his daze, he took his shirt off and flexed both arms, like he saw Josh doing. Fuck! He kept one arm flexing while using the bendy ruler to measure an arm. 11 and 1/2 inches, I AM HUGE, he thought. He flexed the arm again, watching it slowly pump bigger. 11 and 3/4. But he can grow bigger. And he plans too. Fuck. He needed to grow bigger. He just had to. He rummaged through his bag and grabbed the bottle swallowing 2 more pills that would fuel his growth. Josh was addicted to the growth, and couldn’t stop. But the growth had a mind of its own. Without warning, it had stopped suddenly and quickly, the feeling gone. Like someone turning off a tap. After he realised, he sat down at his desk and tried to do busy himself with his maths homework. He rearranged the complicated algebraic equations almost absentmindedly, thinking about what spurred the growth in the first place. It happened first in detention, and today it happened during his work out. Is there a cause for it? It seemed to be happening randomly, which wasn’t a good sign. He agreed that while it would be hot as hell if he was in the middle of class and he started to outgrow his clothes, it would probably cause quite the scene, which he wanted to avoid. Because if Sam got word that he was inexplicably growing bigger, then he’d know Josh took his pills. But... what Josh was wondering was why Sam hadn’t grown much at all in the past couple of months. He was taking the pills, right? That’s why he had the bottle with him. Why was Sam so determined to get them back if they weren’t having any effect? He heard the echo of Sam walking up the stairs and immediately jumped into bed. Although Josh’s growth was barely noticeable, he didn’t want to take the chance of Sam noticing. Because if he did... well, Josh probably wouldn’t see tomorrow. So, when Sam opened the door, Josh tried his hardest to hide his body under the covers of his bed. Sam was wearing a grey compression shirt today which emphasised the dark shadows between his pecs. His pecs themselves jutted out by a few inches from the rest of his body. When he walked, they bounced delightfully causing enormous creases underneath them, moving the whole shirt with them whenever they bounced due to their size. God, Josh could watch them all day. But he had to stay disinterested. It won’t be too long and he’ll have pecs of his own, and then they’ll grow to be the same size as Sam’s, then they’ll grow even- no, stop, thought Josh. He turned to his side and tried to get some sleep, ignoring the increasingly ridiculous moaning Sam was making to try to draw attention. Sam was going to get his comeuppance, and Josh was going to make sure he would pay dearly for being so spiteful. Josh woke up with his feet much closer to the end of the bed than they were previously. He must be getting taller to accommodate for the mass he was gaining. He might even get taller than Sam! This prompted a morning jerk-off that lasted longer than Josh would like to admit, but the fantasies of Sam becoming smaller and smaller to him as he grew colossally large pleasured him to no end. He took another 2 pills with his breakfast, just to be sure that they would really kick in the growth. His appetite was growing with him, so he cooked up an entire pack of 4 bacon strips to eat along with a few slices of toast. Growing portions for a growing man. Just as he put his hoody on and was about to leave, he felt the trickle of growth that he’d come to love kick in again. It wasn’t only in his chest anymore, it reverberated throughout his whole body, sending waves and waves of euphoria through his brain. He greedily ripped off his hoody and watched through the hall mirror as his head very slowly raised higher. His shoulders grew wider, actually stretching the fabric of his small shirt, and it delighted Josh to hear the faintest of rips. But where the growth really thrived were his pecs. 2 meaty mounds appeared on his chest, becoming more obvious due to the growing size of them, until they were very clearly separate muscles from the rest of his chest. The top button of his shirt actually burst off, his growing chest forcing the shirt to actually break. I’m becoming huge, he thought, which caused him to moan with pleasure. And it felt so good. The tingling spread to his abs, the lowest of which were visible due to the slow rise of the hem of his shirt. The bricks of muscle were defining themselves, no longer hidden behind a flat stomach. Josh’s trousers looked painted on, as his glutes grew even meatier to accommodate for his growing body. His quads were becoming huge, as were his calves, both straining the fabric of the formal trousers. After a few minutes however, the growth pulled to a halt. It seemed it was only happening in unpredictable, 5 minutes doses. Josh raised his arms in what was becoming his signature pose, the double biceps, and was delighted when two very obvious peaks greeted him back. The fabric of his shirt sleeves were now stretched tight, no longer the small mounds from yesterday. The checkered pattern embroidered into the shirt itself was distorted by the huge bicep peaks. He didn’t have time to measure it, but it looked to be about 13 inches. If he kept growing at this rate, he didn’t have long until he had caught up to Sam. And he was so absorbed in worshiping his growing muscles, Josh had completely forgot that he meant to leave. He put his hoody back on, pleased that it couldn’t zip it up all the way to the top due to his expanding chest, while not noticing that it now only came up to his 2nd set of abs, and left the dorm. As he left, he took note of how he was getting closer to the top of the doorframe. Still a good 3 or 4 inches, but he was getting there. He was given detention again, a shocker, and continued on throughout the day much the same he would normally. At lunch, he didn’t even sit alone. A shy looking boy asked to sit near him by the name of Alex, and the two talked for almost the entirety of lunch. When Josh was sure both he and no one else were looking, he swallowed his 2nd chicken breast down with another two pills. The growth hadn’t hit him since this morning, and he hoped it wouldn’t happen until after he got home, but he knew it we foolish to get that lucky. Because his last class, Chemistry, ended up being much more interesting than it normally is. As the teacher was droning on about electromagnetic fields or whatever, Josh felt the now familiar tingles of growth hitting him. It seemed that each pill affects a set amount of growth spurts, so taking more pills makes the spurts more intense. This was especially true as of late. Because while Josh had correctly guessed that more pills equals more growth, he didn’t quite understand that he was now feeling the effects of 6 pills in one single spurt. His whole body went nearly numb with tingles, and he had to stifle a moan as he felt his biceps expanding in size. The chair he was on creaked loudly as he reached down to readjust the zipper on his trousers, which was struggling against the growing bulge in his underwear created by his lengthening manhood. His legs were starting to get closer to the top of the underside of his desk, and he had to frequently shuffle his leg placement in order to not raise the desk with just his legs. Thicker and beefier his chest grew, causing him to unintentionally lean back in his chair in pleasure. The buttons of his shirt were flying off one by one and were too hard to undo manually due to how tight it had become. A few people looked his way, but didn’t say anything. He was at the back of the classroom, so no one could see him. They could only hear the creaking of his chair and his stifled moans of pleasure. His shirt sleeves were much the same story as the front of his shirt; he couldn’t bend his arms now, or he’d feel the small tension of the fabric in the telltale way something does on the verge of tearing. His whole body felt so good, and he put his hand onto his crotch to rub his (unbeknownst to him) 6 inch erection. By the end of the lesson his growth had stopped, although he realised with a start that before he couldn’t see the bottom of the board due to the girl in front of him, but he could now see all of it including a small section of the wall below. He was growing taller, wider and hunkier by the minute. When he lifted his bag onto his shoulders, he had to readjust the straps again due to his wide his shoulders had become. When he left the classroom he even felt the top of his head brush against the top of the door. Josh skipped detention. There was no way he was going to go there when his clothes were in this state. He had to rush home before Sam did and hide under the covers. He wanted to surprise Sam with his newfound size only once he was bigger than him. That way, if Sam tried to take the pills from him Josh could easily retaliate, as he’d have the size as range and growing. He looked down and sighed. Oh Christ, though Josh, I need to check out the size of this dick! Because there was a very obvious bulge created at the front of his trousers, not helped by the tightness caused by enormous glutes. While his way out of campus Josh spotted two of Sam’s wrestler buddies clad in red singlets. They were only slightly beefier than Josh, and he had a feeling he would outgrow them pretty soon. Their bulges were big and tight under their singlets, Josh would outgrow them there too. He found himself walking up to them, for some reason, possibly as a ruler for his future growth, and he introduced himself. They were both about an inch or two taller than Josh was. “Hey bro, I’m Tyler.” Said the one with a big brown mop of hair. He said it with a smirk, but not one of disapproval like Sam did. The other one, who Josh noticed had a slightly more prominent bulge, introduced themselves as Tom. Josh took a liking to these two - they treated him with respect, although he didn’t quite feel he had earned it. “Fuck, dude, you look massive under there” said Tyler, gesturing at his skintight shirt. Tom nodded along with him, and asked “Can you flex for us man?”. Josh was in awe that they even wanted to see his muscles, until he obliged and did his signature double biceps. He forgot that his shirt was so tight, so when he flexed guns the sleeves ripped clean off. Look at how huge his biceps were! Surely they must have been 15 inches by now. He was getting closer and closer to Sam’s size, and he almost definitely had bigger biceps than both Tyler and Tom. “Fuuck man, those peaks are LOADED!” Said Tom. Tyler had similar things to say, and Josh loved the complements. “How big are they?” Tyler asked. Josh could see the bulge growing in Tyler’s singlet. He was clearly aroused by the sight of someone literally ripping their shirt with their muscles. “Uh, I haven’t measured them in a while.” Josh said. “I’ve got a tape measure!” quipped Tom with a smile. He put his rucksack to the floor and grabbed his tape measure, then wrapped it around Josh’s enormous bicep. “16 inches!” They shouted in unison. Wow. Only 2 inches away from Sam, now. “Can I feel it?” asked Tyler. He took his hand away from his crotch, not caring any longer if Josh saw. Besides, it was just guys being dudes, right? “Sure, go ahead.” Josh held out his arm and Tyler put his hand around it. “Woahh. It’s like iron.” Josh raised his other bicep and gestured for Tom to worship him too. Tom happily obliged, feeling the peaks of Josh’s bicep just like his teammate. Look at him, being worshiped by two hunks. I’m becoming one of them now, huh, he thought. “You new here then? We haven’t seen you around.” Josh thought for a moment. Lying could get him in hot water, if they talked to someone who knew him. “I’m Sam’s roommate, actually.” He said. They gasped in shock simultaneously and both leaned in to look at his face again. It would have been hilariously comical if Josh wasn’t so scared that they might blab to Sam about his size. “No way.” Said Tom “I don’t believe it.” “But he said his roommate was proper skinny, right?” “Yeah, yeah, he always goes on about how he’s the alpha male of his dorm.” “But you’re not a skinny little runt!” “No, you’re not skinny at all.” “You’re actually kind of...” They look at each other and whispered the same word. “Hunky...”. Josh thought he’d never see the day where someone called him hunky. But were they wrong? His flexed his arms again. Yeah, they’re right, he was hunky! “I guess so, huh?” he said more to himself than anyone in particular. They completely missed Josh’s intentions and supported his statement “Damn right you are!” “Hell yeah!” Josh noticed Tom pause for a moment, and after a some consideration he said “Hey stud, why don’t you join the wrestling team?” Tyler replied with glee: “Yeah, that’s a wicked idea! We can go down to the gym now and get a feel for things now, if you want.” He was shocked. Him? But, he supposed, he would be growing bigger soon anyway, not that they knew that. And Sam was on the team... Josh thought for a moment about if it was worth the risk. Big, sweaty hunks in close proximity wearing nothing but singlets sounded real good right about now. Josh looked at them with a smirk and said “Sure, I’m sure it won’t be too hard to learn. And,” he continued, now smiling, “It might help me grow a bit bigger all over.” Tyler and Tom lead Josh down to the gym. The weights were on the opposite end of the building so hopefully Sam didn’t stumble upon him. Once there, they found a singlet that only loosely fit Josh, but he told them he’d grow into it. If only they knew how quickly he planned to do so. They measured his stats, as followed: Height: 5” 9’ Weight: 177 pounds Arms: 16 inches Chest: 46 inches Quads: 22 inches If he remembered correctly, Sam was only 200 pounds. He was gaining closer and closer to Sam’s mass. Tyler and Tom showed Josh the basics, such as stance (which he had already had mastered), level changes, and a bunch of boring illegal moves. What really excited Josh was when they started talking about takedowns. Because while Tyler was going on about holding someone down, Josh noticed a feeling in the back of his mind. It was something different that wasn’t quite there before. Struggling to understand what it was, he considered for a moment. It felt like it had always been there, but Josh had never felt it properly. He pictured in his mind the act of growing, of it getting easier and easier to take someone down, holding them down as your whole body outgrows them by double, then triple, until you dominate them completely, the vision of his silhouette slowly expanding to gigantic, hunky proportions, until- he felt it. It was like a tap, he could turn it on and off whenever he pleased. He had figured out how to control his growth. Whatever was causing it before was negligible, he felt like he was in control of the lever accelerated the rate that he grew. Tyler was going on about strength, which only heightened the complete euphoria Josh was feeling as he made himself grow just a little to test his newfound power. Sure enough, as he channeled the energy inside of him, making himself sturdier, bigger and stronger, his eye level started to rise. The previously loose fitting singlet was feeling tighter and tighter as he grew wider and thicker, taller and stronger. He put a hand to the python downstairs which was pulsating with mass, causing the singlet to sag further down. His growing arms were getting further away from his body as his lats pushing them away. His quads felt huge with no clothing constructing them, and he could almost hear the earthquake like vibrations his growth was surely causing. He absentmindedly flexed his arm and massaged it, watching it surge in size. He smirked as he realised he was now taller than both Tom and Tyler, dwarfing them by half an inch and gaining. “Holy shit, Josh, are you listening to me?” He snapped back to reality, and felt the growth slow to a halt. “Your bicep is looking fucking huge, man.” Tom said with awe. And Tyler chimed in “You’re looking bigger all over dude. Especially...” They stared at his bulge. It did look ridiculous, stuffed into a singlet that was probably even a size too small for Josh now. And it was thoughts like that that didn’t exactly make his erection go down. Josh looked at them again. As much as he wanted to worship them, he... has an idea, first. Knowing that they would do anything he asked, he asked them whether they could text Sam to let him know about he was joining the wrestling team. And that Josh challenged Sam to a wrestling match. Tomorrow morning. While Sam was definitely more skilled, Josh had a few tricks up his sleeve. While Tyler and Tom were arguing over who should send the text, Josh sneakily downed another 3 pills. He wouldn’t feel the effects immediately, but when he did it was sure to be incredible. Tyler showed Josh the angry reply Sam had left demanding to know why they let Josh join the team. Josh considered for a moment what to say. Before he could think of anything however, a second text came through. This time it was Sam agreeing to the wrestling match but demanding that he and Josh met up 15 minutes beforehand. Josh told them to agree to to the meet up and to answer no more further questions. There was no doubt Sam now realised that Josh had taken his bottle of pills and was using the extra muscle mass to join the wrestling team. Josh planned on Sam thinking this, because his comeuppance was going to rely on it. He, Tyler and Tom spent the rest of the night goofing off at the wrestling mat and teaching Josh the different strategies. When night fell, with Josh grinning when remembered that he had to duck underneath doors, Tyler offered to let Josh stay at his and Toms apartment until morning. They all walked back to the apartment in their wrestling singlets, bulges and pecs bouncing as they walked. Tyler let him borrow his clothes to sleep in, which were now much too small for Josh’s enormous proportions, but were still better than his old clothes. Josh waited until they were both sleeping to stroke his massive dick, which he measured at 9 inches hard, getting off on what had happened today. This morning, he probably didn’t even come up to Tyler or Toms shoulders in height. And now- he came, loudly, thinking about how he was an inch taller than them. He was growing into a massive stud, and he loved every minute. Josh slept like a log, and when morning came he was more than ready to take on Sam. He felt energised, and swallowed 3 more pills to fuel the growth that was coming later in the day. He thanked Tyler and Tom for letting him stay and that he would see them at the match. Still wearing Tyler’s clothes, he made his way back to his dorm, climbing effortlessly up to the 2nd storey to peek through the window of his bedroom to check that Sam wasn’t in there. He imagined the sight of him, a muscle bound jock in clothes too small scaling the side of a block of dorms. He groaned in discomfort. His manhood was quite restricted in the already tight clothing, and giving himself erections weren’t helping matters. Once he double checked that Sam wasn’t in, he let himself into the dorm and ran up to his and Sam’s bedroom. Although he had been ducking under doors all day, something about ducking under the door that previously he had only seen Sam do was infinity arousing. Once there, he stripped down to his underwear and marvelled at the sight of himself in the reflection of the now small mirror. He was, simply, enormous. He didn’t even all fit onto the mirror, so he had to crane his neck to look at his various features. His shoulders, probably the hardest to see due to their width, were ridiculously wide, at least the length of his head twice. He flexed them. They made his gigantic pecs look even larger! His pecs stuck out by 2 or 3 inches, large squishy mounds of unfathomably huge muscle. He put a hand to them and squeezed, admiring the sheer size and softness of them, awing at the fact one of his hands didn’t even reach around the whole pec. His biceps were a sight to behold too. Long were the days that Sam’s arm was 3x the thickness of his, his now rivalled Sam’s in girth. He did a double bicep, watching how the peaks were almost vertical with height, huge and hunky, packed densely with solid MUSCLE. He put a hand over them, flexing, and couldn’t even make a dent no matter how hard he squeezed. He though to himself; did that make him strong or weak? It didn’t matter. He knew he was becoming a sexy beast, and that was all that mattered. His forearms were massive and veiny monsters, leading down to his equally wide hands. He looked down at his six pack, which was looking more like an eight pack with racks of stone hard muscle that tapered down to his tiny waist. He turned to the size and ogled at his butt. It stuck out substantially more than his pecs did, 2 lumps of jiggly gluteus muscle. He squeezed it, feeling how if he relaxed the muscle was buoyant and bouncy, but flexing it made it impenetrable. His quads were huge as well, thick logs of muscle that could crush a watermelon between them. He flexed again once more, pushing away the thought of making himself grow. No. He had to stick to the plan, as tempting as it was. Just another half an hour or so and he could do as he pleased. The reason he came back to the dorm was to wear some better fitting clothes. Since neither Tyler nor Toms wardrobe fit him anymore, and his certainly didn’t, he turned towards Sam’s. He greedily picked out Sam’s favourite compression long sleeve shirt that he always wore to the gym. It fit a lot tighter than he thought it would - not that it was actually tight, but Josh still couldn’t believe he could actually wear Sam’s clothes without them looking enormous on him. They fit only slightly loosely, and it was miles better than walking around in what felt like children’s clothes. He put on compression trousers to match, leaving his only skin exposed being his head and his hands. He took another pill just in case he hadn’t taken enough before. This was going to be fun. He made his way out of the room, ducking, and towards campus, where Sam said he would meet him in 10 minutes, which was 15 minutes before the game. Sam was surely confident Josh would get beaten to a pulp. He entered the changing rooms not a minute too early. After the door slammed shut behind him and he walked a few feet down the corridor, he heard Sams deep voice call out to him. “That better fucking be you, Josh!” Josh only smiled to himself. He walked into the changing room Sams voice came from and was immediately confronted by Sam. Oh boy. He was not prepared for how much SMALLER Sam looked from this angle. The fact that Josh was so much taller than he used to be was making Sam look so much less imposing. Sam still has 2 inches on him, but it didn’t feel like much at all. When Sam turned around he gasped in shock at the size of Josh. He looked at his pecs, his arms, his legs, in desperation, until he looked down at his eyes and saw he still maintained the height advantage. He spoke coldly and quietly, as if he expected Josh to hang onto every word. “That’s my fucking shirt.” Josh only looked at him inquisitively, mentally preparing for what he was sure was about to happen. “I said,” Sam started again, louder this time, “that’s my fucking shirt!” Josh smirked, then flexed his pecs. “It fits me pretty well, don’t you think?” He said, “Think I’m gonna outgrow it pretty soon though”. Josh flared his lats, trying to aggravate Sam. It worked - he suddenly got close to Josh, grabbing him by the arms and pushing him up against the wall. “It was you, wasn’t it? You took my pills. Hah, I must’ve left them on the dresser for ten minutes and you nabbed them. And look at the state of you now.” He gestured to Josh’s now huge body. Not quite as big as Sam’s however, which Sam took with stride. “Hah, even with the pills, you’re still the smaller man. Once I take the pills back from you, once you stop TAKING THE PILLS THAT ARE RIGHTFULLY MINE, you won’t be able to handle the sudden absence of them. After a few days off of them your body will start shrinking. Smaller and smaller you’ll get, until I can squash you with my FOOT!” Josh couldn’t help but be slightly afraid of him. He was shouting now, completely uncaring whether anyone outside of the changing rooms heard him. But Josh still had a few things left to do. “So if I stop taking the pills, then after a few days I start to shrink, right? Is that what’s going to happen to you?” Josh finished the sentence with what he hoped was a cocky smirk. Sam looked him dead in the eyes and muttered “Give them to me.” Josh smiled back into his face. “GIVE THEM TO ME!!” Sam tore Josh’s bag off of his shoulder, ripping the strap, and rummaged through it, looking for the pills. He ripped open the side compartment deliriously which was now completely empty. Josh had hidden the cut outs of the magazine away in his room, and he was holding the pills of the hour in his right hand. He held them out with a snarl. “You want them? Come and get them.” Sam leapt at Josh’s hand, trying to claw it open. Josh’s grip was strong, but Sam was definitely stronger and was getting closer to unclamping Josh’s hand. And that’s when Josh focused his energy on growing. He wanted to wait for the perfect moment, so Sam would slowly realise he could no longer overpower this growing muscle jock. And grow he did. It started slow, his chest puffing bigger, creating bigger creases underneath it in the tight compression shirt, the fabric over his pecs stretching tighter and tighter. The hem of his shirt rose to become level with the top of his trousers. Josh looked at Sam again. He was getting close to eye level. Sam realised what was happening and tried harder, his fingernails clawing at the bottle tightly clasped in Josh’s hand. He yelled in anger “What the actual fuck Josh!” But it was no use. Josh let out an orgasmic moan as his shoulder stretched further, at least three times as wide as his head both sides. He was growing into a muscle god and Sam was powerless to stop it. He desperately pulled back on Josh’s hand, nearly taking Josh with him, but Josh had grown the muscles needed to fight back now. He watched the bulge in his compression shorts surge bigger, pushing it into Sam’s face as he knelt down to get the bottle of pills back. Sam stood up in disgust, still trying to pry the pills out with more desperation that ever. Their hard bulges were now touching, and while Josh’s was slightly lower than Sam’s that was all about to change. Sam’s face was one of shock, fear, and envy as he watched Josh’s eye level creep higher. Josh paid extra attention to this, watching as his eyes finally became equal to Sam’s own eyes. He locked eyes with him and copied the smirk he’d seen Sam do at him so many times before. And then his eye level kept rising, becoming level with Sam’s eyebrows. He was taller than Sam. His dick, already hard, came instantly. The euphoria hit him, this was unreal. HE WAS BIGGER THAN SAM!! If you looked at their silhouettes straight on, you would only see Josh’s outline. He was bigger. And Josh kept growing larger still. The compression shirt which Josh had always envied Sam for filling out was slowly being outgrown by Josh’s pure muscle mass. Josh laughed, lifting his bicep and being awed but not surprised at the size of the muscle he was greeted with. The shirt stretched taught over his expanding bi’s, and was getting tighter by the second. He felt the fabric get closer its limit, something that Sam was never able to do. All the while he was growing taller still, and Josh could now see the top of Sam’s head. Josh looked down at the hem of his shirt, noticing that it exposed his second set of abs on his midriff due to a mixture of his growing height and it being pulled up by his enormous pecs. This shirt, which fit Sam perfectly, was being torn to shreds by Josh’s expanding body. Sam, upon realising he had lost, tried to flee, but Josh grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. Josh grasped Sam’s hand and compared it to his own, watching his fingers inch bigger and bigger. Josh dialled up the growth internally to see how big he could really get. Still clasping Sam’s arm in his ever growing one, Josh held Sam’s chin tightly in much the same way he used to do to him. He flexed his double biceps, pleased to hear the sound of tearing fabric as his football sized arms kept getting beefier. His chin was now level with the top of Sam’s head, and still rising, at least an inch ever half minute. He felt the top of his head brush the ceiling. The trousers only came up halfway to his shins, and a massive rip down the side of them told him that they no longer fit him at all. He was absolutely gigantic and Sam was powerless to stop him from growing even larger. “Josh, let me GO!” Sam screamed. Josh instead grabbed his shrinking hand and brought it to Josh’s abs, which the shirt had exposed completely. In fact, it was just underneath his humongous pecs and still rising, although the sound of seams splitting implied wouldn’t fit inside it for much longer. Josh bought Sam’s hand to his abs, making him touch the hot, hard bricks of muscle, each ab the size of Sam’s hand. Josh nearly orgasmed again when he felt his massive pecs literally bursting through his shirt. The warm locker room air on his growing chest muscles felt so good. Josh lost himself in the feeling of growing, bigger, stronger, thicker, hunkier... Until he was pulled out of his growth trance by his phone alarm. He forced himself to stop, as his alarm signalled the start of the wrestling match. Sam looked up at him, Josh’s face obscured by his enormous pecs, he was shirtless save for the small amount of fabric remaining around his midriff. Josh’s trousers were torn to shreds, and his boxers left nothing to the imagination. The bulge in his boxers was still hard and curved around the side of his leg, at least 15 inches of pure meat. Sam stuttered below him. “W-we can cancel the match, right? You’d win anyway, I think.” Josh only looked at him with an evil glint in his eye. “No, I think not..” he paused, and then flexed his double biceps, growing another inch of height as he spoke, “I think your team wants to see who the BIGGER man is.” Thanks for reading! I might add more but if I don’t then consider this the ending
  18. Hello guys. Here is my second attempt at a story. It is inspired by a story I loved years ago called Angel about a god named Grant. Please give me some feedback GENE THERAPY I host a poker night with my friends every Friday night with some people I went to high school with back in the day. It has been about 20 years since I graduated, but we were still really close. The only person I didn’t really care for David. He was always an asshole to me when I was younger, and he continued the tradition 20 years later. He had it all. He was the most popular kid in high school, and he grew up to be just an arrogant piece of shit. He always made fun of me and when we got together for game night he would still refer to me as a faggot or a loser. His wife would just giggle and laugh at his remarks and my friends just let it happen because they did not want to be the next victims of his assault. But he was still close with one or two of my buds so we always kept inviting him. Dave always thought he was the shit. Had a great body, great job, and a wife that kissed the ground he walked on. Despite being treated badly by him I still found him sexy as fuck. Back in the day I used to watch him getting changed in the locker room. Fuck he had a hot body and he never let it go like most of the kids in high school did. It only improved. I can only imagine what those abs look like now. I’m sure he caught me staring several times in school which is why I got all the faggot comments. Why do assholes always have to be so hot?! I knew I should have canceled poker night tonight when my friends bailed but Dave told me “Fuck no pansy. We are doing this”. So he came over and we played poker as usual and he took me for a clean 300. He always has to rub it in too. “You little cocksucker. That was the easiest 300 I’ve made in a long time.” He jabbed me in the arm and left with his wife. She just laughed and taunted along with him. Fuck that was a hard punch. I felt sore for a good hour later I went to bed all sad and upset. After all these years and he still rips me. So what if I’m gay? I was a good person. I’m used to it though. I’ve been single my whole life. I’m not quite the best looking of men, pudgy, nerdy. And in the gay world who would want that? And the types of guys I like? Unfortunately guys like Dave. I love muscle and attitude. The thought of running my hands over a chiseled body and he letting me do that was such a turn on. But alas I’m alone and I’ve never had the pleasure of being with anyone with muscle like that The next morning I woke up feeling completely relaxed unusually. I hadn’t had a good night sleep like that in a long time. My dick was hard and I thought it was just morning wood but then I reached down and felt that my underwear was wet and sticky. A wet dream? I thought And then I remembered. “Oh fuck that dream!” I had the most amazing dream. I dreamt of the hottest most ripped bodybuilder standing in front of a mirror hitting mind blowing poses just for his own enjoyment. He got hard and started masturbating to himself. That must have been when I unloaded because that’s the last thing I remember. I get so turned on by self worship. I’m almost to the point that I would pay some ripped up guy to do that in front of me. I really want to live out my fantasies. I’m a good person! I’m entitled to some sort of happiness I slowly got out of bed when a sudden smell hit me. It was such an enticing aroma just like my house used to smell when I was a child and my mother cooked for me. I was becoming hypnotized but then suddenly woke up from my trance to the sounds of pans clashing. “What the fuck was that?” I said out loud. I had a sudden pang fear thinking I was being robbed I slowly walked down the stairs and kept hearing pans and dishes being moved around. It was coming from the kitchen. I saw nothing as I walked in but as I scanned the room I saw the waffle iron in use and on the burners eggs were being cooked. Then the pans again as it was coming from behind my kitchen island “Who’s there?! Show yourself!” I yelled with my voice cracking Then he stood up from behind the island. My jaw literally dropped. He was a god. He stood up at least 6’ with a tight t shirt covering his body. A shirt that looked painted on. His pecs bulged through the fabric and you can see individual fibers contract and move under the shirt. Biceps peaked and threatened to tear through his sleeve. His back widened like thick wings tapering down to a tiny waist. His face was beautiful. Maybe 20 years old, cut jaw line, perfect blonde hair, high cheek bones and the most piercing blue eyes. Even in my fear I felt my dick get hard. Those arms though. They must have been 18 inches cold! “There 18.5 and harder than fucking titanium. Good morning! Breakfast?” He said as he gave his arm a quick flex by his side and winked at me “Who the hell are you and how did you get into my house?” A fucking bodybuilder broke into my house and is cooking breakfast? Is this The Twilight Zone?! “I’m your servant. I’ve been assigned to you.” “Servant? Assigned? What the fuck?!” I asked “You see Jason my people have been watching you. You haven’t had the best life, but you are kind, generous, and in need of someone like me. I am everything you’ve ever wanted and more. I know everything about you. I can read your mind and I know everything you are thinking. I am here for anything you want me for. Anything your heart desires, or anything your mind thinks, is my bidding. I am yours “ “Wait what? I don’t understand” how did he even know my name? “You see Jason you have spent your whole life being kind and good to others only to be treated like garbage. That ends today. I am anything you want me to be and can do anything you order me to do, and performing them defines my existence. It drives me. This body for example? It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of in a man is it not? Here sit down” he said My knees felt weak but I sat down at the table. He walked over with chocolate chip waffles and eggs Benedict that he made from scratch and put them in front of me. “Eat up” he said “Wow this is my favorite. My mom used to make this for me when I was a child”. “I know” he smiled Oh my god. I took a bite and it tasted exactly like it did when I was a child. Every ingredient was perfect. What the fuck! I was having a hard time wrapping my head around this “I see your having a hard time wrapping your head around this” he said. It was like he read my mind. He looked deep in my eyes, gave me a cocky grin and said out of the blue “that’s some dream you had last night. I think I can do a little better” I didn’t tell him about my dream but then his eyes left my gaze and moved to his bicep. “Fuck look at that arm” he flexed it hard and rubbed the peak with his other hand. He tried to dent it himself but couldn’t. “Look at that split! God himself would cum if he saw these babies.” He wasn’t even talking to me anymore. He was talking to himself worshiping himself like the guy in my dream He moved his chair in front of me, leaned back and brought his arm up behind his head so the peak of his arm was practically pushing in the side of his head. He turned to his bicep and looked at it lovingly. He squeezed his fist hard as cord like veins ran thick from his hands and snaked over his flexed bicep disappearing into his shirt. He traced them with his eyes. He pulsed his grip watching the vein push against the fabric of his shirt clearly seeing it under the cloth. His skin so thin you could almost see blood flowing. He slowly brought his face to his pit and inhaled deeply and slowly getting high from his own scent biting his lower lip. “Oh fuck” he said as he then ran his tongue over the mound right before putting his whole mouth on top of the peak moaning as he sloppily made out with it. I looked down and I saw his massive cock elongate down his leg against his mammoth quad. Holy shit it was massive and thick as fuck! He twisted his wrist in and out. We both heard it...a slow long rip erupted as his arm seemed to grow and thicken as the peak tore through his sleeve. “Not even at the fucking seam” he said to himself. He tongue fucked the split head and used his other hand to grab his triceps and push his bicep deeper into his mouth. It was better than any porn I’d seen. He then brought his hand down and started rubbing his cock through his skin tight hand in slow long strokes. I was getting so turned on as he moaned and sucked harder and harder making out with his bicep bucking his hips while stroking his cock. He then yelped as a huge wet spot formed in the inner part of his thigh reaching all the way to his knee. He breathed heavily and put his arm down. He looked at me and said “how’s that for self worship?” “Holy shit I can’t believe you just did that! That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!” That was better than the dream I had! “Oh we are just getting started Jason. There’s nothing your little heart desires that I can’t do to please you. And I’m here forever.” I still was incredulous and he smiled as I thought that “I’m like your personal genie. But unlike genies there are no limits to your wishes. However you can call me Gene. Tell me Jason, what do you want to see?” I didn’t know where to begin. Nothing like this could ever happen to someone like me. Good things happen to people like Dave and his bitch wife. If only they got what was coming to them! “Understood” he said “What?” I was confused “Go upstairs and get cleaned up Jason. We are going to have a little fun”
  19. Hello yall! First time I post a story here I believe! For Halloween, this year, I've been working on making a transformation/growth-mystery story (based on the murder-mystery genre) and thought I could post it here if some of yall are into that! This series will have show multiple takes on masculinization, mostly about making huge, beefy and muscled bearish guys. If that's your thing and you like some story plot around the meat, here's something for you! I think I will add the next chapters on this thread, so you won't have to look around the forums for the previous instalment if needed. Without further ado, here's the prologue to the story! ***Disclaimer: the prologue does not contain sex scenes or physical changes yet, but serves as an introduction to the ten characters and to set the story context. Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. At 10 PM, lights shut off, phones fry up, game starts and none can leave. What’s more, it seems there is one imposter among them. Can they make it out until morning? What is this “game” all about anyway? ~ One of Us ~ Prologue ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:00 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The full moon forecasted on Halloween, a Saturday, promised a memorable night… if it was not for the whole pandemic thing. Halloween couldn’t just be cancelled. There could have been a tornado or an earthquake and the festivities would have still happened. Who cared for a stupid invisible virus! It was a mild evening by the Wrights’ house on the outskirts of Austin Town. Dimitri, a tall twenty-year-old who lifted weights daily had invited a couple of buddies for Halloween. He didn’t care for the pandemic and had the mansion by himself since his parents were out of town — he forgot exactly where. But all he cared for, in the moment, was throwing the party with his friends. He put on a cowboy hat, a checkered vest and a pair of faded jeans to look the part. The only boots he found around his home were his father’s 13s, which felt tight on the sides for his big boy ones. After all, he was two inches taller than his six-foot dad. The mansion hall was grandiose, looking as if it came from a movie or catalogue. A big staircase sculpted into rich oak wood crept the left wall of the hall and led to the upper rooms. On the right wall, a more discreet yet still impressive staircase led down to the basement, where the theatre room and the home bar would receive the guests later during the night. Next to the last staircase, wide double doors opened on a spacious living room. A fireplace took place on the left wall, right next to a sturdy door, and under a big plasma TV. Two long couches surrounded a glass table at the centre of the room, onto which half a dozen big bowls were filled with candies and chips. Against the farther wall, a tennis table had been set up by the garage door, onto which red plastic cups had been piled. Right next to the table, Dimitri’s best friend Asher was sitting on a stool with a beer can in hand. The 5′9″ man did not wait for other guests to show up before cracking up a beer and taking a handful of chips. He was dressed up in camo clothes and a war helmet — which consisted of a grotesquely painted bicycle helmet. The man scrolled through the song playlist in his phone, plugged into the speakers, hanging in the high corners of the room. He had created a selection of spooky and Halloween-themed song to play, but had somehow managed to either lose or erase it. To his feet under the table, Dimitri had a cooler which contained the few six-packs of beers he’s brought along for the night — probably the only six-pack thing about the bulky guy. Whereas Asher did not have abdominals to show, the bearded redhead had his own share of strength. Asher was telling his friend the latest conquest he’s had when a loud booming car entered the driveway. The two men looked through the wide windows of the living room, noticing how more of the guests arrived. Two more men and their girlfriends walked out of the car. The two girls were the first to get out, a short yet curvy dirty blond and a tall svelte latina with jet black hair. A short man on the passenger side joined the girl of similar height while the driver, a giant although quite lanky young man, turned the ignition off and joined with the crew. “Yo! Is that the double Js!” Asher called out through the window with a tipsy laugh, before following the host back in the hall to greet the guests. “In the flesh and the hair!” The taller man — Sebastian Joseph — replied with a wide grin over his stubbly face, ruffling his head full of shaggy chestnut hair for effect. The other shorter guy — Theodore James — walked with a crate full of beers, letting out an enthusiastic “got the booze” to the host. Albeit not dressed in their costumes yet, the quartet had a few bags with them, giving the impression they would change once inside. “Need help with something, boys?” The raven-haired girl asked with a giggle. “I do, Mathy, but I doubt your ‘tall-boi’ here would agree to share ya with me.” Asher chuckled before receiving a playful blow from giga-Seb on the shoulder. The girls jiggled between each other at the display of rough masculinity between the guys. Theo made himself silent as he brought the beer and his backpack inside. “Perhaps Theo might be more compliant on the deal with Jenny, though.” The womanizer grinned as he sized up the short blond. “Don’t you dare touching my girl, bro!” Theodore shouted from the inside. “Bro, just keep your dick in your pants.” Dimitri slapped his best friend teasingly on the back as he was taking a sip of beer, resulting in him spitting some down. “Dude, bro! Don’t do that! You can’t waste that shit!” Asher dramatized as booze also leaked into his beard and camo vest. In the middle of laughs, the short girl asked if there was a room where they could get changed. “Yeah, there’s a bathroom in the corridor behind the stairs.” Dimitri pointed at the staircase. “First door to your left, girls.” “Need some assistance, girls?” Asher joked again. “We’ll be fine, dickhead.” Jenny rolled her eyes, although still amused. “Come on, Mathilda.” “You’ll see, boys. Once we’ll be out, you’ll be the ones asking for our help!” The latina giggled, winking at them before following her bossy little friend. “I’ll be waiting for that!” Asher exclaimed, grabbing his crotch for emphasis. “Dude, have you gotten laid recently?” Sebastian elbowed the bulky womanizer. “I did, but that pandemic thing right now is really killing my strike. Can’t believe there’s so many scared pussies around. It’s terrifying for the male race, dude.” “Unless you’re a fag, bro!” Sebastian chuckled. “Aww, fuck off, dude!” Asher smirked before finishing his beer. “Hmm… let me get myself another one. Or just come in and get one yourself.” The three guys went into the living room, where Theodore was missing. “Theo? Buddy? Where’re you at?” Dimitri called the little guy. “I think he went for the kitchen.” Sebastian said, pulling a furry toque from the bag in his hands. “Alright, I’m gonna check on him if he needs anything.” Dimitri left his two friends going in the living room and went for the double doors leading to the left of the hall. He entered a large dining room with a long table that could welcome a dozen people to eat. He remembered how his mother, a judge in the federal court, used to make parties with her colleagues years ago. The expanse of the furniture in the room proved to be useful when his brother or himself invited friends over. The host walked past a second fireplace in the dining room until he reached a broad door leading into the kitchen. Right by the counter, Theodore was looking as if he was texting someone. “Hey, dude, what are you doing?” Theo startled at the question, not realizing someone had walked in on him. He turned around with a blush on his face and a nervous laugh. “Hey! I… didn’t hear you walking in.” “Bro… I know this face! Who were you talking to?” Dimitri asked with a coy grin, lowering his voice. “No one!” Theo brushed off, storing his phone back into his pocket and proceeding to store some food and booze in the fridge for later tonight. “Your call, dude!” Dimitri lifted his hands in acceptance. “C’mon and get your ass in the room with the boys! Let’s get this party going!” Right on cue, Asher’s spooky music started blowing through the speakers of the living room. As they joined Asher and Seb, the two men were just starting a beer pong game. Seb had put on the toque on his head and a plaid jacket on top of his now naked chest. The lanky giant had a few sparse chest hair and a meagre treasure trail, but little to no definition whatsoever. To complement the look, he even had an axe which he let by the couch for the moment. “Hope you don’t mind the view, guys!” Sebastian mocked by faking a striptease. “You’re such a dork, Seb!” Theo guffawed at the ridicule of his friend. “Hey, not my fault if no one can resist me! Remember that gay dude in High School, guys?” “That was fucking hilarious!” The short guy laughed at the memory. “SUP, BITCHES!” A voice echoed from the hall. The crew turned around and greeted with enthusiasm the arrival of a new party member. Already wearing his costume, Wesley entered the place like he owned it. The man was wearing old ratty and torn clothes as well as a puffy hat. His face looked even paler than usual and large dark circles surrounded his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in ages. “What are you dressed as, my old Wes?” Sebastian asked with a toothy grin, welcoming him with an arm around the shoulders. “A tramp?” “Funny one, Seb! Nah, I’m more like an undead or zombie kinda thing. Or a Frankenstein, whatever.” “Actually, Frankenstein is the scientist and not the monster.” Theodore intervened. “I doubt you meant the—…” “Ahh shut up, nerd. You know who I’m talkin’ about.” Wes spited in annoyance. “Hey, play cool, guys.” Dimitri chuckled. “Say, how about we play some beer pong?” “Well, I think I’m gonna take a shit while you’re debating what you’re gonna do.” Asher said. “That’s fucking nasty, dude!” Seb grimaced and chuckled at the same time. “Guess you’ll have to take the downstairs one, dude. The bitches are taking their sweet fucking time here.” Dimitri said, just loud enough so that the girls in question could hear his comment. “Tie a knot with your dicks if you can’t wait, fuckers!” They heard back from the bathroom, probably from Jennifer. “Are we having some single ladies tonight?” Wes asked with a devious grin plastered on his face, idly rubbing his crotch. “Apparently not, bro.” Asher sympathized with a shoulder pat as he walked past him. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:30 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ It was pretty annoying how, despite the good insulation of the house, Larry could still hear the noise of his big brother’s party upstairs. With the pandemic stuff going on, he would have thought he could just spend a nice calming night playing videogames just as he always does. Oh well. The six-foot eighteen years old stretched into his gaming chair, dropping his Xbox controller on his lap. While he used to be a regular gym goer, the pandemic had benefited him and his brother with buying gym equipment. Well, it was their parents who actually paid, but that was beside the point. Between gaming and working out, Larry had grown a more athletic shape without even needing to leave the house. Sure, he wanted to eventually achieve thick proportions like Dimitri, who could almost pass for a bodybuilder now, but he believed he’d get there sooner or later. “Yo! Lar!” A voice boomed into the room as the door barged opened. The young man jumped with surprise at the sudden outburst. He turned around, mostly nude except from an old stained pair of boxer shorts covering his junk. There, in the entrance, stood Asher, booze in hand, laughing. “Phew! Glad I didn’t barge into you whacking off again!” The trickster exclaimed. “Get the fuck out!” Larry snapped, beet red. Larry grabbed onto the first object he didn’t value much — an empty beer can — and threw it at his brother’s friend, who closed the door just in time. The gamer heard the man step away, still laughing. His heartbeat was still high, but Larry was calming down. He turned back to his station and tried changing games, only to remember his account had been suspended from Fortdey. “Guess I’ll just play some Olah Reach.” The teen shrugged, scratching at the rough stubble he had not shaved in days. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:45 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “How do I look?” Mathilda asked to her friend as she applied the makeup. “You’re looking like a queen.” Jennifer complimented, finally stepping and showing her the result. The Latina beamed with joy at her display in the mirror. She looked just like Cleopatra. As for her shorter pal, she had disguised herself with a little white dress and brought her hair into a green flowery bulb on top of her head. Pink heels, transparent wings and a rooty wand complemented her appearance as a forest fairy. “Ready to show off to the boys?” Jennifer enticed. “You bet your ass, girl!” “Let’s get a round of salute!” “Heeeere we coooome!” Mathilda announced to the guys as they walked out into the lobby. Crossing the hall into the living room, the chicks were greeted with a series of wolf whistles and acclamations. Since the moment they entered the bathroom, a few more guests had joined the party. In addition to Wes, two more men had arrived. One of them was Braxton, an ex-neighbour of Dimitri, who moved before High School. Tall and wide-shouldered, he was almost matching Dimitri’s body builder size at about 250 pounds. Member of the football team back then, and again in college, Braxton had decided against all originality to disguise himself as a footballer for Halloween. “Talk about original, huh, Brax?” Jennifer snarked. “That’s because you’ve not seen anything yet, little girl.” He chuckled, removing his helmet. Right under the headwear, the sportsman had apparently covered his face in makeup to look like some werewolf. He had even added pointy ears and fake fangs to complement the disguise. “Wow! I must say I’m surprised you actually put some effort in your costume.” Mathilda nodded. “Hmm, yeah, I agree.” Her friend approved. “Now, does any of you wants to play with the big wolf on campus? Grrrr!” The jock joked as he acted the part. “Only if you want me to turn you into a cute puppy!” Jennifer said with a smile, raising her wand to playfully poke the footballer’s nose. “Oh! Turn him into a cat! It would look great with my costume!” The Cleopatra giggled along. “You girls are helpless!” The last guest spoke, disguised as Captain America. With his blond hair and chiselled jaw, devoid of any, the man actually looked like the Steve Rogers from the Marvel comics. Albeit a little shorter than the canon superhero, the second jock was still taller than average at 5′11″ and he depicted a stature that testified countless hours dedicated to the gym. “Victor! It’s been so long since I last saw you!” The short fairy exclaimed. “Victor?! Damn, dude, what are you on?! Tell me that’s part of the costume!” Mathilda gasped, putting a hand on her chest as she observed the massive bulk threatening the sleeves to tear. “That’s all me, ladies!” Victor laughed with his loud rich voice, flexing a bicep for evidence. The girls could almost hear in their head the seams about to rip as he tensed the enormous arm, unfortunately inaudible through the booming music. “I’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard, you see, babes?” “You can show off all you want, bro, but you ain’t got nothing on these guns!” Braxton chimed in, pushing his longtime friend aside to flex. “At least I’ve still got abs, bro!” Victor scoffed at him by shaking the soft midsection. “Put your faggy hands away, bro! It’s padding for the field!” “Sure, bro. Sure. Just be careful so that I don’t mistake you for a bear next time we go hunting, bro!” The two teasing jocks gave each other a few hits before erupting with laughter. However, when they turned around to see the girls, they had since long left them to their silly talk. They had joined in with Dimitri to play beer pong — their boyfriends nowhere to be found. The two meatheads exchanged a wolfish grin and went after the two women, intent on playing a few drinking ones with them. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 9:15 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Settled in the study, Sebastian and Wesley had been smoking and relaxing aside from the main events of the party, taking some time to catch up. Ever since Wesley has moved district with his parents as a teen, the two of them hadn’t seen each other as much as they used to in elementary school. They ended growing up in quite different neighbours. While Sebastian had lived in a middle-class environment, Wesley had been subjected to a rather lower one. Sebastian never really knew why Wes’s folks relocated there, but suspected they might have struggled financially. The roughness of these new surroundings perhaps contributed to Wes becoming reckless and carefree in the last couple weeks, such as starting taking and exchanging drugs and booze. Nonetheless, he was still Sebastian’s old friend and the tall lad just simply couldn’t forget the strong bond they’ve built up many years ago. The two men were chilling peacefully when the door to the study opened by Theodore, dressed as a wizard with a blue robe and hat. The short pal had put on a ridiculous fake white beard, but had it off in his hands, the material itching him after a while. Even if he wasn’t fond of having his glasses daily — usually opting for contacts — Theo had decided to put on the nerdy eyewear his parents shamefully bought him a couple months ago, before the pandemic happened. “There you are, guys!” Theo blurted out. “We were looking for you everywhere! Well, technically, I was the one who… whatever. Anyway, what are you doing here?” “Whether you in or out, just close the damn door!” Wes grumbled. Theo blushed red and shut it after stepping inside. Already, the strong aroma of weed hit his nose. The smell didn’t disgust him, but he couldn’t help being rational about it. “Guys, you know that thing fries your brain cells, right?” “Doesn’t take any to say you’re an annoying little twat.” The drug addict chimed. “Hey, hey…” Seb spoke before the tension arose — he pulled the handmade fag from his mouth and offered it to his standing pal by the door. “Take it and sit down with us, bro.” Imitating an obedient puppy, Theo bowed his head down slightly in submission and listened to Seb’s command like an order. After Theo sat and brought the joint to his lips, taking a puff. Wesley glared at his childhood friend, unhappy with Seb’s decision to hand out his weed stash to anyone. “There, buddy. Chill a bit with us, alright, pal?” Seb smirked as he rolled himself another fag on the old walnut desk. “Dude! Don’t you go giving my stuff to everyone here tonight, bro!” Wesley vocalized. “Calm down, Wes. That’s my little buddy Theo and I love him to death! No homo, tho, bro!” Seb chuckled as he lighted the new cig. “You’re so gay, dude.” Theo rolled his eyes. “Good thing Dimi’s a cowboy tonight.” Wesley added, setting back in the leather chair behind the computer desk. “If we’ve got a fag slipping in, that gun might have some use.” “Dude, that’s not a bit radical?” Theo frowned. “Don’t get me wrong — I don’t approve of their lifestyle choice, but we kinda need these guys in society too.” Wesley gave him a dark eye. He aggressively took his beer can on the expansive desk. “Name me one thing this garbage is good for.” He spitted out of spite. “Well… I kinda need someone to make my coffee at McDonald’s.” Theo sniggered. “And that means more girls for us.” The scorn on the drug addict’s face shifted into a scary smile as he burst into laughter. “Dude! Seb, is that the Theo guy you talked about?” “In the flesh!” Sebastian gestured like a show master. “I guess you were right. Even nerds can be funny sometimes. Maybe there’s hope for the male race after all!” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 9:45 PM ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ A party wouldn’t just be one without playing flip-the-cup. Braxton and Victor had both removed their headwear to facilitate the downing of their beer cups against the two girls with whom the competed. Mathilda now used her majestic faux-golden staff more like a cane rather than an artifact for her costume — she barely could stand anymore. Jennifer, on the other hand, had better alcohol retention, but she kept jiggling and spilling beer on the sticky table and floor. The hair she had earlier shaped into a beautiful flower bulb had lost it dynamism and now looked like a greenish muffin top. While the girls were winning another round against the jocks, Asher and Dimitri just arrived on the first floor, having dragged up a foosball table from the home bar downstairs. The guys walked across the hall into the living room where the heart of the party was beating full mast. “Foosball time!” Dimitri and Asher shouted in chorus before bursting into laughter like a buffoon duo. The call was hyping the guests enough that even the smoking trio in the study left their cave to join in the fun. The games started as teams of two, until Mathilda had the brightest idea in the world and everyone held on to only one rotator, making sides of four instead. It was crowded and people kept bickering and shoving each other out of the way, but it provided a lot of fun nonetheless. As a good host, Dimitri gave his place to his eight guests until Wesley grew bored with the game and lie back on one of the couches. Mathilda was questioning herself about her idea when a repetitive soft tug in her hair starting annoying her. She thought her hair had tangled into her costume, but when she turned around, she met with a white ghostly face screaming at her. Her shriek made everyone look for her and begin to laugh as the Latina slipped on the wet floor and fell on her ass. Right behind her stood a tall person dressed in robes as dark as night, with the mask of Ghostface, holding in a knife in its hand. The figure was soon grabbed into a headlock by Dimitri, then Braxton, the three of them slipping on the ground as well. The two brutes had the stalker under control until they also heard the laughs coming from underneath the costume. “You should have seen her face!” The voice guffawed. “Larry? What the fuck, bro!” Dimitri exclaimed in shock, but soon after joined in the laugh. The two men on top of him moved and the host took his little brother’s hand to help him back up. Mathilda, embarrassed to no end, snapped with anger, failing to stand by keeping on slipping on the beer-covered floor. “You’re such a creep!” She pestered at him, red with humiliation. Jennifer tried pulling her back up via the Egyptian staff — while her boyfriend was laughing out loud — but the two girls ended falling on top of each other. “Jenny — ouch! Seb — DO SOMETHING! You, fucker! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna kill you ALL! All of you!” “Alright, alright.” Sebastian complied, walking to help his lover up. “That was a good one, bro!” Dimitri approved, giving Larry a brotherly slap on the back. “Though you should run away while you can!” “I was just coming to get a few snacks before my raid.” Larry pulled his mask off, beaming a content smile. “Well, you—…” Lights went off abruptly. Music faded into nothingness. Total darkness invaded the space. The surprised cries and exclamations were absorbed into the thick void surrounding the party members. Dimitri tried to bring back the attention to him when, out of a sudden, the fireplace lightened by itself, diffusing a dimmed orange hue to the vast living room. “What the fuck is going on?!” Dimitri blurted out in confusion. “HELLO.” A distorted voice echoed from the corners of the room and from within each present individual. The first one to take his phone out was Theo, who attempted to use its flashlight. Only then did he realize his screen looked glitched out — the alien sound came from its small speakers. “What… guys! My phone’s bugged!” “Fucking hell?! Mine too!” Braxton added before the distorted voice spoke again. “Tonight is not like any others. The ten of you gathered here is no mere coincidence. Each of you, to an extent depicted examples of homophobic bigotry against people, which lead to the self-destruction and suffering of poor, weaker-minded individuals.” “Where the fuck are you?” Seb asked aloud, taking in his hands the axe he’s left by the couch earlier. “Show yourself!” The voice continued: “Braxton Bellman — your jealousy against Richard Biggs making the football team only fuelled your homophobic bigotry to kick him out. But the school wouldn’t let him out because he was the best player. So, you made sure to ‘accidentally’ have his leg broken so that he couldn’t play on the team anymore. Did that bitter win in your hollow head made up for all the further matches your team lost? Victor Fortune — whilst you confidently say you are a handsome fuck machine, you had often pushed back the advances of numerous people because of their skin colour or orientation. You never miss a chance to proudly display your confederation flag to show much of a white suprematist you are. You used your straight white cis male privileges to influence many peers as the representative student in school, disrespecting whoever didn’t share the same traits as yours. Theodore James — you do not exert physical violence to assert your intolerance, but you rather attack psychologically your victims. The shameful names and stereotypes you call them instead of the proper ones make them all the more vulnerable to others who would act brutally. Sebastian Joseph — in any room you go, you attract anyone’s eyes. You are the tall, charismatic, person any man or woman would love to spend a good time with. However, this handsome shell of yours hides a dark soul. In pure malice, you used your good looks to flirt with Henri Thompson, just to play him out as a whole joke in front of the school. That man still is afraid to date anyone today. Mathilda Lopez — instead of sympathizing with your ex-boyfriend Greg when he confided you with his bisexuality, you acted like the worst bitch ever. Not only you broke up with him, but you leaked multiple personal pics of him on social media, shaming him for his sexual orientation as well, resulting in having him brutalized and sent to the ER. He is still in the coma to this day. Wesley Peterson — you are a dropout and a thug who doesn’t give a damn about anyone other than himself. You vandalized Oliver McClay’s car and locker with graffiti in High School, showing the world that he was homosexual. Know that Oliver McClay took his own life a month after changing school. Asher Ship — your homophobic bigotry against your younger brother Ken has led him into clinical depression. This led him to grow overweight and develop paranoia. He even tried to take his own life numerous times, almost succeeding more than once. It’s a miracle of sorts if he is still alive today. Jennifer Taylor — nobody can confide you anything. When Roger Mayer shared you his biggest secret that he was a homosexual, you betrayed him and told others. No longer a mystery, Roger’s parents eventually heard about it, making his life as miserable at home as he’s had it at school. Say, when was the last time you talked with Roger? Were you even his friend? Dimitri Wright — host of the night, you clearly selected your guests carefully. Your fingers probably don’t make up for the number of wedgies you’ve given those homosexuals and intellectuals in school. You’re a leader, but you used your diplomatic gifts to bully others rather than implementing justice. Perhaps it’s time to turn the tables? Finally, Larry Wright — just like your brother Dimitri, you have deeply rooted homophobia. If you come across a gay guy in your Fortdey servers, you don’t hesitate to shame and tag them, taking mischievous pleasure in bashing and blackmailing them. Sucks when the servers suspend your account for inappropriate actions, does it?” A hard-felt silence weighed on the ten young adults, to which Wes blurted out: “So fuckin’ what?!” before being hushed at. “Now that your facets are displayed on the table, let’s play a little game, shall we? If you can make it intact by six in the morning, I will let you go. Oh, but we can’t allow cheater, don’t we? No one can leave the house grounds. No electricity, no data. Cheating or sleeping through the night will immediately result in a person losing. Also, let’s spice things up a bit. Anyone who loses can make others lose as well. Among the ten of you, there is one who knows what’s going on — an imposter of sorts. Will you find who fakes this out? Finding it out might make you win earlier than sunrise, but a wrong answer will result in another loss. Good luck.” The speakers shut, and so did all their phones — batteries fried up.
  20. Guest

    (Un)identical twins (3)

    Sorry for the very long wait. Enjoy the final part of this story. Time seemed frozen in Jason’s room as the two heavily muscled brothers lived the moment they had been anticipating for several months. For neither it had gone as they had foreseen it. Jason had found deeper and more satisfying pleasure in dominating his grown brother than he’d ever imagined. Sure, he had enjoyed being worshipped before, during or after one of his workouts by Sam or the stares from the other guys in the shower. But his brother was now way bigger than any of the guys that had rubbed their hands allover his muscles before sucking him off or getting his cock up their ass. Brett, on the other hand, had his hopes of reclaiming his dominant spot in the family shattered the moment he laid eyes on his brother’s naked torso. The second his brother had revealed his new frame, Brett had instinctively accepted the beastly man’s alphaness. Every primal instinct in his body had automatically chased every opposition to the superior being from him. His mind had been flooded by thoughts and speculations of the insane power that the bulging, insanely large and totally shredded muscles had to possess. For some reason, the awe and fear had soon been mixed with and dominated by a strange feeling of attraction. Unknown and new feelings had whirled through his mind: he had never before been attracted to another man, not even to his bigger and 261 pounds of muscles teammate Mike. He had, off course, checked his teammates’ physiques in the gym or in the shower and complimented some on their results. And received praise in return, certainly since he’d been juicing. That had been nothing more than the usual locker room atmosphere of athletes showing respect for their efforts to build up their physique. Without any sexual afterthought attached to it. The two muscular brothers were however bound by one mutual feeling: both of them were experiencing the most powerful orgasm in their life. Brett’s mind was whirling with feelings of ecstasy as pain and pleasure traveled along his spine to explode inside his brain in a fireworks of bursts of energy. His brother’s body sent urges of need through his own body; urges even his hottest girlfriend had never made him feel. Somehow, he even enjoyed the feeling of having his 241 pound, heavily muscled body feel small next to his 327 pound, beastly brother; feeling weak in the huge man’s powerful grasp. He felt like a ragdoll against the beastly body, but somehow he also felt safe in his brother’s grasp. His mind was at peace with his position as a beta, knowing it was no use to defy the muscle beast his brother had become. His mouth hung open in a silent cry. His hand was still vigorously stroking his rock-hard 8 incher that was now leaking the remains of watery loads from his drained and aching balls. Jason was also flooded with feelings of pure bliss. His mighty orgasm felt like lightning exploding in every cell of his beastly body. The realization of eclipsing, totally dominating and reducing to an obedient beta his heavily muscled, 241 pound brother gave him more satisfaction than the process of his own growth over the past months. Sure, he had jerked off to his own, ever swelling reflection as he had posed in front of the mirror in his room. Sure, he had creamed himself feeling and exploring his ever hardening muscles. But none of these feelings compared in the least to the feeling of total and undisputed control over another athlete that dwarfed most of the guys in the gym. “YEAUGHN”, Jason roared deeply as the second wave of his all-consuming orgasm rolled over him. He pulled back his cock slightly and rammed it deep and forcefully inside his brother. ‘Oughpff”, Brett peeped. He stared at his own face in the mirror and his eyes widened as his pecs were shoved against the cum-splattered mirror and he felt his feet being lifted off the ground: he was now completely impaled in his brother’s 14 inch cock. His hand raced back and forth along his shaft, but his completely drained balls refused to spill another drop of cum. The pressure inside him intensified some more as his six-pack bloated further from the never ending blasts of hot liquid the fleshy snake kept spewing inside him. “FUCK YEAUGHN”, Jason rumbled as he felt his orgasm subside slowly. He reopened his eyes, that had been closed since his orgasm began and stared into the mirror: one third of it was covered in his brother’s spunk. He looked further down and saw the drained look on his brother’s face. Even further down, he noticed his brother’s hand still mechanically stroking his own deflating cock. He also regained control of his senses and felt the heat that had built up in the room and was hit by the strong sent of musk and sex that hung heavily in the air and filled his room. He inhaled deeply to calm his breathing and let his heartbeat slowdown. His uber-athletic body recovered within half a minute. He pumped his cock a final time inside his brother’s ass and withdrew it. His still fully hard 14 incher smacked into the brick-sized abs of his eight-pack, smearing a rope of sticky cum against the corrugated surface in the process. Brett whimpered as the fleshy snake was pulled away from his worn out ass. He shivered and felt strangely empty after having being impaled on the thick shaft. He felt the thick, hot liquid stream from his ass and slide along the back of his muscular legs. His knees buckled from exhaustion but his brother’s big paws maintained their firm grip on his hips and held him upright. Jason brought is mouth to his brother’s ear. “I’m so glad yar home, little bro. Can’t think of a better and more fun way to wake up. I even think ya enjoyed this more than me. Didn’t ya, little bro?”, he said. Brett heard a muttered “yes” escape his mouth and nodded in response. “I knew it, little bro”, Jason went on, “ya’re still stroking yar cock.” The remark made Brett look down and indeed, his hand was still stroking his now soft cock. “I…”, he began. “No need to explain, little bro”, Jason stated, “ya’re not the first to jerk off to my body. And ya won’t be the least. Clean up yar mess and get ready while I grab some breakfast.” He released his brother’s hips, pulled on a pair of boxers and strutted to the door. “Get… ready…? For what?”, Brett asked while he placed his hands against the mirror to support his worn out body. “For our workout, off course”, Jason replied, “It’s arm day, little bro. I want to see yar bigger arms in action. And don’t ya want to see my canons pump some iron?” He raised his right arm in a flex, letting his 28.5 inch arm explode into a hard, round orb. A jolt shot through Brett’s cock at the sight of his brother’s flexed arm. Anticipation filled his mind. “Clean yar mess from my mirror and put on yar workout gear, little bro”, Jason rumbled and left his brother to get some breakfast. Half an hour later, Jason and Brett arrived at the gym. Jason looking fresh and energized, Brett still feeling some fatigue after the events in his brother’s room. Jason entered the gym first, strutting over to the desk. “Yo, big guy”, Sam greeted the biggest member of the gym. “I see you brought your brother”, he added as he noticed Brett. “Geez, you look way bigger than last time too. Must be fun having top genes to build muscle”, he said as he eyed Brett’s frame. A faint grin formed on Brett’s faced at the remark. He’d always enjoyed getting complimented on his physique. It made him feel a bit like the alpha he once was. “If ya ladies are done flirting, I would like to train”, Jason stated dryly and strutted past the desk into the locker room. Jason’s remark shattered the small hint of self-esteem that had formed in Brett’s mind. Brett followed his brother. Both of them pulled off their hoodies. Only then, Brett saw both of them were wearing the exact same outfit: grey sweatpants and a black tank top. His own highlighted his heavily muscled torso while his brother’s seemed painted on his torso: Jason’s wide and heavy pecs spilled from the sides and striations were visible through the overstretched fabric across the slabs of beef on his chest; even the bricks and grooves of his eight-pack were clearly accentuated and rippled with every deep breath. “Let’s go, little bro”, Jason rumbled and exited the locker room. Brett found himself once more walking behind his beastly brother. He looked up at the wide, magnificent back covered with bulging mounds of muscle pushing into each other and capped with thick, meaty traps that supported his brother’s bullneck. His gaze travelled down along the insanely broad back to halt on the meaty ass that filled the sweatpants. Jason entered the weight area and looked around. One lonely, nicely build guy was pumping out reps on a bench. As he sat up, he looked up in Jason’s direction and nodded. Jason returned the salute and recognized the 228 pound, heavyweight wrestler he’d worked out with a few months earlier when he was about the guy’s size. His cock twitched inside his pants thinking of the guy’s hot mouth that had serviced him several times ever since he had totally outgrown him. One time he had even walked in on him and Sam making out in the locker room. Wordlessly, he had simply pulled the guys apart, dropped his pants and forced Sam to watch as he had fucked the wrestler right there. Afterward, he had tossed the guy aside and made Sam suck his still hard dick. Ever since, he had more frequently used the two lovers to satisfy his ever-present needs. “Tell me if ya need a spot, Keith”, he said as he strutted past the bench toward the rack of free weights. “Right, little bro. Let’s warm up first”, he rumbled and grabbed a pair of dumbbells. Brett stared at his massive brother, cranking out perfect and fast reps with a weight he knew he would struggle with. He followed suit with a pair of much, much lighter dumbbells. “I used those feathers too. Months ago”, Jason said without taking his eyes from the mirror. After 100 reps, he racked the weights and grabbed the heaviest dumbbells on the rack. “Let’s do this!”, he gnarled at his reflection. Brett racked his weights too and grabbed the dumbbells his brother had warmed up with. After two reps, he felt his arms starting to shake. After six reps, his biceps felt like they were on fire and he dropped the weights. “Weakling”, Jason muttered and cranked out another perfect rep. He felt his monster arms pumping up as blood flowed into his beastly biceps. After 12 perfect reps, he gently racked the weight. 30 seconds later, he grabbed the dumbbells again. “Second set, little bro. Come on!”, he commanded. Brett grabbed a lighter pair of dumbbells than the ones he had just used. On the first rep, his arms shook terribly. He got three reps before his grip faltered and the weights went down. Jason on the other hand cranked out another 11 perfect reps. “Rack yar weights while I continue”, he barked at his brother. Brett obeyed his beastly brother’s instruction and sat down on a nearby bench while he watched Jason perform two more sets of bicep curls. Every rep made the veins on his brother’s bicep swell as they feed blood into the orb of muscle. “Time for some hammer curls”, Jason said as he racked the dumbbells and strutted over to the cable station. He selected the heaviest load and casually cranked out 15 fully controlled reps. Brett selected 70% of his brother’s load and struggled to complete 6 sloppy reps. He moved aside, his face reed and breathing deeply. Jason changed the weight and did another perfect series of 15 reps. He looked over at his brother but Brett nodded ‘no’ to make clear he would skip. “Sam, get over here”, Jason bellowed. Instantly, the 185 pound guy popped up. “Get on the weight stack. Ya know it’s too light for me”, Jason said. Brett stared in disbelief as the guy placed his feet atop the weight stack and his brother pumped out 10 more perfect reps. He blinked as he saw the beastly arms pump up bigger and bigger with every rep. “I know, big guy. I asked the boss the buy heavier stacks, but you’re the only one that complains”, Sam said as he was going up and down on the rhythm of Jason’s reps. “I know ya do everything to keep me happy, Sam”, Jason growled and completed his fourth set of hammer curls. “Fuck. My biceps feel like they’re gonna bust through my skin”, he added as he dropped the rope. His left paw grabbed his right bicep as he curled his arm, making the orb of muscle swell inside his grip. “Right. Some preacher curls to wrap things up”, he said and strutted over to the preacher bench. Brett, Sam and even Keith followed the beastly Jason and formed a semicircle around the bench. Jason looked up and grinned at the three guys standing in front of him. All three of them clearly worked out: looking athletic like Sam over heavily build like Keith to thickly muscled like his brother Brett. He returned his focus on his final exercise. He grabbed the loaded bar and began curling it up and down with perfect control. Brett stared as the mountains of muscle that were his brother’s biceps swelled into round, vein-choked orbs of hard meat with each curl. He felt his cock harden inside his sweatpants. Sam and Keith had similar reactions down their pants, but were less shy. They moved over to the bench and each of them groped one of Jason’s massive biceps. Their fingers didn’t budge the hot, stony-hard muscle as their hands were too small to span the girth of the orbs. “FUARK, yeah”, Jason roared as he lowered the bar for the tenth time in his fourth sets. He stood up and threw a devastating double bicep pose. His pumped biceps, swollen with blood from the workout, jumped past the 30 inch mark as they hardened into impossibly large and perfectly round mountains crisscrossed with dark veins that outsized cannonballs. “Man, this pump’s unreal”, he added and hardened his flex some more. Around him, the three other guys were stroking their cocks through their pants. “Time for a quick shower”, Jason said and strutted past his admirers. Ten minutes later, Jason emerged from the locker room after his shower and having Keith suck him off. “Round of shakes, guys?”, he asked as he sat down at the bar next to his brother, “Brett’s buying to celebrate his return home for the summer. Aren’t ya, little bro?”. Brett nodded, not wanting to stand up to his massive brother. His pumped arms made him look even more intimidating. Back at home, Brett headed for his room but his brother’s paw grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. “Not so fast, little bro. We need to talk”, Jason said and guided his smaller brother into his own room. “Drop yar pants”, he ordered as he locked the door. “What…euh?”, Brett asked. “DROP ‘EM”, Jason bellowed deeply. Brett instinctively obeyed the command and swiftly dropped his pants. He shivered as his mind processed several scenarios, but always seemed to return to what had happened earlier that morning. He blinked as he felt a stinging sensation in the left cheek of his ass. “What…”, he began but words froze in his throat as he felt the same sensation in the right cheek of his ass. “There ya go. Ya can pull ‘em back up, little bro”, Jason said. Brett quickly pulled up his pants, happy to get off the hook without being fucked once more. He turned around to face his brother and saw him throw an empty syringe on his desk. “What did you just do?”, he asked. “Ya truly are a dumb fuck, little bro. What do ya think I did? I injected ya with a double dose of roids”, Jason replied, “I want to break the 400 pound mark before the curse runs out. It stated that at the 10th full moon the circle would be round. That gives me another three weeks to put on 80 pounds of muscle. Means I’ll have to roid yar ass to make ya put on around 40 pounds of muscle since the curse is wearing down and my growth based on yours is slowing down. Fortunately, Keith has good connections.” Brett blinked. “You’re going to make me bigger?”, he asked in disbelief. “Geez, little bro”, Jason spat back, “YES! But only to make me bigger. I’m not gonna risk my health by pumping roids into my body. But ya already did, so why not take it to the next level? Ya can thank me later for making ya bigger, little bro. The following weeks I’m gonna roid ya up with double doses. Every morning right after I’ll fuck yar ass and before we go to the gym.” The next three weeks did indeed pass as Jason had told his brother: every morning Jason would pull his 242 pound brother into his room after his parents had left for work, plunge a double dose of roids in to him and then fuck his ass before they headed over to the gym and he put him through a grueling workout. 21 days later, Brett came home to an empty house: his parents had left that morning for their yearly vacation and wouldn’t be home for another month; his brother had left for the gym 10 minutes earlier. Brett had spent the night over at an old buddy from his football team in high school to avoid the daily ass-fuck by his now freakishly big brother. He had waited in his car a few houses down the street from his own until his brother had driven off. He parked his car in the deserted driveway and quickly disappeared inside the house. He knew he had until half the afternoon before his brother would return from the gym after his training, action with Sam and Keith in the locker room and having the two guys buy him dinner. He went upstairs to his room, tossed his phone and sweater on the bed before heading over to his brother’s room. He stopped before the shut door of his brother’s room. In his mind the possibility to go search for answers grew stronger fought with the voice warning him for serious danger if his brother would catch him inside his room. On the other hand, it could well be his only chance to break the curse before it would be complete that night. His hand shook as he reached for the doorknob. His mouth went dry as he turned the nob and the door opened gently. He quickly entered his brother’s room, getting hit by the manly scent of musk, sweat and cum that hung heavily in the air and closed the door behind him. His gaze scanned the room, stopping briefly at the ropes of cum still sliding down slowly on the mirror toward the puddle formed on the carpet at its base. He turned his attention to the fully stacked book closet and began searching the shelves. 10 minutes later, Brett went through the top shelf and felt frustration well up inside him as he hadn’t found anything. A part of him knew it had been too good to be true. He turned away from the book closet and stepped over to the adjacent desk. He pulled out the drawer on the left, but found nothing. His hand reached for the other drawer and puled. The handle resisted. “Why would you keep this drawer locked, bro?”, he said to himself and pulled with all his might. The lock succumbed quickly to his new strength and the drawer opened with the sound of shattering wood. “Bingo”, he said with a grin as he saw the old book. He grabbed it, shut the drawer again and began going through the book. He didn’t understand a word of the ancient text in Latin. Luckily for him, his brother had noted the translation of most passages in pencil next to the text. Feed on power… Transfer… fluids = cum… use on Brett… The last remark made anger well up inside Brett. “So, this is the curse he used on me”, he growled and read on to find a solution. The dust inside the book flew up as he went through it and he sneezed. He pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose to clear out the dust before putting it back inside his pocket and continuing his discovery of the book. Curse complete… 10th full moon… Lasting results… Grow huge on Brett’s efforts??? Brett blinked as he read the remark. He shook his head at the proof that his nerdy brother had grown huge at his dispense. He went on and a annotation by his brother on a page a little further caught his attention. Restore… Healing curse… Take back ill-earned gains… Definitive… Brett’s mind, way slower than his brother’s, put the pieces together and a smirk formed on his face. “That’s it!”, he said to himself. He quickly read through the translation his brother had made. “I need some of his body fluids… fluids”, he said to himself when the solution popped up in his mind. He returned a few pages and his finger tapped on a comment: fluids = cum. He turned around and looked at the cum-drenched mirror. “Luckily I wasn’t here this morning and he blew his load to his reflection”, he said. He stepped over to the mirror, pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped a nice amount of the sticky cum from the mirror. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Brett nearly dropped the book and his handkerchief. He waited a few seconds, but the bell rang again. He quickly put his handkerchief inside the book and went over to his own room. As he entered, his phone rang. “Hello?”, he asked. “Dude, it’s me, Mike. I’m at your house. Are you in?” “At my house?”, Brett repeated. “Yeah. I was around to visit my cousin Keith. Stayed at his place tonight but he’s off to the gym now. So, are you at home?”, Mike said. “Sure”, Bret replied, “come round the back. Backdoor’s open. I’m in my room. Second door on the left at the top of the stairs.” “See ya in a sec”, Mike said and ended the call. At the gym, Sam and Keith were in the locker room waiting for Jason to arrive. The now huge man had texted them to come over and not keep him waiting. They gasped sharply as Jason entered. Jason ducked and rotated his torso to come sideways through the door. He was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that now served him as boxers: no regular pair of boxers would fit around his quads anymore. His new body was a breathtaking sight: he could no longer be called huge or beastly, he had evolved into a massive mountain of muscle. Despite the fading power of the curse he had managed to gain another whopping 85 pounds of muscle and had grown 7 extra inches taller: he now stood an towering 7’5 feet tall for a hulking 412 pounds of ripped and striated muscle. The extra height made his insanely, hulkingly muscled body maintain its aestheticly perfect proportions. His calves jutted backward like thick diamonds at the back of his legs; his quads made his kneecaps look comically small and dwarfed the tree in their backyard by the massive size of the wide, deeply grooved, corded muscles that stretched the shorts to the max; his eight-pack was a collection of cobblestone-sized blocks of muscle, separated by canyons and decorated down the center with a dark treasure trail that disappeared down his shorts; the top half of the eight-pack was obscured by the shadow of his monumental pecs; they were an insanely thick, protruding rack of heavy muscle that proudly defied the pull of gravity; each pecs had the size of a watermelon shoved underneath the paper-thin skin; the surface of the extremely wide slabs of concrete-hard beef was crossed with striations and small veins; the pecs protruded so far from his chest that his nipples pointed straight down to the floor and were not visible from the front; the massive mounds rippled with every breath he took; a thick vein snaked at the top of the pecs like a small river and ran further onto his shoulders where it branched off in several smaller veins; the hard line of his shoulders was twice as large than a doorframe and capped with delts the size of basketballs; each separate head of the muscle was visible through the stretched skin pulled tight around the orbs of meat; the wide line was capped with a pair of intimidatingly thick traps that supported his bull-sized neck; his heavily muscled shoulders formed the support of his amazing arms hanging relaxed at his sides; his arms had amassed another 8 inches and now measured 36.5 inches flexed; when flexed his biceps exploded into spheres of rock-hard muscle that dwarfed bowling balls and were choked in a network of crisscrossed veins that fed the mighty muscles; his triceps then hung like vicious horseshoes at the bottom of his arms; they had more mass on their own than most guys entire upper arm; now his arms hung relaxed at his sides, looking like hams ready to burst through the satin-like, paper-thin skin; his forearms were covered with thick cords that ran along their entire length and were thicker than most men’s legs; inside his shorts his now dormant cock had grown to accommodate to his new body: fully hard it stretched to an insanely long 18 inches and its girth outsized most guys’ forearms; even flaccid its size prevented him from wearing boxers. Sam and Keith gulped as Jason swaggered over towards them and seemed to swell with every step he took. A simultaneous jolt shot through their cocks. “Ready for some action, runts?”, Jason rumbled in a voice that filled the room like thunder as he stopped a few feet from the two athletes and stared down on them. Sam and Keith gawked at the protruding rack of heavy muscle, crossed with striations that was at their eyelevel. Even though they saw Jason shirtless and naked every day, they simply couldn’t fathom the unreal size he had grown into. The shadow cast by Jason’s monstrous body put them completely in the dark and the guy was wider than both of them standing next to each other. They looked straight at the insanely deep canyon between the two slabs of pecs. It looked deep enough to conceal an entire hand. Striations rippled against the paper-thin skin as the globes of pecs rose on the rhythm of the muscle freak’s breathing. “My dumbass brother wasn’t home this morning. Couldn’t fill his ass with my cum. I’m so fucking horny right now”, Jason stated, “Ever since my brother made me huge it feels like there’s pure testosterone coursing through my veins. Fuark.” He looked at his reflection in the large mirror and bounced his chest in an insane display of striations and veins. Keith’s gaze was drawn downwards by a stirring motion. He blinked in disbelief as he saw Jason’s package beginning to form a larger and larger bulge at the front of his shorts. Within seconds the purple head peeped outside as it pushed the waistband away from the giant’s tight waist. “Got over here, wimp”, Jason growled at Keith. Back at home, Brett put the book inside his desk as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The sound of the opening door made him turn around to face his former team captain. “Mike”, he said with a grin and looked at the athlete standing in the doorway. “You look a bit smaller than I remember”, he added. “Had an injury. Couldn’t train the last two months”, Mike replied without taking his eyes from his former teammate. “Down to around 238 right now”, he added. “What the fuck have you done to yourself?”, he asked while he scanned how Brett’s heavy torso stretched his shirt to the max. “I’ve grown a bit”, Brett replied matter-of-factly. He still had to look up at the half-a-foot taller athlete, but there was no doubt about who was the bigger man. Brett pulled off his shirt and heard Mike gasped at the sight of his bare upper body. Brett was now heavier than he had ever been. He had put on another 42 pounds in just 3 weeks from the massive doses of roids his brother had injected into his ass. He was now weighing an intimidating 284 pounds. Every muscle on his body was unmistakably fuller and larger: his delts had grown into perfectly rounded cannonballs that capped the broad line formed by his wide shoulders; the width of his shoulder girdle made the sides of his prominent delts brush the doorframe as he went through it; his arms had put on another 3.5 inches, making them an impressive 24.5 inches fully flexed; his pecs had amassed more beef and now protruded further from his chest; even his quads were bigger and more muscular. Overall, he looked intimidatingly muscled after his forced cycle. Despite his superior size, it was clear he had been roiding heavily: his head somehow looked a bit too small for his new size; his skin had an oily shine and looked greasy; his back was marred with severe acne; his six-pack was a protruding, bloated muscle-gut and his nipples were swollen. To top things off, his balls seemed a bit smaller and ached when he blew his load. “How big…”, Mike asked while scanning the heavily muscled body in front of him. “284 fucking pounds”, Brett interrupted him. He bounced his pecs to emphasize his weight. It had been a long time since he had felt the superior man inside this house. He raised his right arm and flexed it. His bicep exploded into a vein-choked, round orb of hard muscle as his arm reached it’s 24.5 inches. Mike blinked at the incredible sight. “Like what you see, pretty boy?”, Brett asked and raised his other arm to complete his double bicep pose. It took Mike’s mind a few seconds to process to huge guy’s remark as he was still taking in the sight of the devastating double bicep pose. “Cat got your tongue, pretty boy? This is what a real man looks like”, Brett stated coldly and threw a most muscular. Mike instinctively took a step backwards as he thickly muscled torso exploded in a display of hard muscle. He knew he couldn’t let Brett feel any of his doubt. He still had his height advantage and stretched himself to gaze down on the shorter man. “You’re big. But that’s just over-roided muscle full of water. Feel some real strength, freak”, Mike growled and launched himself at his former teammate. In a blink his fist collided with the bloated muscle-gut. Brett let out a muttered sound of surprise as he felt the fist hit his abs. He barely felt the punches the other athlete launched against his abs. He pulled back his own fist, making his right bicep harden into its 24.5 inches in the process, and threw it against the star quarterback’s tight six-pack. “Buough”, Mike groaned as the fist collided with his abs and he felt them give in slightly under the violent punch. He didn’t have any time to react as a second punch hit him just as hard in the same spot and brook through his defenses. He folded double from the impact and a third blow made him collapse to the floor. Brett felt his cock harden inside his pants as he looked down on the beaten jock: he had just taken down the once dominant man on campus with just three blows. Mike tried catching his breath, his abs sending painful stabs through his body with every breath he took. A hand grabbed his neck and he felt himself being lifted up. His legs fell rubbery and the tight grab on his neck kept him upright as he was forced to look straight into Brett’s eyes. “I have 45 pounds of mass on you”, Brett said, “And still you’re so dumb to take me on?”. As Brett spoke, Mike summoned his strength and threw another punch at the huge man’s face. Brett easily fended off the weak punch and then launched another blow into the six-pack that felt like jelly as his fist busted through it. “Buoughnf”, Mike grunted as the sledgehammer-like fist sank deep into his stomach. Brett’s mind was filled with the feeling of finally dominating another man physically. And then, like a dam breaking under pressure, the months of frustration of being the beta next to his freakish brother flooded his mind. His fist began pounding into the battered stomach of the star quarterback. Mike could only let out incoherent, painfilled sounds as his body took the beating. He didn’t even have any strength left to try and put up a defense: his muscular arms dangled at his sides. Brett felt all-powerful as he kept slamming his fist into the once dominant athlete on his team. His dick was fully hard, forming a prominent bulge inside his sweatpants. He smacked his fist into the 238 pound man’s face, bruising his eye and then splitting the man’s lip. He felt some blood drip onto his fist and inhaled heavily as he felt the testosterone and adrenaline rush through him. He kept grabbing the star quarterback’s neck with his left paw while his right paw yanked down his own sweatpants and boxers to reveal his rock-hard 8 incher that smacked hard into his bloated roid-gut. Mike saw the meaty cock through his swollen eye. He knew what was going to happen, but was powerless to resist. Brett shoved his cock inside the fallen quarterback’s mouth, easily forcing the battered man in place and returned his attention to the book. “Let’s get this over with first. I’ll deal with you later”, he said and pulled his handkerchief from his pants. He opened the book on the right passage and read it out loud: “Let the body of he who’s fluids shall cover this page surrender to this curse. Let it discard its ill-earned mass and return to the way it was!”. He quickly grabbed the hanky and rub it along the page, smearing the liquid onto the book. In the gym, Jason’s vision went dark for just a split second. He felt a strange wave of weakness go through his body and he stumbled backwards, his wide back colliding against the tilled wall. He raised his right paw to his head, making his insanely large bicep ball up in the process, and closed his eyes. At the same time, his cock sprang to full hardness and ripped away the shorts. The 18 inch anaconda pointed straight at Keith. Keith took two steps and kneeled before the 412 pound muscle god. He took the thick head and the top of the large shaft inside his mouth. Instantly, Jason began to cum uncontrollably. Keith gulped down one huge blast after the other, feeling the liquid heat slide into his stomach. Somehow the heat seemed to spread inside him. “He’s… he’s shrinking”, Sam said in disbelief as he saw Jason’s muscles get flatter. Keith’s mind processed the remark while he gulped down a fifth blast. He looked up and noticed that the shadow cast by the still impressive, yet clearly smaller rack of pecs didn’t obscure most of the diminishing eight-pack anymore. The quads beneath his hands also felt less hard. His stomach was starting to feel bloated as another shot of cum was blasted down his throat. The cock he was sucking didn’t stretch his mouth as much anymore and felt less deep inside his throat. Jason still had his eyes closed as the powerful orgasm flooded his body. Sam blinked as the giant was now clearly getting smaller: it seemed like Jason’s muscles were melting away from his body. A tearing sound tore his gaze from the hulking muscle-freak to the wrestler sucking him off. “Dude. You’re getting bigger”, he muttered as he saw Keith’s muscles rip through his tight shirt. Keith’s mind processed Sam’s remark. He sucked down harder on the diminishing cock that kept spewing load after load of cum into him. A feeling like a good pump now filled every muscle on his body. He felt pain spread through his body as his muscles began reaching their limit. He began feeling sick as his overbloated stomach protested against more forced feeding. He motioned Sam to come over. Sam immediately got the wrestler’s hint and moved in. The growing wrestler released the still impressive, yet way smaller cock. A blast hit Sam straight in the face as he kneeled down in front of the over a 100 pounds lighter muscle freak. He immediately placed his mouth over the spewing cock and felt the heat spread through his body. The slowly swelling Keith lay down atop the bench in the locker room as he felt his muscle grow and harden further. He felt his clothes get tighter and tighter. Sam grabbed hold with all his might of the deflating quads and sucked the shrinking cock relentlessly. He felt the heat fill his body as if he was getting a solid pump from a long workout. Back at home, a similar darkness overtook Brett’s vision and the next moment his cock began cumming deep inside the quarterback’s throat. Mike gulped down the sticky spunk and felt the heat spread through his body. It was as if his muscles were regaining their lost strength. Brett groaned in pleasure as the sucking on his dick got harder. Unlike Keith, Sam didn’t grow slowly: his body exploded in size as he drank down the energizing cum. His clothes exploded into shreds as his muscles ballooned upward and outward with more mass. He looked up and the once freakishly large Jason was now looking below average. Jason felt his orgasm ware off and sank down along the wall in darkness. “Fuck yeah!”, Sam roared as he saw his new physique in the mirror. He had grown from a 185 well-muscled jock into a 335 pound, superheavyweight bodybuilder. Every muscle on his body looked ripped and pumped. His grown cock throbbed and slapped against the center of his eight-pack. “Looking good, man.” Sam turned around and saw Keith walking toward him: the guy looked like his exact copy. “Man, we’re the same size”, he said excitedly and flexed and impressive arm that bulged into a hard orb of power. Keith copied his pose grinningly, revealing an equally impressive bicep. “Fuck me”, Keith whispered as he leaned in and kissed his lover deeply. A faint grunt made Sam look aside and turn his attention to the shrunken Jason. Jason blinked as his mind tried to figure out what had happened. The large room looked strangely familiar. Before he could get up, a Greek god hoisted him up. He felt his feet leave the floor as he stared at the heavily-muscled body in front of him. Sam grinned at the runt in his grasp. The months of abuse he and Keith had had to take from the once beastly Jason popped up in his mind. “Get lost and never bother us again. If you ever set foot back in this gym, I’ll break every bone in your body. Got it, runt?”, he boomed aggressively. Jason nodded in defeat. He knew he was no match for this muscle beast. “I’ve got nothing to wear”, he peeped in his boyish voice. Sam dropped the frail runt, strutted over to a locker and ripped off the door. “There, some kid-sized clothes”, he said and tossed them onto the emaciated figure. Jason got dressed quickly and headed over to the door. He turned around a final time to see the two 335 pound, muscle beasts in action: Keith was lying atop the large bench in the center of the locker room and Sam was fucking him relentlessly while they kept kissing and groping each other’s muscles. Jason hurried over to his car to get home. Back at home, Mike gulped down the last blast from Brett’s cock. He felt the energy soaring through his grown body. Somehow, he had gained 72 pounds of muscle. Brett felt somewhat dizzy as he shoved the quarterback from his cock. A look of terror filled his eyes as the other athlete rose to his full height and he assessed the guy’s new size. “How…”, he muttered in choc. “Don’t know. And don’t care”, Mike boomed in response. “Oh and I owe ya this”, he added and smacked his fist into the 100 pound lighter guy’s abs. Brett crashed backwards to the floor as the 310 pound quarterback’s fist smacked into his six-pack and busted right through it. “See ya around, little guy. Can’t wait to see what this body can do in the gym”, Mike rumbled and strutted away from the room. 10 minutes later, Jason arrived home and stormed into his room. He went through his desk frantically to get the book and see what had gone wrong. He froze when a strong hand landed atop his bony shoulder. “A word, little bro?”. Jason shivered as he recognized his brother’s voice and turned around slowly. He gulped as he stood before the 212 pound, muscular jock. His own meager, 155 pound body was obscured by his brother’s frame. “Guess you’re only technically the bigger brother again”, Brett said as he grinned down smugly into his weak brother’s eyes, “Time for some payback, LITTLE BRO”. Jason saw his brother smacked his right fist into his left paw and shuddered, realizing that the bill for his months of dominating his brother was going to be heavy…
  21. Ultrabeef

    Story - Natural Nathan

    Natural Nathan By Ultrabeef “So I just need to call out another one of these pussy-boy fraudsters. First it was Lukas Daren, the drugged up German fitness model who is taking the internet by storm. Then it was Kendal Kenyon and his “Natural Workout System” when this fool is as far from natural as possible. And now this moron! This dude Zack Vasco posts on his Instagram how ‘hard work and eating right got him the bod he has’ and how he is ‘totally natural’. Yeah right! Natural my ass! Have you seen this over muscled freak show?! I’m so sick of these obvious steroid users pretending that they are natty! And these pussyboy fraudsters all live and train clients right in this city! If you see these douchebags on the street, give ‘em hell! And god forbid if you are a client of theirs, demand your money back! You will never look like them unless you get in touch with their drug dealer roid supplier. Tell them ‘nice try fraudster! You’re not even close to natural!” Ok, guys & gals, that’s all the time I have for today. If you are interested in my authentic Natural training plan, click the link below. And I will continue to call out the bs crap these simpletons spout online. This is Nathan Lindy, and you’re watching “Natural Nathan” make sure to like and subscribe so you won’t miss any great content. Nathan Lindy hit stop on his webcam and sighed. He really enjoyed calling out these fitness dudes on his YouTube channel. Nathan was studying Exercise Science at the local university and had been a personal trainer at Planet Fitness for two years. He knew how hard it was to build muscle as well as the limitations of natural training. It just pissed him off that these big muscle dudes would continue to post online about how natural they are or how training hard and eating right got them the ripped physiques they possessed. Nathan knew it was all just bullshit and he made it his business to expose these ‘fraudsters’ as he called them. His almost 500,000 subscribers ate it up too. They loved him owning these fitness dudes online. Nathan was a nerdy looking guy himself, despite his major and job, he was an average college hipster. His clear framed glasses and longish curly brown hair definitely signaled that he was a college dude (as did the messy apartment seen behind him in his videos). He wasn’t fat but he wasn’t thin either. He did have some decent muscle tone but his abs were hidden by a bit of a beer gut from too many pizza slices and cold ones after training clients at the gym. What Nathan couldn’t have known is that at this very moment, on the other side of town, a group of these so-called “fitness fraudsters” was getting fed up with his online shenanigans and was about to start plotting their revenge. “Fuck this asshole!” Zack snarled as he clicked stop on the newly posted “Natural Nathan” YouTube video calling him out as a fraud. The jacked Latin bodybuilder threw his iphone into his duffle bag and stormed out of the gym locker room. The fact that Nathan was right, Zack Vasco WAS on gear, was beside the point. Who did this nobody think he was? Calling ripped Zack Vasco, the obvious choice for 1st place at this year’s Men’s Physique Competition, a pussyboy and a fraudster. This Nathan Lindy jerk didn’t know who he was messing with. Then he heard a ping from his gym bag. Fishing out the phone Zack saw he had a new text from fellow bodybuilder (and Nathan Lindy target) Kendal Kenyon. Kendal was a huge black bodybuilder who had just won his pro card at the Jr. Nationals. “Hey Zack. I saw Nathan’s post. I have a plan to deal with this dick once and for all. Meet up at my place at 7pm?” Zack texted back “Sounds good”. And headed to his Mustang convertible in the gym parking lot. At 7pm Zack pulled up in front of Kendal’s apartment building and jogged up to the door. Before he could knock, Kendal pulled the door opened and smiled “Hey bro! Looking huge dude! Come on in”. Zack took in the sight of Kendal, he was simply massive wearing only basketball shorts that did little to hide his massive bulge. Zack was a big guy himself but Kendal definitely dwarfed him. “Do you know Lukas?” Kendal motioned to another huge bodybuilder who was sitting on the sofa. “Um, no. We’ve never met but I know of him” Zack reached out his hand to the big blond on the sofa “Hey bro! I’m a huge fan!”. The big blond grinned and shook Zack’s hand “Thanks man! You coming along nice” his thick German accent rumbled as he squeezed Zack’s bicep. Zack blushed for a second, praise coming from Lukas Daren, the current IFBB Mens’ Physique pro was enough to keep him motivated for the rest of the year. Kendal cleared his throat and started the hastily called “meeting”. “As you well know, this little fucker Nathan Lindy has been making a lot of money off of trashing the reputations of the three of us.” Zack and Lukas nodded in agreement. Kendal continued “well, I think it’s time this asshole gets a taste of his own medicine”. “What you have in mind?” Lukas asked punching his palm with his fist, “we kick his ass?”. “No, no nothing like that” Kendal laughed, “we show him what it feels like to be us”. Zack and Lukas looked confused. Zack swallowed hard and then offered “But he is right, we aren’t natural. But we can’t SAY that publicly or we’d lose all our sponsorships and clients” “Oh absolutely” Kendal grinned flexing his ebony bicep. “But, if we make him like us, he won’t be able to mock us?” Lukas reasoned. “Exactly!” Kendal grinned. “Now, here’s the plan…” Nathan was straightening up his dingy apartment since he was expecting a visitor at any moment. He had already gotten in his workout and trained his clients at Planet Fitness, after finishing his university classes for the day. After a quick shower, Nathan had changed into a white polo that hugged his fairly fit torso, maybe hugged his small gut a little too much. The tan khakis and flip flops completed the look. Nathan ran his hand through his long curly hair, took one last look in the mirror, and sighed. Just then there was a knock on the apartment door and Nathan opened it, assuming it was the reporter from the student newspaper, whom he had been expecting, to write an expose on his meteoric success. Imagine his surprise when three hulking bodybuilders, the three whom he had openly mocked online, were standing at the door. “Wha…?” was all Nathan could get out before they rushed him, shoving him into the apartment. Like lightning, the three big men pulled Nathan's arms behind his back and tied them with a length of rope they had brought with them. “Let go of me! I’ll call the police!” Nathan screamed in terror. “Shut up bitch!” Lukas slapped Nathan across the face, “you’re in no position to call anyone”. Kendal maneuvered a gag into Nathan’s mouth “There, that’s better”. Tears started to stream down Nathan’s cheeks as he was totally at the mercy of these three huge muscle bros. “You think that you have the right to trash us online fag?” Lukas growled dangerously. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I have a reputation and clients to think about!” Zack grunted, getting more upset by the minute. “I think it’s time this little pussyboy gets a taste of his own medicine” Zack smirked dangerously as Kendal pulled a syringe filled with blue liquid out of his bag and quickly jabbed it into Nathan’s arm. Lukas pulled the gag out of Nathan’s mouth. “What the fuck?! What was that?!” Nathan felt light-headed as the drug flooded his system. “It’s time for you to be a little less natty bro!” Lukas purred. Nathan felt a tremendous pressure building in his chest and arms. As he looked down at his sweat soaked shirt, Nathan could feel his body changing as his pecs started to swell causing his chest to strain his polo and his beer gut receded into a cut 6 pack. “Oh fuck…” Nathan moaned as his voice lowered. “Let’s see what that shot did” Zack grinned as he jerked Nathan up off the sofa. Nathan flexed his big bicep and ran his hand over his cobblestone abs.. “Oh shit! What did you do to me?” Nathan moaned in a deeper baritone, “I look like one of you guys.” “What did you guys do to me?!” Nathan whimpered. “You mean what are we GOING to do to you?” Lukas grinned an evil smile as he pulled a glowing green vial from his gym bag. Zack and Kendal did the same. “As good as you look, you could still pass for natural like us” Kendal smirked. “Yeah, bro. We can’t have there be any doubt about how much of a roid-pig you are” Zack laughed. “No, guys! Please, I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t know how awesome it felt to be ripped. I won’t make fun of you ever again. In fact, I’ll make a full retraction on my show tomorrow.” “Oh, you’re gonna do that in any case, pig” Kendel growled dangerously. “But, you’re going to see what it really feels like to not be natural first!” Kendal jabbed a syringe with the glowing green serum into Nathan’s bicep and pushed down the plunger. Zack jabbed his syringe into Nathan’s ass emptying its contents. Lukas jabbed his syringe into Nathan’s pec and released the glowing liquid. “Oh fuck guys! What have you done?! I don’t feel so well…” Nathan moaned. As he grabbed his stomach in pain and rolled around on the floor moaning, the three studs quietly left Nathan’s apartment, their work was done. The next day there was a new post to “Natural Nathan”. Lukas, Zack, and Kendal eagerly gathered around Zack’s iPad in the gym locker room. The “Natural Nathan” logo swirled across the screen and a shadowy figure could barely be seen on the screen. The figure, who filled the screen with his broad shoulders, was wearing a hooded zip-up with the hood up over his head. The lighting was very dim and the room behind him looked to be in disarray. “Hey bros” a deep bass rumbled rather slowly and dumbly “This is Nathan...um Nate...and I uh, want to start today by saying ‘sorry’ to all the dudes I ever made fun of on my show. Especially Lukas Daren, Kendal Kenyon, and Zack Vasco. Those bros, are totally natural dudes. Trust me. But, um...I’ve got a confession. I’m not natural at all...anymore.” With that the figure of Nathan Lindy turned on the lights and Lukas, Zack, and Kendal (along with Nathan’s thousands of followers across the world let out a collective gasp). The room behind him was trashed, with smashed furniture and cum-soaked clothing strewn around. But there, filling the screen in front of the mess, was a massive bodybuilder who bore a slight resemblance to Nathan Lindy. His face was full and bloated with bad acne and the scruff of a beard. His long hair was thinning on the top of his head. A thick bull neck and shoulders supported his small looking head. As Nathan unzipped the hoodie that strained to contain his body, two massive pecs came into view. Nathan’s puffy nipples were hard and had obvious bitch tits from steroid abuse. His abs were a hard-distended roid gut that he could never hide, no matter how hard he tried to suck it in. Nathan stood up and adjusted his webcam to show his huge thighs and tiny dick sticking up proudly in his grey underwear. As he turned around acne covered his thick back and freakish arms. “So, dudes. What do ya think? I like it!” Nathan flexed his veiny arms and started rubbing his swollen nipple as a low moan escaped his lips and a clear wet stain started to appear on his underwear. “I’m changing the name of my show to “Not-so-Natural Nate” and I’m doing cam shows if you dudes are interested in worshiping this big, sick roid bod. Hit me up bros!” Nate smiled dumbly at the camera and then clicked it off. Immediately his follower numbers began to drop as Lukas, Zack, and Kendal smiled at each other.
  22. anonymous90

    The “Ex” Factor

    ((I kinda figured I’d break the recent stagnation, aside from the last story from a day or so ago by jkmuscle, by posting a little revised rp I did with a friend off the forums not too long ago. If you’re reading this, it means a lot more to me than you think, haha. Hope you guys enjoy) It’s been weeks since I’ve gotten laid, and I’m really excited for what my boyfriend has in store for me. Warlocks having love affairs with demons was common, but hardly lasted. Our affair had been on-again off-again for ages, and it showed. He’d been messaging me all day about a surpirse waiting for me at his place, and I was impossibly eager to see what he’d gotten me for this special occasion. The lights are dim, and the room is warm and humid. An otter-ish twink lay sprawled across my bed, brown hair tousled from a quick shower, water droplets lingering on his chest, His face lit by the screen of his phone, waiting for a response from “me”. “Meet me at my apartment, I’ve got something fun planned for you tonight.” was the message I’d received after just having left my gym session with Brett. His brows furrow, not yet having noticed me in the room, apparently worried that “I” might be bailing on him, before he looks up, eyes alight with lust and mischief. His face goes from lust to shock quickly upon realizing the figure entering the room is too tall to possibly be me. “Ah, I guess you’re the present.” I say, locking my phone, and the door behind be as I step all the way inside. Fitting that my dip back into his world ends up being one of his exes. Fine by me, I could use a quick meal. A few more steps bring me far enough into the low light from the bedside table to make out more details. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants, and my body is coated with a light sheen of sweat from the gym. I smile with intent and cross my arms over my chest, surveying the other man with a dark hunger. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” I murmur. “I think this is going to be fun.” “You’re not Troy, what the hell is this?” He stammers, sitting up, his boner plumping at the sight of a taller, stronger man. “No, I’m not.” I saunter closer, towering over the twink from his position on the bed, and rove my eyes over him appraisingly. “I wonder if you even know who I am...?” I murmur, absentmindedly raking a hand through my hair, flexing the pumped up muscles in my torso as I do. “I’ve heard about you, though. Heard you’re a big dick...or, hm...” I chuckle, leaning onto the bed and bracing an arm on each side of the guy before correcting myself: “that you are one. It’s one of those, I think.” “What’s it to you?” He gulps, the dick in question dribbling pre down his lightly muscled stomach. “Simple.” I hum quietly and lean into his ear, moving a hand up his thigh before murmuring, “I want it. So I’m going to take it. And if you have a problem with that...” I chuckle darkly and squeeze his thigh as I pull back to meet his eyes, mine flashing with promise. “Then you’ll have to stop me.” “What...” his breath catches as my hand grips his hardened shaft, silencing his qualms. My breath teases his length as I get closer, his heartbeat racing with anticipation. “Good.” I hum again, flashing eyes full of dark intent up at him before taking the tip of his cock into my mouth, sucking and laving my tongue over the head, hand squeezing a slow rhythm against his member. “So now...I’m going to take it. Inch by inch.” I place a hand against his stomach and take him into my throat, only mouthing at the first few inches, and as I do he starts to feel sensation in his cock growing unbearably strong, the suction almost painful—like he’s already come, and I’m forcing him through a torturous post-orgasm. After a minute that to him feels far longer, I come off of his cock with a self-satisfied grin—and coming off seems to reveal a bit less than there was before. “That’s one.” Before he can react I take him again, moving further down now that there’s less to take. He can’t help but mewl and knit his hands into my hair, hips lifting off the bed in little abortive movements like he can’t decide whether he wants more or less. The sensation grows only more intense, the mixture more pain than pleasure by the second, and every touch of my tongue against him feels like fire burning into his skin. Finally I come up again, tracing a teasing tongue up his shaft, smiling at the wince it produces before I look up at him with a challenging smirk. “And that’s two. If I’ve heard right...think that puts you at seven.” Now that he’s more manageable I continue more aggressively, grabbing him at each thigh and pulling him up into me, taking the whole length of him into my throat. He cries out at the feeling of it, the painful heat surrounding him, his hips jerking spasmodically at the overload of sensation. A half a minute of that later, and a few swipes of my tongue across his length cause him to shout, hands tightening in my hair as I pull him into me hard, taking him as deep as possible as his cock pulses its load into my throat. When he’s done, I finally release him to fall gasping on the bed as I wipe at my mouth. “Three. Welcome to average.” “What are you talking...?” He looks down, horrified, to see his dick at a much more modest 6 inches. “What the hell did you do?! Give it back!” He tries to argue, but your rather imposing frame makes for a lot of hesitation. He looks at my sweats, thinking blindly that he can still save this, still reverse everything back to normal...but upon taking me in his mouth, he hears a condescending chuckle. I let him have his way, giving him a few minutes to do what he will. His awkward attempt at getting me off is only compounded my the slight size increase I’ve gotten over the past few minutes, and at this point he’s having a hard time negotiating my girth in a comfortable way. When he seems to be taking a moment to figure out what to do next, I place a hand on his head. “Fine, you want a turn? Be my guest.” I slowly start to push him down, forcing him to take more and more of me, causing him to stretch his mouth uncomfortably wide. “I’ll...” I chuckle. “Give you some help.” His eyes begin to water, and he weakly pushes at my hands as I force myself further into his throat. “Breath through your nose,” I suggest through a suppressed moan. “Unless you want to literally choke on my dick. Which...you’d deserve.” I finally bottom out in his throat, and he moans around my length, occasionally gagging and trying to choke, but unable to around the cock filling him. “Now be good, and you’ll get what you wanted.” I hold his head still and begin to fuck into his throat, his nostrils flaring as he tries to get enough air, his hands limply falling to his sides as he accepts his fate. “Hmm, see? Is it everything you wanted?” I card a hand through his hair, prompting him to look up at me through teary eyes. A blast of salty sweet cum rockets down his throat, and I give him no choice but to swallow it all. “It might not be as sweet as yours, but...hehe, it’s certainly a nice mouthful, hmm?” After gagging to near death, trying his best to regain his breath, he pulls off, noting that I don’t seem to have gone down at all. However, a gnawing, growing pit in his stomach does not let him enjoy peace for long. With a loud groan from his stomach, he shivers, a cold chill going down his spine. “Feeling a tingle, huh?” I push him down onto his back and straddle him, my cock laying heavy across his stomach. “Too bad for you, this is a one-way street. You took a gamble,” I lean in and squeeze at his cock, “and the house always wins.” The sensation at his cock coupled with the gnawing hunger in his stomach makes him moan, and he feels that sensitivity spreading up into his torso. At the same time, he notices that in the position I’m in, he can see my abs becoming more defined by the second. I run a hand over the deepening grooves there, shifting my torso back and forth to flex my abs and smiling down at him. “Thanks for your...generous donation.” “Even more unfortunately for you, though,” I say with an exaggerated sigh, “You’ve basically given me your credit card information. So you’re gonna keep donating.” The tingling spreads further into his body, rising up into his chest and arms, down into his legs, any sensation becoming unbearable—such as the light fingertips tracing across his chest and teasing across nipples that scream with sensation at every touch. “Until I’m done with you.” My torso defines and shapes up, chest straining against the skin, abs tight and defined, biceps rippling and swelling with every movement. “And I’m inclined to take just about everything you’ve got.” His stomach groans as more and more size and virility is drawn from the point of contact, trying in vain to absorb my seed. “Fuck!” He moans out in torment, clutching his gut as more and more of him is repurposed. I keep roving my hands over his painfully-sensitive body, even as it continues to seemingly hollow itself out, muscle and shape gradually lessening, leaving him looking so skinny he almost seems emancipated, a dick no more than two inches hard dangling meekly between his legs, but still writhing in a near-delirious height of pleasure and pain, crying out even at the heat and weight of my cock pulsing against his torso. “Hm. There.” I get off him and towel myself off with my discarded sweatpants before throwing them on top of him. “Consider your debts paid. I’m gonna go use all this on someone who deserves it.”
  23. Preface This is another one of the stories of mine, that had lurked unfinished for a long time in the suitably named Unfinished sub-forum. Now I'm stuck, and I have nothing to add, so I posted the final version here. The theft machine He wasn't sure, when he first began to imagine his future revenge: How he would find a way to rob Russo and MacKenzie of their american-football physiques, and turn himself into a teenager with comic-books muscles. A horny teenager with superhero-muscles, who was going to gloat over Russo and MacKenzie over their now pathetically powerless physiques. The tables turned. The bullies bullied. Magic doesn't exist. Impossible machines are impossible. When he originally began to have those fantasies, there was no realistic hope, to make those fantasies into reality. The chain of events was too good to be true, but had happened anyhow: Leaving college and getting a post-graduate degree simultaneously, all at once. The articles about the "young science-genius", as the journalists put it. The research appointment. The first invention. The grant that allowed him to continue his research independently from any companies or universities. His own lab. The unexpected inheritance. In his mid-20s now. He took it in: His own lab. The large power cables running to and fro The Machine. The equipment to cool down the machine. The matter-transference conductors. The brainwave transmittors. The DNA extractors. The respirator masks. And the idea, that had turned the entire plan even more exciting: The emitters for anabolic radiation. He shivered pleasantly at the thought of it. Anabolic radiation. His throat felt thick, and it was difficult to swallow. He cleared his throat. He could feel his dong go hard inside his boxers. Soon. He had intentionally designed the glass cylinders to resemble the imaginary growth-chambers in cartoons he had watched as a child. They had watched. Russo and MacKenzie had grewn up with the same cartoons, of course. The cylinders were taller and wider than any human being. They were placed, so that the feet end of each cylinder formed a triangle with the other two. They were neither entirely reclining, nor entirely vertical, but reclined at a 45° angle, so that each specimen was half-standing, half-reclining, and able to watch what happened to the other two specimens. He wanted to be able to watch. Able to watch. He swallowed. He could feel his boxers become wet of pre-cum. Russo was half-reclining in his cylinder, and unconscious by the drug he had been given. "Hey, Alberg!" The memories returned, faded, fragmented. Alberg standing with his back to the lockers. Russo standing in front of him, with his arms on each side, blocking any escape. Russo chewing gum, his brown eyes burning of arrogance and rage and contempt. His hair like black silk, artfully styled into a hairdo popular back then. The scent of Russo's black leather jacket. The repeated, monotonous, insults. MacKenzie standing in the background. Broad. Burly. Buzzcut. Blond. Baseball jacket (well, american football, actually). Not saying anything. Without intervening. Allowing it. Letting it happen. Smirking at the remarks. Silently encouraging Russo. Russo's voice. "Hey, Alberg! Prof! Where did you get that shirt? It sucks! Out of my way, dweeb! Want to feel these stud muscles? Feel them! This is how a real man is built, weed. You disgust me, you little fag. Don't look at me like that, I'll thrash you, shrimp. Come on, MacKenzie, we are out of here." * * * He checked the buttons in Cylinder A: Three to control Cylinder A itself, four to control Cylinder B and four to control Cylinder C, all of them gradated on a scale from Level 1 to Level 10. There were also the two red diodes in the end of each scale that would warn, if the treatment increased to forbidden and dangerous levels beyond Level 10. The effect of a 120% level o a human being would either be lethal or unknown, and even the Machine itself wouldn't be able to process a 120% level more than a very short amount of time. He checked the gas canisters. He checked the sockets. He felt a brief burning pain, when he injected himself with the serum he had given the other two young men earlier, but it quickly faded away. There was no return now: The serum would soon kick in, and require the treatment. He passed by the empty cages, and remembered the experiments he had performed on the lab animals: The rats that shrunk. The rat that grew. The hamsters that shrunk. The hamster that ballooned into muscle. The chimpanzees: Both the emaciated wrecks and the brawny one that beamed of vitality. It was a pity, that he had to put it to death, because it began to behave in a too aggressive manner after the treatment. The experiments had been necessary, in order to assure that it was safe to expose human beings to the same process -- that is, at least as safe as possible. There was no way to ensure a 100 % level of safety, and the small, but ineluctable, risk of bad side-effects caused butterflies to flutter in his gut. He took his trousers off, removed his boxers, and put a stretchy, but several sizes too large, posing trunk on, and then dressed himself in the trousers again. Then he put a pair of several sizes too large trainers from Converse on his feet. He had nicked them from MacKenzie. Scott. * * * His revenge fantasies had, by necessity, changed during College. Of all eighteen year olds, he could have been forced to share room with, MacKenzie was the second-last he would have preferred, but that was, how events turned out. The first days were awkward. Alberg avoided his new room-mate, but MacKenzie seemed surprisingly interested in talking, and he behaved surprisingly decently. His icy blue eyes were shining with a seemingly sincere will to be friendly and helpful. MacKenzie helped Alberg to put a few boxes with less necessary belongings on a high shelf. Alberg felt embarrassed when MacKenzie prepared for bedtime, and went to bed, only wearing a pair of jockstraps. It had become obvious after a few days, that MacKenzie had left American football behind, and now focused entirely on lifting weights. There were plastic jars of food supplements in MacKenzie's part of the room, which he punctually gulped down at certain times of the day or the week. Only a few weeks passed, until MacKenzie asked Alberg the unexpected question: "Would you like to keep me company at the gym? I could teach you to lift." It took considerably longer time, until they had been able to discuss the past. Scott seemed to be unaware of, how Alberg had felt, and it was like he had had no clue, that the bullying had been something else than "friendly banter". When the truth dawned, the broad, burly, buzzcut blond bodybuilder had become terrified by the thought, and he resembled a remorseful big St. Bernard puppy with an expression of sadness in his eyes, when he had apologized. The days following, Scott hadn't been his usual happy and confident self, but expressed his friendship and loyalty to Alberg by awkward pats on the shoulders. And then, later in the autumn, Scott had returned from a party at a sorority house very drunk. Alberg had been asleep, but awoke when Scott returned home to their room at the dorm. He was obviously drunk, and was more noisy than usual, when he undressed. Then something unexpected happened. Scott joined Alberg in the latter's bed, and Alberg wasn't able to interpret what was happening. Scott's broad, burly, buzzcut, blond presence laid there, with a breath revealing an intake of beer, and with armpits and a warm chest emitting whiffs of anti-perspirant. "Scott? This is my bed, not your own bed. What are you doing here?" Scott hadn't answered, at first. Scott's big index finger touched Alberg's ear, and then he whispered: "Do you mind, if I sleep in your bed? I like to be close to you. You are like a little smart angel." Yes. His revenge fantasies had, by necessity, changed during College. * * * NOW. It was time. All these years. The sting of Scott's words at their second break-up, hurting him: "I love you, Angelboy. I do. But I want to explore ... I want to find out, how it is to have sex with a bigger man." Scott's words when they began to mend their relationship again: "I love to be with you, and I love to help you grow bigger. That was true, when I coached you at your first workout, and that is true now. We will be together for ever." NOW. It was time. He glanced at Cylinder C, in which Scott half-reclined, half stood, his eyes drowsy after helping Alberg putting Russo in Cylinder B. Broad, burly, buzzcut, blond. Bigger, than in the past. The love in his eyes. And the URGE. They had discussed THE URGE, and found, that they, despite their dissimilarities, shared it: "Fuck, little buddy, if it was possible, I would love to grow IMMENSE, and I would love to see you grow bigger than me -- a hard fukker able to carry me." NOW. It was time. Fright fluttered in his guts. THE URGE grew, raising like a tidal wave, competing with the fright. He entered Cylinder A, closed it and put the respirator on his lower face. The risks. The possibilities. He switched the Machine on. It hummed. It hissed. Conductors working. Transference Level 1. DNA alterations. Transmitters working. Brainwave transmission. He shivered. His throat felt thick again. He cleared it. He could feel his hard-on grow inside his posing trunks. He readied himself for the impact. And then it happened. IMPACT. * * * IMPACT!!!! When he later looked back at the impossible and unexpected, frightening and delightful adventures they had encountered on The Day Of His Revenge, it was hard to decide which part of it had been the best, but the initial IMPACT was one of them: Pleasure enhanced by fear. It was happening, but what would it do to him? What would it make him into? What would it cause him to become? Uh! Yes! BECOME! Was there still any dangers he had overlooked? Any flaw, that would cause monstrous side-effects? Too late, now. Too late to stop. It had begun! TOO LATE! IT HAD BEGUN! THE IMPACT! His skin and his muscles buzzed, his brain entered a state he had never felt any time before, and an indulgent pleasure began to flow through his veins: A luxurious and tempting, tantalizing and inviting hunger for robbing both of the other two of all they got. Rob them. Of all they got. There was no reason to deny, that Russo was handsome. He always was. He remembered the handsome teenaged face of Russo in high school distorted by arrogance, staring at him uncomfortably close. The handsome eyes of Russo, like tiger iron, like mahagony, burning terrifyingly by adolescent rage. Like a piece of art disfigured by one single but flagrant detail. Russo back then: Still boyish cheeks, but trying to play tough and hard. Russo now: The cheekbones, that opened the doors for him to modeling. Russo, when they met again at a reunion a few years ago: Pretending that nothing had happened in the past. Behaving like he had never spoken those damning words in the past. Accepting Alberg's and Scott's relationship, as he had never cursed fags in the past. Being dude and bro with Scott, joking, playing. Even behaving friendly towards Alberg. Who knows what lurks in the hearts of men? Who knows what is real change, real improvement in a man? Still cocky, but now for his modelling job. Had left American football behind. Didn't aim at Scott's gains. Seemed to lack THE URGE. The urge Scott and himself shared and share, despite the hardgainer size of his. Russo's olive-coloured torso exposed to the transference: Fit. Always in shape. Conditioned. Ready for next photo-shoot. But not ready for the transference. The transmission. Could probably place well in Men's Physique. Could never place well in a bodybuilding competition. Scott had removed Russo's jeans, but the latter was still wearing his Calvin Kleins. Discount because he modelled for that company in the past. Come on Russo! Wake up! Face the horror! Face my revenge! I'll drain you, shithead! Yeah, that's right! open your eyes, you fukking wanker! Level 2! This will teach you! Yes, open your eyes like that! You can't stay asleep now! Not now! "Wait? What's happening? I said I would let you show me your Lab. Let me out, Alberg! Don't smile like that, Scott! It isn't funny!" Yes. Level 2 will teach you. Or perhaps level 3! It intensified. THE IMPACT. He couldn't believe it. He had known theoretically. He had seen the lab animals. But he hadn't been able to guess how it FELT. How it messed with his body in a delightful way. How it messed with his brain in a way that didn't matter. All that mattered were the gains. THE URGE. He grabbed his left pec, and felt how it was growing bigger. Firmer. Gym-shaped hardgainer-physique turning into something more. Something else. More like Scott. He pressed the button for Cylinder C. Of course he would press the button for Cylinder C. The controls. Not for revenge, because they had overcome so many obstacles together. Just to feel. Just to feel how it felt to be like Scott. Just to feel how it felt to BE Scott. Level 2. Level 3. Russo's voice distracting him: "Hey Alberg! Stop that! It isn't funny." Scott's icy blue eyes widening. His mouth hidden behind the respirator. Scott's voice: "I told you before. I want to see you grow, even if I'll have to face some loss of gainz on the road. I can see how you grow. I love you, power-hobbit!" Russo's voice becoming squeaky and shrill, for a contrast. Not able to control himself. Losing his cool. He always avoided losing his cool. He now sounded like his voice was breaking a second time. "Shit, stop that for fuck's sake. I'm losing my condition! I'm fucking shrinking!" And he was. Alberg watched him. The fear in Russo's eyes. Russo in Cylinder B: Naked. Vulnerable. Scott in Cylinder C. Mighty chest exposed. Bleached denim jeans. A bulge in his jeans. Alberg knew what Scott was wearing inside his jeans. The gains streaming into himself. Scott shrinking. Russo shrinking. A smirk forming on Alberg's lips. Feeling smug. Too similar to the ways of Russo in the past to feel entirely comfortable. But he had got THE URGE. The hunger that flew through his veins. The luxurious and tempting, tantalizing and inviting hunger. Rob them. Feel Russo's level of condition combined with Scott's sheer mass. He shivered again. He couldn't control himself, when he pressed the controls for Cylinder B and Cylinder C. He wanted it so much. He wanted it so eagerly. Unable to control himself. He was controlled by THE URGE and the new Self that was emerging. Emerging out of the process. Level 4. His eyes widened. His jaw fell slack, as his lips and teeth parted to form a lustful expression, as he took the body transfer in, and became entranced by the brainwave transmission. He didn't know it, but his eyes were beginning to burn by the sort of arrogant gaze Russo had sported in the past. Level 4... Yes... it happened ... Better than he had thought ... He squeezed his left pec again. Russo's enfeebled complaints in Cylinder B didn't concern him. He was gaining. He was growing. He was slowly approaching Scott's build and Russo's former condition, combined. He reposed confidently in the experience for a while, and then he gathered himself enough to go ahead with the next step. * * * He decreased the transfer level to Level 1. His heart-rate returned to normal, and he took the sight of them in. The frail shape of Russo rested emaciated in Cylinder B, feebly pressing his small palms to the inside of the glass surface, and emitting a rueful whimper: "No. No. Not to me. Why? No." A rag-doll. A scrawny shrimp. Who called whom a scrawny shrimp in the past? He shuddered. He averted his gaze. The present sound and shape of Russo caused any remaining grudges to fade and go out. He felt a void in his guts. When he directed his attention to Scott, the process had affected the latter, too, though less severely. Scott's innate massiveness and persevering dedication to the gym had defended him against some of the onslaught, and he rather looked like a promising junior bodybuilder in an extreme state of exhausting condition the day before a competition. Not the burly bulking-shape he usually sported. Scott's icy blue eyes watched him with the most trustful gaze. Alberg shuddered. Trustful gaze. Scott was the best man among the three. The half-truths he had told Scott, in order to lure him into the experiment. Half-truths. Not the sincerity and trust Scott showed him in return. Love welled up. Love mixed with regret. Time for next step. Time to reward Scott. Time to reward Russo, the way he had promised Scott. Time to experience this together. Never done on human beings before. If he had calculated it wrong ... He would never forgive himself if he harmed Scott. No! Never Scott! He hoped for the results he had intended. Here goes. He activated the anabolic radiation in Cylinder B and Cylinder C, and braced himself for what he hoped to see happen. And it happened. * * * He was expectant to watch Scott resume his size. And Scott grew. His boyfriend's muscles slowly began to beef up. They didn't return entirely to the puffy and bulked state they had been, before he stole some his boyfriend's gains, but the added level of condition allowed them to look bigger than before. He shivered pleasantly, as he watched Scott grow. The respirator made it difficult to see any details of Scott's facial expression, but from what he could guess from Scott's eyes, the latter loved the feeling. Scott's jeans had hung baggy on his legs after the muscle-transference, but now Scott was beginning to fill his jeans again, and there was a bulge behind his fly. Russo was recovering too. His eyes stared in relief and disbelief, when his firm and fit model-body returned in shape, and he stared at Alberg's engorging physical shape. Staring. Almost admiringly. "Want to feel these stud muscles?", Alberg thought. Feel them! This is how a real man is built, weed. Time for the next mischief. Alberg increased transference level from Cylinder B to Level 2. Two things happened. Another rush of energy and pleasant heaviness filled him, and another groan rose from Russo's cylinder: "No! Not again! My gains! What game are you playing? It's not funny!" Alberg allowed a few seconds to pass. Then he increased the level of anabolic radiation in the other two cylinders, and swallowed in delighted anticipation. Scott moaned first. Then Russo. They must be feeling something similar he had felt, when the Machine transmitted muscle mass to him, earlier. He liked, that they liked it. He liked to inflict pleasure to them, especially to Scott, so he increased the levels of anabolic radiation to Level 3, then Level 4. Loud grunts from Scott, and he could see his boyfriend flex inside the cylinder. The hair on the back of his head bristled at the sight of -- and noise coming from -- his growing boyfriend. Russo grunted, too. Grunting, increasingly mixed with yelps of pleasure. YES! Inflicting them pleasure! He increased anabolic radiation to Level 5, and transference to Level 3. IMPACT! A nice buzzing feeling hit his body. The other two young men now grew faster, than he drained them. They shared a quite enjoyable feeling, growing together. Yes: Enjoyable feeling, but he wanted MORE. He knew that THE URGE raged inside Scott, and THE URGE raged inside himself, too -- now more than ever before, like the process had unlocked a hidden part of him: A cocky, virile part of him, ravenous for more muscle mass. MORE! Anabolic radiation Level 6, and transference to Level 4. Yes! Back to the earlier levels of transference, but now fed with high amounts of brawn born out of heightened levels of anabolic radiation. Scott gained. Russo gained. And Alberg robbed them of half of it. Scott's grunts turned into the sort of enraptured yelps Russo had emitted earlier, but it was hardly a sound of complaint. With a large amount of self-control, Scott shouted something in that moaning voice: "FUCK! YES! Bombard me! Bombard us all! I want ... Uh! Oh, shit ... so good ... I WANT BRAWN!" Alberg could feel the meat in his trousers tent in response to Scott's words. He shivered pleasantly, and then he increased anabolic radiation to Level 8 and transference to Level 6. Ecstacy. The raw, pure experience of adding mass. He could share Scott's and Russo's experience of energy bombardment. He felt ... He felt ... Then he felt how tight his trousers had become around his thighs. Painfully tight. So painful. His quads and hamstrings felt so powerful now. And then the fabric capitulated. His QUADS and HAMSTRINGS EXPLODED out of his trousers, and the shreds fell to the foot-end of the cylinder. He could feel the size of his traps and the massiveness of his lats and pecs, the power of his tricepses ... It could only be a matter of seconds until his t-shirt ... There it went. Tatters. Shreds. Because he was becoming A POWER HOUSE of muscle mass. EXPLODING out of ... Oh. It felt so good. He opened his eyes. It was happening to Scott now. He eagerly watched something similar happen to Scott: Scott bulgingly EXPLODING out of his sexy, but too small, denim jeans, causing his black wet-look posing trunks to show. Alberg looked down. His pec-shelf obscured some of the view, but, ok, his golden posing trunk was visible now. They both knew what they liked to watch, but it was something of a surprise, that Russo was taking in the sight of his bros' posers, too. Muscle -- clad in wet-look black. Muscle -- clad in gold. Towering. Fuck! Still growing! Couldn't have dreamed of ... "Wait! Too much! You are ruining my model body!" Russo whining again. Alberg and Scott were turning Russo into a eye-popping mass-freak, and he was an ingrate? Fucking boring ingrate, but if Russo wasn't going to cherish that amount of mass, Alberg knew someone who would. He smirked inside the respirator and fidgeted with the controls. Cylinder B: Transference Level 9. Dangerously high level, but if Russo wanted to return to his boring model-physique ... So be it. Bombarding the two hunks with anabolic radiation and FORCING them to grow. Inflicting pleasure. And then rob Scott of two-thirds of his gains. Rob Russo of ALL his gains, keeping him as before. To absorb all that brawny muscle mass. Absorb jock-strength. Absorb increased jock-strength. Absorb heightened jock-strength. Absorb the jock mindset. Yes! Crammed into his defenceless bulging body! Absorb! -BSORB -BSORB -BSORB -BSORB -BSORB What happened next surprised Alberg and Scott. * * * "Fuck! Yes! Rob me of it! ABSORB all that extra mass! I love to see you grow like that! That baby face on that jock body. Uh. Me restored. You perfect. Love it. Look at him MacKenzie! Your boyfriend is PERFECT!" A number of contradicting feelings rushed through Albergs mind. No? It wasn't possible? Russo? Admired him? But why? The surprise confused him so much, that he re-set all Levels to zero, and turned The Machine off. The humming slowed down and fell silent. After a click, they were able to open the cylinders and leave. Scott had a slightly disappointed expression on his face, when he removed his respirator. Scott hugging him, but whispering: "So good. I wanted MORE!" One warm presence comfortably pressed to his own warm physical presence. Russo standing there, legs shaking, some of his old confidence shaken, too. "Whoooah. Alberg! That's ... uh ... that's quite impressive." Russo reached out his hand and felt Alberg's left pec. "You say?" Alberg felt confused by the situation, but forced himself to smile, and he willingly flexed his pecs, which forced Russo to emit a quick moan. Something happened in Russo's eyes. And something happened in Russo's Calvin Kleins, too. Scott was inspecting his new gains, too, and the sight of the two gay muscle-studs obviously caused Russo to become uncomfortable and incredibly horny. The only of the three of them, who felt entirely comfortable with the entire situation, was Scott, who unprompted began a few highlights from his old posing routine. Double biceps. BULGE! Scott had placed second at bodybuilding competitions on a regional level twice: Big enough to draw attention at his own gym (and make Alberg crazy in bed), but not the cut above needed to become a winner, that is, in the past. The present Scott looked amazing. If he had reached that level by natural means, he had probably been able to turn pro. The same was true about Alberg now. Huh! Side chest. STEEL PEC! Hiss! Scott flexed his abs, and Russo stared at him with an embarrassed and mesmerized gaze. Uh! Most muscular. GRANITE BRAWN! Russo couldn't restrain another yelp. SPROING! Alberg felt proud of his boyfriend, but the sensations of his own new body divided his attention, and he moved his big hand over his pecs, his abs, his Apollo's belt, and then he cupped his improved man-meat inside his shiny golden posers. Russo's eyes widened, and there was a spot of pre-cum on Russo's Calvin Kleins. Alberg felt slightly confused. Confused and empowered, elated and disappointed. He didn't understand what he felt. It felt like he couldn't think clearly. He approached Russo, and became aware of his own waddling gait, as his thighs rubbed against each other in an unfamiliar way. Somehow, his changed gait and posture caused his self-esteem to rocket. He faced Russo, and looked down at him. Taller than Russo now. That realization sent a pleasant wave through his chub. Looked down at him. "If I remember correctly, Russo, fags disgust you, don't they?" Oh, how unusual that blush on Russo's cheeks. Wild-eyed, like a trapped animal in the presence of the Alpha predator. Pleasant wave through his chub, and a surge of confidence in his guts. "Whoooah, Alberg. Hey, dude, it was years ago. Years and years. I was a kid. I wouldn't have reconnected with you two after the reunion, if I had remained like that. Times change. Why bring that up NOW? Wait! Whooah! Hey! Why?" There were no clothes on Russo's upper body, otherwise he would have grabbed Russo's shirt. Pity. So he grabbed Russo's armpits and lifted him up, so that they could face each other. He noticed, how he could lift the frightened little model without effort, and that insight caused another surge of pleasure billow through him. "Yes, why WOULD you have reconnected with us? You have changed your mind. Good. It seems like you like what you see, eh?" He couldn't hinder himself from smiling. His smile didn't seem to calm Russo down. Good. Russo swallowed. He shuddered, and there were mixed feelings in his eyes: Terror. Embarrassment. Lust. "Fuck, yes. I ..." He shuddered and yelped. "Shit. I always felt so ashamed by how horny you made me. Stupid to blame you. I love how you lift me now, Babyface. And I love the muscle-machine you turned MacKenzie into. You ..." Russo shuddered again. "You are the perfect couple, you two. You are so ..." Russo's eyes widened, he instinctively held his breath, and then he gulped the air in breathlessly. His body became limp in Alberg's grip. "Fuck. Your display of strength caused me to cum. Sorry." Alberg put Russo down, and the latter sat down on the lab floor, and catched his breath. "Sorry guys." The turn of events caused Alberg to feel more confused. * * * Scott was probably the one, who handled the situation best. He approached his boyfriend, pressed his groin and chest into the latter's now considerably wider back, and began to feel Alberg's newly won muscles. Scott's body heat and weight pressed to Alberg's own. Scott's stubble to his own afternoon shade cheek. Scott's soft lips nibbling at his ear. Scott's big hands on his new meaty pec and hard abs. He shivered. Scott helped him take it in: His new heavier, sturdier, BULGING body. "I love it. I love you. Amazing. Just as you promised." Scott's big hand cupped the shiny golden fabric that covered Alberg's meat. Scott squeezed. Alberg shivered again. "But what if you added MORE? Why stop now? And if I understood you correctly, you didn't add those growth-ray things in your own cylinder, did you?" Squeeze. "The growth-rays are awesome. You try some growth rays. You don't need to absorb anyone else's muscles for that, do you?" Squeeze. "I want to see you add MORE. You look like a bodybuilder now. What if you looked like an Olympia Pro?" Squeeze. "What do you say?" Scott felt good. What he said felt good. It was so hard to think clearly. Try some growth rays? Ok, why not. He began to walk to Cylinder C, and touched the lid. "Will you operate the cylinder, Scott? Did you understand what I said about the controls?" There was a boyish light in Scott's eyes and a bright smile on his face, when Scott crawled into Cylinder A to operate the next step of the experiment. Alberg stepped inside Cylinder C, and closed the lid. They were facing each other through the glass of the two cylinders, and they could hear each other through speakers. Two powerful bodybuilders with tanned muscles, one in gold posers, another in black wet-look posers, watching each other. The thrill in his guts began again. No need for the respirator now. All compounds were already in his system, still active, still changing them all three. Thrill in his guts. Scott's eyes. Scott fidgeting with the controls. Still changing them. Never felt the rays before. Seen what the rays did to the animals. Began to behave in a too aggressive manner after the treatment. But impressive. Scott's loving gaze. Scott's naked intimidating MASS in Cylinder A. Scott's encouraging gaze. Scott's mischievous gaze. The scent of Scott inside Cylinder C. Surrounded by the scent of growing Scott. Sweat. Anti-perspirant. Shower cream. Scent of jock body. Surrounded. The humming returned. Jock body ... Never felt the rays before. Never felt the. Never felt. IMPACT! The air surrounding him buzzed, nay, crackled with POWER that beefed him up. So THIS is what Scott and Russo had felt earlier? Yeah! So good! All his muscles twitched and felt similar to pump and soreness, but yet something else. Warm. Heavy. Hard. Warmer. Heavier. Harder. Buzzed, nay, crackled. ... couldn't remember the scientific name of the growth-rays anymore. Didn't matter. The only thing that mattered ... ... was THE GROWTH! Scott making him ... UH! Scott making him bigger. Scott turning him into ... UH! Scott turning him into a super-jock! Couldn't have dreamed ... Better, than he had imagined ... Dim knowledge of danger ... UH! Danger didn't matter. The growth-rays mattered. The growth-rays adapted him. UH! Adapted him. Caused him to take the brunt of it all. Enabled him to swallow MORE, take MORE of it. MORE than any other man. Causing him to grow MORE. UH! YES, MORE! Adapted him! He cupped his pec. Like an impossible medicine ball, and still growing. More like a big melon now. Warm beef. Heavy beef. He flexed. Steel-hard beef. Nothing mattered. BEEF mattered. His widening back grinded against his harder triceps, forcing his rougher, thicker arms to hang out from the sides of his body. The way Scott walked. Lats. Scott told him. The beefy part of the back. Causing the bodybuilder posture. The bodybuilder gait. Wobbling shoulders. Waddling legs. Arms hanging out to the sides. The way he walked now. UH! Adapted him! Jock scent. His own jock scent mixed with Scott's jock scent. So big now. Able to crush anything. Mmmmm. Crush. He cupped his biceps. Flexed. Felt so good. He let his biceps and his lips meet. Kissed his own biceps. Licked it. So hard. The fucking power making him even STRONGER. UH! Coudn't stop himself from licking his own biceps more. What happened to his biceps, happened to his entire body: Enhancing. The striations and the veins that emerged. The uncrushable firmness. Licking his biceps. Lost in this, now. Hard to think, but who needed to think, when they were becoming strong beyond human limits? UH! Scott's eyes. Scott's love to him, visible in his eyes. Scott's horniness visible in his eyes. Scott turning him into what Scott wanted him to be. Scott's URGE was awake. And Scott knew, that Alberg's URGE was awake. URGE to grow big. URGE to grow BIGGER. URGE to grow ... UH! Beyond human limits! Alberg closed his eyes and lost himself in the overwhelming experience. That was the reason, why he wasn't aware of what happened next. * * * "Yeah. I look forward to this!" Scott's enthusiastic voice caused Alberg to open his eyes, and what he saw caused him alarm. Scott was now resting in Cylinder B, and closed the lid after himself. Russo had entered Cylinder A, and was now in control of The Machine, smiling smugly. Cylinder B began to hum. Scott shivered. Alberg could see Scott's black poser fill out, because of Scott's expectations. No! How could Scott trust the unreliable little handsome runt? That smug smile on Russo's face. It was obvious, that he would steal the gainz from both of them, rob Alberg of his revenge, and turn Scott into a shadow of his cheerful, virile self. Now and then, under the impact of the growth rays, Alberg was writhing and wriggling – shrugging to adapt his posture to his increasing MASS, and Scott began to behave in the same manner. Also letting out little yelps of pleasure. Russo. Smug. Couldn't trust ... ... OH! FUCK! Yes, Russo was increasing the growth rays in Alberg's Cylinder. Hard to concentrate, when it increased like that. The experience of EMBIGMENT. Like a wave of STRENGTH endowing it's qualities to him in it's overwhelming billow. And then came the icy cold experience of terror he had feared. Another sound. Another protocol. He hadn't heard it from the robbed side before. Russo robbing them of their gainz! Weaker wasn't the word for what he felt: The growth ray now worked at an even more heightened level, than before, and Alberg actually grew faster than Russo was able to rob him, but it wasn't the eventual effect, that tuned his guts into ice, but the mere knowledge, that his former bully, of all people, was able to FEED on him. -BSORB -BSORB -BSORB Russo moaned, but then fidgeted with the controls. The sound of the absorbation protocol faded down. Without the absorbation to hold it back, the growth felt more intense now. So intense. Hard to concentrate. Hard to think. The runt speaking: "Sorry MacKenzie. Sorry Alberg. Just wanted to taste it. Feels awesome, but I can't ruin my present shape by going too big. The photographers are picky." Scott moaned in his even deeper voice, rather than spoke, when he answered: "You are welcome. Now, do what we agreed on. I want both of us to go testo-fuelled super-humans. No holding back, anymore. No holding back." "Ok, MacKenzie. I love watching you two. At the reunion, I realized that you two are the sort of gays I get on with. Feel at home with. Didn't dare to admit to myself before. Your hospitality helped me to become a real person, if you know what I mean. So glad that Alberg had been bit by the growth bug. Could relate to that. Now, when I am in command of The Machine, I will turn you two into my personal Terminators. Make space marines a reality. Make you into two living, breathing Hulks! Increasing level! It hit him. It must have hit Scott, too, because both of them let out roars. Uh! Roars! Roaring! Writhing! Wriggling! SO INTENSE NOW! If the growth rays had felt like a rain or a hailstorm of energy before – a rain of energy transforming him and Scott – it now felt like standing in a cascade of strength-inducing power now. An AVALANCHE of strength-inducing power. Russo and his cylinder looked like they were shrinking. He adapted his posture. He had to stand with his legs wider apart. Confidently wide apart. Thighs rubbing to each other. The shrinking size of Russo was just an illusion, because it was Alberg who was growing. He could watch Scott grow, too. The sight made him horny. Yeah: Jock boyfriend. Yeah: Muscle-god boyfriend. He could feel the rod in his golden posers tent, and he could feel it throb and expand. Scott stared at him, and was reacting in a similar way: Scott's wet-look poser was stretched, and revealed the root of Scott's bronze cannon. Alberg could feel his traps bulge, rougher, thicker, like the mountain ridge Scott had between his neck and his shoulders, and both their bull-necks were like baileys carrying their heads. Deep, deep ridges between their cannon-ball abs, now. Brief pain when his canines became more ... uh ... he felt with his tongue ... his canines became more canine. Something happened to his chin and jaw. More powerful now. YEAH! MORE POWERFUL! Scott was now bigger and more conditioned than any Olympia Pro, and, by the feel of it, Alberg understood, that he himself had transformed beyond that limit, too. An AVALANCHE of strength-inducing power. BEYOND! Alberg flexed his biceps. That made Russo insanely excited: "Fuck! Shit! Yes! Alberg! You're amazing! Can't believe it! So ... UH!" Russo did something to the controls. An alarm went off with a bleering sound, and red rotating lights were lit. AVALANCHE of strength-inducing power. Alberg should have been worried now, but he wasn't. AVALANCHE of strength-inducing power. The Urge turned into insanity, but it didn't matter. He was The Urge. He was Jock Power. He was Muscle-god BRAWN. He kissed his biceps. He licked it. He explored the new veins on the engorged and bulbous globe of strength. Licked it. Felt how it grew rapidly under his lips. Felt how the rest of him grew rapidly under the awesome influence of The Machine. The sound of Scott moaning. Jock-moans. The sound of the runt wanking, because the sight of Alberg was irresistible. Yeah, irresistible. Expanding. Adding MEGA-MASS. Becoming a titan, built by veiny boulders upon veiny boulders. The URGE for MEGA-MASS! Standing among mists of pure energy. Inhaling the mists of pure energy. Absorbing the mists of pure energy. Tenting. The stretchy fabric of his posers only able to cover his dick-head now. The head of his cannon rubbing itself against the inside of the poser fabric. Rubbing. Felt good. Touched his hip, where a thin band of fabric held his struggling posers in place. Pounding in his temples. Flexed his chest. Rubbed his own traps with his bigger hand. Most muscular. Felt his own impossibly hard quads. Standing in the AVALANCHE of strength-inducing power. Letting it rush into his insatiable URGE. Standing. Commandingly. Standing. Dominantly. Standing. God-like. Forced to grow MORE. Erupt into powerful, irresistible BRAWN. The impossible might. The impossible might increasing. Scott moaning. Standing in the AVALANCHE of strength-inducing power. The difference between human flesh and crackling, buzzing power diminishing. Disappearing. Brimming of pure, raw, masculine strength. Becoming more than a man. BECOMING impossible might. BECOMING MEGA-MASS! BECOMING an AVALANCHE of strength-inducing power. BECOMING mists of pure energy. Becoming a broad, burly, buzzcut power-titan of pure, raw crackling, buzzing, brimming, empowering, insanely intense, engorging, throbbing, surging, overwhelming, exploding ... STRENGTH! The feeling of becoming taller, harder and stronger mixed with the feeling of orgasm, and they both mixed with the feeling of becoming like a battery charged by the output of an entire power house. Charged. The. Output. Of. An. Entire. Power. House. YES! POWER HOUSE! BEYOND! BEYOND! BEYOND! POWER HOUSE! He didn't become unconscious, but he wasn't aware of his surroundings, and he didn't know for how long he had been lost in that ecstatic sea of pure strength and virility. * * * He slowly returned to consciousness. Fresh air seeped in from the open lid, and Scott and Russo was looking at him. He sat upright, and began to climb out of the cylinder. Yeah, felt bigger now. Impossibly big. The biggest. The unfamiliar feeling of his, now towering, physique, caused him to move clumsily. His naked feet rested on the floor. He cupped his left pec with his right hand, and squeezed again. The feeling caused him to emit a satisfied grunt. Russo watched him. "What are you looking at, Dweeb?" Alberg's powerful arm reached out, and pinned Russo against the wall. "Not so tough now?" Russo squirmed, pinned to the wall, with Alberg's big fist around his neck, but his eyes didn't express undiluted fear. Something with Russo's gaze and smile betrayed how much he seemed to like it. "No, not so tough when my beastially huge master dominate me. Sir!" The answer -- and the entire situation -- caused a wave of pleasure to billow through them both. Both were naked, and there was no mean to hide their physical reactions. Scott took the sight of his now titanic boyfriend in, and the sight of the latter dominating Scott's childhood friend. He couldn't stop himself from stroking himself. Scott's reaction drove the other two crazy: Alberg let Russo go for a second, then grabbed the back of Russo's head, forcing Russo's mouth closer to Alberg's steel-python. The model eagerly swallowed the titan's member, and the cavernous lab echoed of their moans and grunts, until all three reached relief. * * * They had showered, but before the first shower, Alberg had Russo take measures for Alberg's and Scott's new clothes. None of their old clothes did fit anymore, and he had expected that. Two companies had been warned beforehand about incoming urgent orders this day. It gave him a smug satisfaction to see Russo tremble of excitement when he took Alberg's and Scott's measures: "Whooah. You are 6'6'' now, bro, sorry, Master. Don't see the the scales, because of the pec-shelf? OK, it's 370 pounds, ugh. Your legs, ehe, they, wow, they are 35 inches. Your chest is, uh, it is, wow, it is 72 inches. Eh. Uh. Fuck! Will you flex your arm, while I use this measuring-tape? 28 inches... Oh, Uhnnnn, yes, Master, your arm is... ugh... is TWENTY-EIGHT INCHES! Uhn Uhn Uhn, sorry Master, I couldn't stop myself from..." The package with new clothes arrived with special delivery five hours later, just fresh out of the sewing machines. The lads had found satisfying ways to occupy themselves, while they waited for the delivery. The content was what Alberg had expected. He watched Scott step into the camo-patterned cargo-trousers, and button them. Then he became preoccupied with his own trousers: Black, glossy leather-trousers. He inhaled the scent of leather, and put them on, feeling the leather tightly hug his powerful quads and hamstrings, and his voluminous calves and glutes. He buttoned his trousers, and he could feel his manhood crawl down one of his trouser-legs, forming a discernable outline through the smooth, glossy leather. The sturdy, rather wide, belt followed. He stepped inside his boots: Not boots with lace as Scott had chosen, but biker boots. Glossy leather cuffs. His jacket. No need to wear anything else under the jacket. He wanted to show off. Russo behaved as an enthusiastic puppy, when he was allowed to follow his two new masters to the club. They knew, who would become the centre of the club this night. All three of them knew. Alberg's revenge hadn't turned out exactly as he had expected. It had turned out better.
  24. ZFerrari

    Ethan...

    You know, you would think since your best friend is this muscular kid, life would be easier. But not for good ole Randy. Yes my name is Randy and my best friend is a muscular arrogant guy for his age. This kid is only 17. Ethan is a different breed I tell you. He apparently has this hereditary ability to grow his muscles to his max ability. If he wants grow bigger he has to workout more to reach another limit. I would call complete bullshit if I didnt see this at the pool the other day. However I do call bullshit that its hereditary. Hell if i know it was probably from the wishirite. But thats a myth. We were at the pool with Rachel, Jacob and Don. He has this huge crush on Rachel, and I can't be mad at him. This blonde chick is cute. I guess he wanted to surprise her. And wanted everybody else to see him destroy don since nobody knew about his power but me. Don was already muscular but he got that naturally. Ethan hates not being the only muscular one in our friend circle, thats why he doesn't like don. I respect don though, he's not arrogant but has a lil bit of bitch tendencies. Rachel was on the side laying on a chair when Ethan walked up. I'm in the pool wrestling with Jacob. I look over, to see Rachel now talking to Ethan. He's making her laugh. "My boy" I thought to myself smiling. That distraction gave Jacob the perfect time to drag me under the water. Don comes out the bathroom to see them talking. He calmly walks over to Ethan, taps him on the shoulder and punches him off the chair. I'm sorry I saw that. I couldnt help but laugh. But that doesn't really sit well with Ethan. "Hey asshole!" Ethan yells. Don just ignores him. "Dickhead!!" Ethan yells. Don looks at him and does the most disrespectful thing. He picks Ethan up and Yeets him into the pool, on tol of Jacob. I couldnt help but laugh even harder, cuz that shit was hilarious. Ethan and jacob rise back above the water, and Ethan's death stare shuts me up. He then grins, and winks at me. Thats a sign cuz I know whats about to happen Rachel doesn't know what to make of the situation she just saw. She just sat there with her mouth open. "Hey don" Ethan says with an evil smirk on his face. Don turns around to Ethan flexing both his biceps. "Hope your ready for a show." Don gives this confused look on what's he supposed to be seeing. Don saw 2 arms built like walking sticks. He assert dominance by flexing his own biceps. Veins run all over his 18 inch biceps. His face smiling from flexing as hard as he could, but quickly relxaxed into a shocked face as he saw Ethan's biceps slowly growing. Growing passing 16 inches and keeps going. 17, 18, 19 inches surpassing both Don and his own personal record and 19 inches and finally stops at 20 inches. Don now dumbfounded relazes his whole body and stares. Ethan now laughing grows,mor eof his body. Starting with the forearms to match his biceps. Veins running everywhere around his arms. Then his lats and pecs. His pecs start growing out from his chest. His chest expands and contracts from his breathing. His stomach contracts then 1 by 1 each ab pops in you can hear pop after pop when each an pops in. Ethan at this is now laughing sinisterly, while Jacob Don and Rachel are staring at them now in a huddle. I'm still in the pool shaling my head wondering whats gonna happen when he's done. His abs now form a firm six pack running with veins. His legs now explode with power, growing out to form bodybuilder legs. All his muscles are now bulging with power. To intimidate Don, he hits a most muscukar and his muscles now explode tremendously. "Did y'all enjoy?" Erhan asked. Rachel and Jacob claps. Don looks at me and says "Your boy is a freak." I nod and say "I know". Before Don can turn back around, Ethan picks Don up with one hand, punches him with the other hand and Yeets him into the pool landing next to me. After a couple seconds, Don rises and with a bloody nose and says "I'm gonna beat your Ass one day" Ethan chuckles, flexes his pecs, and with an evil smile he says this: "Doubtful"
  25. BGryphon18

    Trick and Treat

    Hey guys, So I finished a story that's been sitting incomplete on my hard drive for the last couple years. A brief warning: it is dark and a little twisted but as it's meant to have a Halloween theme, it's not unexpected. This story evolved from a series of therapy writings I was doing while in treatment for severe depression and trauma. This story may not be for most so while I will appreciate any feedback, pleas make it constructive. Again, you've been warned this is not a "Happily Ever After" sort of tale... or maybe it could be depending on your point of view. I hope you enjoy and have a Happy Halloween! ***** Chapter 1 Halloween. The one day a year where magic seems much more tangible and attainable. Where anything can happen (and often does) in ways that should be unexplainable and yet are accepted as easily as dream logic. I was never a fan of Halloween, even as a kid. Sure, the free candy was nice, but it ranked just slightly above Valentine’s Day in terms of my enthusiasm because I just didn’t get it. This year, that changed. This year I realized the full scope of Halloween. The ancient power it held and how easy it was to tap into that power. This year, Halloween became my favorite holiday. Let me back things up just a bit for you. Proper introductions are important after all. My name is James and I’m what most people call a “good guy”. At least, that’s what I have heard from seemingly everyone lately. Trouble is though that I don’t seem to be good enough. Okay, maybe I should back things up just a bit more for you. A little over a year ago my first real romantic relationship ended. The guy I had been “seeing” for about 8 months told me that he was officially going to be with someone else. Someone younger than I was. Someone who was more outgoing and fun than I was. Someone that was better built than I was (my ex had as much a muscle fetish as I do, more on that later). Someone that he had been seeing the entire time we had been dating (though he refused to call it dating) and even though he said he still cared for me (downgraded from loved me, which he told me he did less than a month before breaking things off) and wanted to be in my life, he needed to follow his heart. Trouble is, I seriously doubt that his heart had anything to do with the matter, other than supplying enough blood to his dick… Anyway, in the months following the “break up” we had been trying to remain friends. I was trying at least, whereas he seemed to be phoning it in most of the time because, let’s face it, he had someone else to devote his time/life to and no one else really seems to matter in that situation. After a series of setups and disappointments by both of them, their constant playing with my emotions and making me question my sense of reality/history, this culminated in quite a severe mental breakdown: a major case of depression resulting in multiple suicide attempts telling myself I wasn’t good enough to keep living. After being hospitalized and attempting my best at treatment, I wasn’t “getting better” as quickly or in the ways he thought I should. Unfortunately, due to this and his own choices, recently he decided that I was no longer worth his time or trouble and he completely cut ties with me. I’m sure many of you are saying that I should have done that first and a long time ago. That I should have moved on, found someone better, written him off as one of the worst human beings on the planet and been done with it. I had more than one therapist tell me as much, or at least something akin to that fact, as well as many friends/family members tell me that I needed to simply forget about him and move on. If only the heart worked on a system of logic like that. My brain certainly did, and I kept telling myself all the things he had done that were clearly in the “con” column to try and give my own heart enough evidence to stop hurting. Alas, the heart is chaotic and ruled by something far stranger, more complex and far more precious than logic. I loved him. I loved him with all I had and I still do because real, true love is unconditional like that. That was enough in the “pro” column to outweigh anything else I could muster in opposition. Still, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt, betrayed, disappointed, angry, hell furious to the point of nearly feeling homicidal at both of them, but through all of that pain, I still love him. Anyway, slightly off track so let’s get back to the main part of this story. Throughout the last several months I have done my best to try and “get better”. To improve myself and to regain some semblance of normalcy after the trauma and continued hell that I was put through both by myself and the actions of others (not just my ex). Eventually I was able to learn how to put up enough barriers and walls to not feel like a raw nerve all the time and allow myself time to heal a bit, but let’s face it, wounds that pierce that deep never really heal. Eventually, I realized that I wasn’t going to be the person I was before. Too much of me had changed, too much had been irrevocably lost. I could be someone different, maybe even someone better, but I couldn’t ever get back to the place or the person I was either when I was with him or before. So, I did what I could to make myself feel better, to rebuild my life as it were and a large portion of that would next revolve around me rebuilding a “new” body. One of the things I shared with my ex was a desire to become as big and muscular as possible. I’m not talking cute fitness or “beach bodies” but real hulking muscle monsters. Those beasts of brawn at the top of the bodybuilding community where you part crowds like the Red Sea, and where limited range of motion is the goal. To get to the point where there was no doubt that we were serious meat heads and that we had no desire to slow down nor stop growing anytime soon… well ever really. With his encouragement and guidance, I was able to break through the last mental hurdles I had that were stopping me from actively pursuing that goal and started going to the gym. I had been giving myself no end of excuses for years but with him in my life I finally had enough confidence to put them all aside and start on the path of never-ending growth. I paid for a personal trainer, dedicated myself to it and I was fortunate to share the beginning of that journey with him and even though I stumbled with it for a while after our “break up” I have gotten back to it and have continued to grow and develop and improve myself physically which has helped in many ways to improve myself mentally. The only trouble I had though was that I still tie a lot of this muscle growth journey to him. I still recall our workouts together when I’m lifting, the meals we prepped and shared after a long workout, even when I was giving him his weekly injections. All in the pursuit of our mutual growth. I’m still trying to untangle the goals and desires of being massive from including him and have the focus be for me. However, knowing that he left me for someone bigger and better built than I was while initially highly damaging to me, has now provided plenty of motivation for my workouts. I was going to work my ass off to show him what he missed out on. I may not have been good enough before, but I would do whatever it took to outclass the guy he left me for and show them both what real muscle was! At least, that was the plan. Despite the fact that I had done all this work, changed my physique and was in much better shape and condition than I had ever been, I still was considered a “good guy” but not enough for anyone to want to date or be in a relationship with. Sure, I had many who wanted to fuck me, or be fucked by me, a single photo update on my online profile was enough to see that I had improved physically to be more desirable, but the couple of times I had met someone it was just a hormone release to them, or another sexual conquest and then they ghosted me. I was a good enough one-time disposable fuck toy, but not good enough to date. In my mind, it always came back to the voice that I wasn’t “good enough”. I wasn’t big enough, defined enough, handsome enough, so I did my best to focus that negative energy into my workouts. Given my pre-depression mindset of body dysmorphia for wanting to be a juggernaut of muscle and strength, this caused quite the feedback loop of pushing myself like a madman in the gym. Having all that fuel the fire of my workouts has no doubt been a benefit given my progress in the last few months even if it tends to scare off some people at the gym. Several friends I have lifted with commented that when they see the determination and focus on my face during a set, to them it came across as intimidating, aggressive and what one friend lovingly refers to as RBF (Resting Bitch Face). “Hey James, how have you been?” I jump and turn around to see Scott one machine down from me. “Oh, hey Scott, didn’t see you there. I’m good man, how’re you?” Normally I would say that even if I had seen him so as not to come across as a creeper, but I really hadn’t noticed him because when I lift, I am 100% focused on my form and my own body. All my concentration is in my muscles to ensure maximum engagement and results. I don’t scan the gym for whatever eye candy is there and ogle the guys showing off like so many do, despite Scott being seriously delicious eye candy. Plus, today he was in very different gym attire than what I was used to seeing him in (head to toe oversized sweats instead of a tight muscle tee and even tighter shorts that he normally wore) including a cap that obstructed his face so I honestly didn’t recognize it was him. “Not surprised. You’ve got better focus than almost anybody I’ve seen. I bet a riot could erupt and you wouldn’t know until you were done with your set!” “Probably. Came close to that the other day apparently. There was some issue with another member that had to be asked to leave and I had to ask what happened after all was said and done because I was doing a drop set and missed the whole thing! Besides, you look like you’re trying to avoid the paparazzi dressed like that! What’s new with you? Still prepping for that show in February?” Scott had planned and started doing prep three months ago for a show that took place last week but had to back out last minute due to other obligations. Scott had one of the best physiques I’ve ever seen in person coupled with a model level gorgeous face and a really nice, genuine personality. He was honestly as close to my ideal guy as possible which of course meant he was unavailable. Despite that letdown, he has taught me quite a bit about different exercises, plus helped me a bit with how to pose (which is nowhere near as easy as spectators believe). “Oh yeah, that was a bit of a mess I heard. Steph had to threaten to call the cops before he finally left.” “Yep. Which given the fact that I’m sure she could have kicked this guy’s ass by herself was merely a courtesy to him.” Steph was one of the employees at the gym. She is about 5’6 or so but better built and more conditioned than half of the guys who work out here. Couple that with a “take no shit” type of personality and she’s a force to be reckoned with! She will speak her mind even if it’s not in a professional way and is one of the funniest and friendliest people I know. She is not someone I would like to mess with though, even if I have a good 6” in height and 100 or so pounds on her. She’s small but she’s scrappy. “No doubt! I would not want to get on her bad side for sure! And no, not looking to avoid the paparazzi, I’m not that popular. Yeah in the midst of prep for it, hence the sweats. Time to up the cardio and it’s better to do cardio in sweats or heavy clothing as it traps the heat meaning you burn more calories. So how have you been? Haven’t seen you for a while.” Scott and I tended to lift at about the same time every day depending on our work schedules and had developed a rapport. Because I found him so easy to talk to, he inadvertently was one of those people that I had dumped my problems onto without consciously realizing it. The biggest of which happened to be my love life, or lack thereof, and all the things that had happened with Lee (my ex). He was one of the few people who helped keep me accountable and consistently going to the gym to help work through my issues and use the weights to better myself. Even though he was straight (which I found out after asking him out on an impulse, however he was extremely gracious and tactful in his response to my invitation) he was truly a nice guy and always had a nice word for me to help bolster my spirits. “Um, good, I guess. Been a rough few days at work but hanging in there as best I can. Have another ‘anniversary’ coming up which will be a challenge but somehow, I will make it through. And believe me, you’re more popular than you realize! I’ll admit to having the urge to be a paparazzi and sneak a few shots of you from time to time! I haven’t, but the urge is there. You’ve got a killer physique; one you’ve worked really hard developing and one that should be photographed and shown off.” One thing I’ve learned about most “straight” guys who are bodybuilders, if you stroke their ego enough, they tend to overlook the sexual inuendo and subtle flirting. “Ha!” he laughed and looked humble (yet another thing I found so attractive about him) “Maybe at a show, not any other time. But sorry to hear that you’re having a rough time. Well Halloween is coming up so that should help you right? Isn’t Tric doing some big Halloween party? You should get dressed up, go out, get drunk, have some fun. Take your mind off things for a night.” “You would think so right? I do actually have tentative plans with some friends to go to a party, but the anniversary is Halloween. Spent it with my ex last year post break-up to try and see how well we mesh as friends and he was the happiest I have ever seen him. The later it got, the drunker he got and more he went on about how great the other guy was and how happy he was in the relationship. Hard to sit through. Still, all I can do is take things one step at a time which right now means getting back to my workout and not letting a super stud like you distract me from my gains!” I laughed and took a quick sip from my shaker while I waited for his reply. He raised his hands in surrender with a grin forming on his face. “I wouldn’t dream of doing that! I need to get my ass on the stair climber anyway. Have a good workout man and I’ll catch you later!” He shook my hand before turning to leave. “Good luck climbing the Empire State Building!” I called after him grinning. He turned to smile back and then we both returned to our respective workouts. I finished up my chest workout a short while later having fully exhausted myself and burned through all my frustrations caused by my job that day. I managed to catch Scott's eye and wave as I walked out of the gym saying goodbye to the person at the desk. Once outside I patted down and searched in my pockets to find my keys. Realizing they weren’t there and most likely landed in my gym bag, I stopped at the back of my car setting the bag on the trunk to fish them out. Without warning, I was starting to sob digging around my bag. Despite every effort to the contrary, the memories of last Halloween were filling my mind and I was recalling the look of pure exultant joy on the face of the man that I saw my future with knowing he had already chosen another… “Excuse me?” I hear a voice from slightly behind me and turning around I was face to face with a middle-aged woman. Wiping my face quickly I did my best to put on a smile and “brave face”. “Yes?” I asked trying my best to look respectable and courteous despite wanting to run away to be alone. “I’m so sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you might be willing to help me with something. I brought this old chest to sell at the antique store here and I’m having some trouble getting it out of my car. Would you be so kind as to help me?” “Of course. Let me just put my bag in my car quick and I’ll be right there.” I smiled again and using the remote on my keys to unlock the doors, which I had finally located and extricated from the jungle of my gym bag, tossed the bag in the back seat and followed to her vehicle. “Thank you so much for this. I was counting on someone in the store being able to help me, but no one seems to be around and I’m in a bit of a hurry.” She did look slightly frazzled saying this and checked her watch to see the time. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy to help out.” She had a sizeable chest, at least a good 3 feet long and 2 feet wide secured with bungie cords into the trunk of her car. It had very intricate carvings all along it and despite looking extremely old, it was in almost immaculate condition. “This is beautiful.” I commented as I began undoing the bungie cords. “It’s a hope chest, right? My mom has one. Not nearly as detailed as this but about the same size.” “Yes. It belonged to my great aunt who recently passed away. I’m in charge of her estate and when some things didn’t sell at the auction and no one claimed them as inheritance, my only choice left was to sell them. For some reason this one didn’t sell at the auction even though the auctioneer was sure it would be one of the highest ticket items due to its condition. A friend suggested I bring it here.” Having been dragged to several auctions as a kid (and hating every minute of it) this was odd to me. Usually people will buy the strangest things when they can do so for pennies on the dollar of what they are actually worth. And this piece seemed highly valuable, so it was a shock to me that someone hadn’t snatched it up. I managed to pull the chest out easily enough given it was empty and she closed the trunk. “Actually, my friend suggested I try for that Antique Roadshow first and that maybe it would be end up being worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, but I don’t want to spend that much time and effort on it. I just need to get rid of it as I live out of state and can’t miss too much more work.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Loosing someone is never easy.” I puffed out as I walked trying my best to hold onto this thing. It was an awkward shape and size with no handles and I guess, without realizing it, I was trying to show off for this complete stranger by not having her help me carry it. Hearing about this woman’s family member dying shifted my mind immediately back to Lee as I walked toward the antique store next door to my gym. It was so strange that I only now realized it was exactly like a death that I was mourning but he was still alive. He was forever out of my life as though he died but he is still living and happy just not with me which somehow made it that much worse. “Thank you. To be honest, I never knew her that well so I’m not sure why she entrusted me to do all this, but here I am.” She shrugged at this and walked a bit ahead of me to hold open the door to the antique store. “You can just leave that here they said. Someone will take it to the back when we’re done filling out the paperwork after the appraisal. Thank you so much again for your help.” “You’re very welcome. I hope you have a good rest of your day and sorry again for your loss.” I smiled and turned to leave when something about the chest recaptured my attention. The woman was already moving deeper into the store to find the clerk or whomever to do the appraisal, but I was drawn back to this chest. It really was beautifully decorated and well maintained on the outside. Wonder what the inside looks like I thought and found myself kneeling to open it. It opened smoothly and was almost completely empty except for a single piece of paper. Reaching in to check it wasn’t something the woman might need that would accidently get lost with the chest, I found myself stunned at what I was looking at. The page looked and felt ancient. That really old thick paper or parchment that you see in movies or TV shows that is from the 1700’s or something. It didn’t feel delicate or fragile despite its apparent age. It was obviously torn from a book given the single jagged edge, but the rest of whatever book it came from was nowhere to be found. What was even more intriguing about this old page however was what was written on it: This page is conjured for a person whose life is woefully out of balance. Someone has caused you great pain for their own gain and this must be brought back to balance. Use the power of All Hallows Eve to call upon the forces needed to restore balance. If you truly believe, the instructions will appear. If not, this page will soon vanish and travel to the next person most in need of its services. I looked up with the overwhelming desire to laugh. This had to be a joke, right? Was there a camera somewhere, or was this planned just for me? It was too… specific. Well no more or less specific than most psychic readings in my opinion. Despite my skepticism, I always thought there was something out there beyond the tangible. Never really anything as mainstream as magic as that felt too easy, but I’ve had too many unexplainable things happen that I can’t help but believe there is some kind of force working in our lives that we haven’t identified… or maybe just forgot about/lost faith in? I looked around the store quickly to see if the woman had returned or was nearby to ask about this strange page and when I couldn’t locate her, assumed she went into a manager's office or back room and returned my gaze to the paper. There, below the first few lines, a new sentence appeared: No this is not a joke. That wasn’t there before. I know it wasn’t. Must have been some reaction to the sunlight after being planted in the dark chest. I remember reading about inks and dyes that act like “invisible” ink but require light or heat to be made visible again. Definitely a neat trick or novelty item, especially given that Halloween was so close. The only thing that could have made this even creepier would be… James I watched as my name was written onto the parchment. Not slowly appeared as though the ink were drying, but actually written out, letter by letter by some unseen hand. I dropped the paper in shock. Okay… either this is the best prank setup in history… Or it’s real. Like really real. Holy… or maybe unholy? There was no denying now that I believed this was some sort of magic but the question now thundering in my head was: what would be the cost of using it? I heard the sing song, high pitched voice of Rumpelstiltskin from Once Upon A Time in my head: “Magic always comes with a price dearie”. What exactly would happen? Restore my life to balance? That could mean any number of things. Without even really registering it, I had picked up the paper from the floor, folded it gently before putting it in my pocket then I was walking towards the back of the store to find the woman. She was talking to a man in what looked like a back-office area. “How much would you like for the chest?” I asked before really thinking through what I was asking. Why do I suddenly want to buy this woman’s hope chest? I didn’t have a use for it, didn’t really have a place for it in my apartment... but something inside told me I had to have it. “Oh!” She was shocked by this and said she’d be happy with $200. I told her I would be right back as there was an ATM at the end of the strip mall. The salesperson looked annoyed and I heard him say he could beat the price, offering to pay several hundred dollars more, but apparently the fact that no one from the store had helped her move the chest countered the lost income. Not to mention would save her time not having to fill out paperwork and wait for this guy before she could leave. I returned about 5 minutes later with the cash in hand and hauled off the chest I just brought inside back out to my car. Bringing over the bungie cords she had used and giving them to me as a ‘bonus with purchase”, she shook my hand and thanked me. I moved around to the driver’s door pulling out the folded page from my pocket as I went and got in the car. I had originally planned to go home and have my post workout meal but as I sat in the car looking at the unfolded page with the instructions for what to do magically appearing, I knew those plans had changed. Now, I have a couple stops to make.
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

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