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  1. Guest

    Jeff: Back freakshow

    Hi guys! I've been lately not writing much, but today I finally found inspiration, so here you have a new Jeff's story, hope you all like it Sorry for the grammar and English in general, I was too in a rush when writing and didn't have much time to correct anything, hope you've got no problems when reading it. ---------------------- The gym was pretty empty at that hour of the day, just a couple of girls at the back, Jeff and the owner. The back day had been long, but not hard enough, as usual. Jeff was feeling that he could be reaching a high in his growth, that his organism could have a top and he could be reaching it. But he was wrong… his muscle anxiety always led him to think he wasn’t growing, even though the weights said the contrary: a pound per week. Yeah, some of you might think it’s not “that much”, but take into account it was a perfectly clean pound of muscle, not an ounce of fat, just raw muscle, pure, perfect, shredded beef on top of more shredded beef, the dream of every bodybuilder. But such a hard work for any other bodybuilder was so simple for him, so easy to accomplish, that it led him to think he was stuck. But he really wasn’t, and he knew it. And that though always led him to push harder, just the same way it was making him push harder again. He was seated in the lat pull down machine, and looked at the weights on it. 250lbs. “Fuck, I need to add more”. He had already managed a way to add more weights to the machine, but the rack was at the max, it couldn’t be added anymore, so he looked around to get new ideas. He saw a thick bar that could be attached to the upper weight in the rack. Stood up to go and take it, attached it firmly to the rack and went to get some weights. He turned back to go to the plates station and found a guy getting one of the 50lbs plates. There were just 6 of them, and Jeff needed them all. - Hi bud. Do you mind getting two 25lbs plates and let me use that one? The other guy heard that coming from his back. Looked at the station and saw that there were other 5 plates. He started to turn back answering: - But, there are other free plates… And when he finally turned and saw Jeff, he got frozen. Jeff always provoked the same reaction in people, he was used to it, though it still bothered him, but this time he felt funny about it. Martin was one of those guys who used weights to try to improve his self esteem. In the last two years he had made a huge improvement, going from a just 150lb average guy to a hunky thick 210lb almost-bodybuilder. He had managed to meet a lot of thick guys, but none of them the big he needed, but this new guy he had never seen, this freaky packed what? 300? 400? lbs monster standing in front of him was his deepest dream come true. But there were two things that disturbed him especially. Why the hell was he fully dressed from head to toe? And what happened to his face? He was dramatically sunken, as if the guy were a comp bodybuilder in the freakiest condition, but with his size he was obviously off season. He tried to imagine how he would look like when cut, and hoped his face wouldn’t get more sunken, if not he would look really weird. Martin had always been a huge fan of competitions, where the guys were always in the most astounding and freaky condition, and he started fantasizing about this freak in two or three months, when he had already dried out, and get perfectly clean for competition. He started to tremble with the idea, he had to manage to keep in touch with him and follow his progress, especially his cutting, until he became the freakiest shredded bodybuilder, then cheer him up in the audience when competing, encouraging him to flex harder and show more, and more, and more… - Hey, are you ok? Jeff woke him up from his daydream fantasy, and went back to reality, an already amazing one, with that beast in front of him. - Yeah sorry… err… but there are more plates available – Martin replied. - I know bud, but I was looking forward to use all of them – Jeff said. - Mmmm… errr… ok – he resigned and gave Jeff the plate. “What the hell? 300lbs? What for? Well maybe he’s going to switch to legs”. - Thanks bud, my back is going to be very grateful to you – Jeff smiled, winked at him and went back to the lat machine. “No way”, Martin didn’t think he had listened properly, but then he saw Jeff arriving to the machine and starting to put the plates into a bar attached to the upper weight of the rack. “What the fuck…?” Jeff seated in the bench, grabbed the bar from the widest positions and pulled down just a bit, to check if the weight was enough. “Mpppffff”, he had to do a HUGE effort to move it just one inch down. He loved that feeling, and focused on it. First his upper lats had started bulging, thickening under the sweat jacket, he could feel the fibers contracting, slowly at first, then with a huge contraction managed to move the gigantic weight one inch up. “Awwww yeah, perfect weight, now it’s time to grow Jeff”, he said to himself and got ready for the pull. He repeated the operation, but at a full effort. His upper lats started to thicken doing the first effort to move the weight. He felt them pressing against the jacket sides fabric and enjoyed the caress of it against his raw muscles. He went down pulling, now time for his lower lat to go helping. He felt the fibers twitching under his skin, pulling up from the tendons, concentrated to move the astounding weight. His lats started to burn, as if it was hell under the fabric, but he went on. When the fibers had contracted to the max, they started to grow thick, pressing away the jacket, so much the seams started to burst. “Oh fuck, I was missing this fucking feeling so much”. He was about to get high on the growth feeling, and pushed a bit harder. “Grrrrrrrrrrrr”, he pulled down some inches more, making the lats hurt as he had never felt them hurt. He was sure a million fibers were breaking apart from the effort, but he also knew this was what he needed to grow, so he went more and more, inch by inch pulling down, feeling his lats separate from the spine, sweating like a fountain under the jacket, until he reached the lowest and lowered the weight to its position, slowly, slowly, enjoying the burnt of his back, until he finally left it at the bottom of the rack. “Hell yeah, that’s it!!!” CLANCKKKKKKKKKKKK A huge loud sound alarmed him, he turned back to see what had happened, and saw Martin who was staring at him, mouth open, with one 25lbs plate laying at his feet. He was expecting to make the guy freak out, so now that he had managed to, he smiled satisfied at him, and finally got high on his workout. “Now the fun starts”. Martin couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. He had seen dozens of beasts and bull-like bodybuilders move incredible weights, but he had NEVER seen a guy pull 550lbs down in a perfect concentrated movement. He was feeling nervous, freaked out, horned, amazed, all at the same time, not sure if all that was real. - Hey bud, are you ok? You seem sick. – Jeff asked. - How… was that… possible? – Martin stuttered, not afraid of showing that he couldn’t believe it. That was Jeff’s fuel to go on working out, and the initial insecurity about if he was stuck or not, transformed into a cocky self confidence that he was the true beast he was normally feeling. - Well bud, you have to push hard if you want to grow – Jeff replied. - But… fuck 550lbs? I had never seen that before – Martin was obviously horny, with a huge bulge in his shorts, which Jeff noticed immediately. - Well bud this is only going to get better – Jeff said, while looking at his bulge. Martin felt embarrassed “Fuck, he’s noticed”. He was expecting this guy to come to him and beat him, but instead of that he stood up and started to take his jacket off. He heard him unzip the zipper and left it fall down. What Martin saw made him fall back to the bench that was right behind him. “No no, it’s not possible”, his mind was blurring with the insane sight of that back. The first impossible thing he noticed was the traps insertions in Jeff’s skull. The two slabs of muscle run from the midsection of his back up up up to the neck, slowly narrowing until they reached the base of the skull, inserting in it forming a perfect cut along them, and vanishing with the bones in his head. But the freakiest thing of those traps was not the insertion, but the insane SHREDDEDNESS of them. The bulky off season monster he had thought Jeff was, in fact was an insane, obscene and grotesquely shredded up muscle monster. The trap fibers were so clearly visible that he looked that one of those anatomy charts where the muscles are exposed to see how the fibers run from one side of the trap to the opposite side. But they were not only perfectly visible, but freaky twitching one above the others. It was so obvious that the muscle was so overdeveloped that the fibers could not have a normal position and alignment, but they were fighting each other to have a room in that freaky body, looking like small snakes placed in the back of that monster. But the traps were so overdeveloped they looked as if they were already fully flexed, though Jeff was fully relaxed. The thickness of them was about 8 inches, the whole set of fibers looking as if they had been attached to the back, perfectly cut, and forming an insane valley in the spine, both traps so freaky thick and so freaky separate that they looked like the separations between sets of abs, but 5 or 6 times the size of the most developed abs Martin had ever seen. Martin’s cock was the hardest it had ever been in his life, when that living dream seated and grabbed the bar again. The simplest movement made those traps move as if they were alive. When Jeff placed his hands in the bar, the traps moved towards the center of the spine, getting attached again. He knew he was being observed, so he decided to do his own show. He did a quick movement with his shoulders and made the traps separate again, showing a perfect muscle control over them. He did this a couple of times more enjoying the movement of his trap muscles over his freaky back. Martin was not able to believe this. He felt dizzy a couple of times during that freaky display of muscle control, but he was not able to take his eyes off him. It was his deepest dream, but multiplied by 10, and he wasn’t going to let his mind say no to that. He was forcing himself to go on watching it, even if that could cause him brain damage. Jeff did a second show, making another quick movement with this right shoulder, making his right trap bulge a bit more, and relaxing it quickly, making the trap relax again, as if doing a quick bounce of it. He explored this new movement and did it again, with the same right shoulder, and felt the weight of the trap moving up and down. Then he did the same with the left shoulder, feeling the movement of the left trap. He loved this new muscle control and hit it for Martin a bit more, doing a freaky TRAP BOUNCING. Right, left, right, left. Martin was fully wet in his pants, his cock had already popped out of his short and was leaking precum all over the fabric. That trap bouncing he had just witnessed was the freakiest thing ever, and his cock was about to explode, but he was so mesmerized with the sight that he could not even manage to jack if off. Jeff went on with the freaky show, mixing the first shoulder movement with a quick shrug of the trap, making the muscles go up and down alternatively along the spine, as if they could squeeze whatever you could stick in there. But he didn’t stop there, he grabbed the bar and pulled it down to the middle, moving again the freaky 550bs weights in the rack and the bar. The lats literally EXPLODED, fighting with the traps in size and definition. They were other 8 inches thick, perfectly cut in the border with the traps, and freaky ridge-like in the insertions along the spine. The fibers attaching the whole muscle to the bone tendons were suffering an immense pain, and Jeff could feel that, but he knew his back could resist everything and he wanted to push his show and his growth a bit further. The lat fibers run painfully from the outer sides of the back right to the middle of it. Some of them broke apart, he could feel them breaking, but he could also feel them regenerating in seconds, making the fiber stronger than before, thicker, leaner, more powerful. He crunched the weights down a bit more doing the same with other hundreds of fibers, feeling the death and resurrection of the fibers once and again. Martin was about to faint. He had witnessed how Jeff’s lats had grown one inch thicker during the last crunch, and it was pretty clear it was not new blood on the muscle, but pure raw lean fibers emerging from nowhere. The teres muscles popped out like hell in the back, as if they were two rocks emerging from under the rest of the muscles. He managed to move the right side of the bar down, then the left, and at the same time moving them forward and backwards, making the whole set of traps and lats move up and down, inwards and outwards, jerking and invisible cock inside of them. The shoulders were an insane mass of fibers. The different parts of the muscles were practically indistinguishable, since you could not notice which cuts were the separation between the delts parts, and which one were just separations between fibers. The only visible clear cuts were the deep deep deep cut between the delt and the trap, and he cut between the delt and the teres. Although the whole back was so freaky pumped, and freaky shredded, Martin could not focus in a single muscle. His eyes moved rapidly from one side to another, his heartbeat was at his max, at the edge of a heart attack, his head ached terribly, his cock hurting like hell. He was living a body orgasm, not cumming, not feeling the orgasm burn itself in his cock, but his whole body was reacting in the same way. He stuck his eyes in the jerk-like movement of the trap and lat muscles of that freaky back, and a freaky weird idea got into his mind. Without being able to fight it back, he started walking towards Jeff, like a zombie, controlled by the mesmerizing movement of those back muscles. His cock was fully out, his pants still on but suffering a huge pressure from his cock. He removed them and started walking almost naked towards that beast-like back. He didn’t consider that back part of a human (or barely human) being, but an independent being, a living muscle being calling him out to fuck it. He stopped inches away from that freaky back, full of muscles moving under a thin almost inexistent skin. From that distance he could even see more clearly the insertions, the freaky fibers covering that grotesque body. The heat that body was irradiating was making him sweat. Jeff’s body itself was sweating gallons, thick drops falling from the neck to the floor, running all along that god-like back, tracing the cuts in the traps and lats, surrounding the spine bones forming big bumps in the middle of the back, tracing the ridge-like xmas tree the lower lat had formed in Jeff’s back. He placed his hands in the back, in the intersection between the teres, traps and lats and felt about to die. His mind went wild, high as ever in his life, feeling the freaky bulges moving under his hands. Jeff felt Martin’s hands and finally felt satistifed. The touch of that mesmerized, hypnotized worshipper was his next level of fuel for his muscle growth addiction. The focused on the moving of his individual muscles and changed the way the moved under the skin, doing new and quick movements in this elbows, shoulders, even his spine, making the freaky dance of back muscles go a level up. Martin cock was just an inch away from the lover back muscles, dripping huge drops of precum, irradiating the same heat as Jeff’s back. The feeling of the new muscle movements under his hands made his cock suffer a huge spasm, moving up three inches, and in the way back landing on the deep cave the lower back muscles formed in Jeff’s back. Jeff felt it and, immediately crunched those lower fibers, catching Martin’s cock and not letting him take it away. Martin felt a new rush in his body. After having been at the edge of fainting when touching the back with his hands, he suffered a huge acceleration of his heart rate when his cock got caught in that freaky back. He looked down at it, and clearly saw how the surrounding fibers contracted against his cock head, grinding it and giving it a soft nice and quick jerk. His cock spasmed again, and spurted a huge drop of pre, thick globules of precum running down Jeff’s back. Jeff enjoyed the feeling of the precum running down his muscles, and took him to a next horniness level. He started to twitch his back, and flex and relax his muscles, once and again, once and again. Martin noticed new movements around his cock, and saw how Jeff’s muscles were making his cock go up along the freaky muscle valley of his back. The walls of that valley were full of fibers, some of them contracted harder than the others, making the movement be like fucking a real ass hole, the harder fibers grinding his cock hard, and the precum Martin was spurting being used as a natural lube for this back-fucking dream. Jeff went on engorging that cock with his back muscles, up up up. Martin was a bit taller than Jeff, but even so he started being lifted off the ground, so he had to place his feel in Jeff’s knees to be able to give better thrusts. Jeff went lifting him up and up, until Martin’s cock was inserted all along the trap muscles. Martin was 8in hung, but today his cock was perfectly 10 or 11 inches long, and thicker than ever. His balls were landing in the xmas tree of the lower back. Without a word, Martin started pumping his cock into Jeff’s trap muscles. Back and forth, once and again. Each thrust was a living heaven, feeling the freaky ridges the trap fibers were forming in the valley. Jeff left the bar, letting the weights fall loudly into the ground. But the muscles didn’t relax an inch. They were even harder than before. He used his free hands to perform the freakiest rear double bicep any human being had ever witnessed. Both peaks rose like two mountains in front of Martin’s face. He placed his hands on top of them, feeling them as the hardest material ever made. The bicep peaks were so fucking splitted he could stick his fingers in between, and so he did. Martin was on the edge since he first put his cock in Jeff’s back, but this was too much. He thrusted his hips faster, fucking Jeff’s traps in a total frenzy. He run his fingers along the cuts of the bicep and the tricep, the other hand running the cuts of traps and lats, using the index finger, then the thumb, feeling every ridge in that freaky body. Another cock thrust, another spasm running his whole body. Martin was in a true muscle frenzy, all he could do was fuck, squeeze, trace, fuck again, squeeze more, trace again. His head was about to explode, he felt a huge rush along his cock, he was about to cum, but he stopped. His ass hole trembled in pleasure, his cock erupted a thick huge shot of precum, and his hands went on feeling the most obscene and grotesque work of muscle art. He took a last look at that back in front of him, from the neck to the lower back: huge immense thick traps, fill with precum and his own cock; freaky delts emerging from under the back muscles; two teres muscles like two big eyes looking at him; the lats not looking like a muscle but like a huge set of strings emerging from the spine and landing in the sides of the back. The whole view was like a dream or a nightmare, he couldn’t say, but he was enjoying it, and he let himself go. He thrusted more, faster, faster. Jeff was doing his own, pumping his back more, moving his muscles non stop, his own cock about to erupt. Martin felt the final rush and orgasm, coming from his head down, grunting, feeling Jeff’s back muscles, and then the orgasm came. - OHHHH YOU FUCKING MONSTEEERRRRRRRRRRRR, AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHH The scream filled the whole gym. The huge spurts of cum landed in Jeff’s neck, throwing drops everywhere. Martin erupted 10 more times, filling Jeff’s back with hot cum, running down until they dropped in the floor. Martin felt Jeff’s body contract like hell once again, transforming into the freakiest bunch of muscle fibers ever, and then he heard Jeff’s orgasm. - AW FUCK TAKE THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Huge spurts of cum came from Jeff’s cock, landing in Martin’s face. Once he finished cumming, Martin felt he was going to faint, and so he did. Last thing he saw was the back of his dreams going away from him, as he fell down the bench to the ground. He woke up with a huge headache, every heartbeat pounding in his head. “Oh my god, what a dream…”. He was pretty sure it had all been just a dream, the best dream he had ever had, but just that. And then he opened his eyes, and saw that sunken face, with cum drops all over, looking at him without believing what had happened, attached to the freaky body he had seen in his dream, and he realized that it had been real. He heard Jeff saying: - Where the fuck have you been my whole life?
  2. Chapter One "Bonjour, my dear lieutenant, and who do we have joining us today?" As Captain de Ceredigion strode into Musketeer HQ in the year 1636, he found his trusted deputy, Lieutenant D'Artangan nearly buried in paper work, and had to supress a chuckle when a hand emerged holding a sheet of paper which was handed to the Captain with a muffled "Just the one, sir, a strange lad, about the same age as me, says he comes from Brittany, but, well, he doesn't seem to know much about the place!" As the Captain read the sheet of paper, he frowned and sighed "Oh, not another one" and said "That's because, he's English. I mean at least the Duke of Buckingham put some effort into my name. Henry becomes Henri, Cardigan becomes de Ceredigion, I mean, what sort of disguise is Greffier de Cantium anyway? They might as well just called him "A Clerk from the county of Kent". Oh well, I'd better go and see him!" and with that bade his lieutenant goodbye who offered a word of advice. "Be careful with him, he's rather clumsy!" *** "Atten-shun!" As the Captain left the headquarters into the bright spring sunshine, all his worst fears were realised, there before was a man, about the same size as Aramis and, if indeed such a thing was possible, even thinner than Aramis. As the cadet stood to attention, his baldric fell down around his feet and with a panicked "Sorry, sir" he replaced the baldric, only for it to fall down again. "Cadet" said the Captain, "would I be right in assuming that you are new in Paris?" The cadet nodded and as he did the captain sighed "That baldric is a good two sizes too large for you, you're nothing like the size of Athos and certainly no Porthos. Still, let's go through some basic drill" and as the Captain commanded "Cadet, march" and drilled the cadet through his paces, he and his alter ego, the Ultimate Musketeer, mused on the new recruit. "Gad, if I had not had seen it with your own eyes, I would never believe it in a million years. All we need is a good breeze and he'd blow away all that back to England!" "True, although why on earth, we need another English Musketeer I cannot say. One's enough, surely!" "Aye, perhaps Charles is worried that you've become too French!" "If that was the case, kindly explain why he has a French wife? Surely me becoming French is a good thing?" "To the point of marrying a French woman, having two French children, becoming captain of the French Royal Guard and being a hero to boot!" "Point taken" smiled Henri as he called the recruit to a halt and was amazed to see the young lad, puffing and panting. "But that wasn't even half a league!" he said to which the recuit panted "Sorry, sir, I am not used to all this marching!" Just as Henri was about to declare this new recruit unfit for service, Athos came haring around the corner, came to a screeching halt, saluted and panted "Captain, find the Ultimate Musketeer, and quickly, the Armoury had caught fire!" As Henri nodded his understand, he dismissed the recruit and calmly walked inside headquarters, once there he ducked into the tunnel that led outside the garrison, dived behind a bush and a moment later the Ultimate Musketeer could be seen runing along the banks of the Seine, faster than a horse to the now well ablaze Armoury where Aramis and Porthos were keeping the gathered crowds safe. As the Musketeer arrived, Porthos moaned with desire, saluted and moaned "There's twenty barrels of gunpowder in there, if it should blow" and then whispered "like my manhood at your sight!" to which the Musketeer declared "Fear not, I am here to help" and was about to dive into the Seine when, as if by magic, the river suddenly froze for a good five hundred pied in both directions. As the Musketeer and Porthos looked at each other, Porthos whispered "Since when could you freeze rivers just by looking at it?", the Musketeer whispered "I can't" as suddenly the river seemed to rise up into the air in front of them. It then hovered over the armoury and then fell, throwing Porthos and Aramis to the ground, the solid river suddenly exploded and rain poured down, putting out the fire, saving Paris and leaving the Musketeer at a complete and utter loss as to what had happened. "Glad to be of assistance" declared a voice above them and as Porthos, Aramis and the Musketeer looked upwards, the Musketeer gasped, Aramis crossed himself and Porthos moaned as he spilled his seed, for there, standing upright with nothing to support him was a man, dressed in an almost blue outfit with a fleur de lys on his chest in bright yellow who nodded and then flew off, like an eagle, away from the scene. "Who, in the name of His Majesty was that?" asked the Musketeer and Aramis in unison, following the flight of the man "I don't know" whispered Porthos, "but if I suck him and spill my seed into you, would you be upset?"
  3. QuoteTheRaven

    Ejaaz gets Jacked Up (Finished)

    QUARY AND THE MUSCLE FAGS OF KURAI by Quote the Raven (c) JANUARY 2021 Of Quarium, all that could be shared I put forward in an ode. Chapter 1 - Desert (Sahra’) In April each year, Kurai temperatures climb to ninety degrees. They stay there and higher for half a year. - The Non-Arabs’ Guide to Kurai. A hollow concrete form in the center of the Narra al Maktoun Solar Farm 43 kilometers south of Kurai City in Kurai fills a structural role — spacing or reinforcement or something similar. The form sits invisibly amongst hundreds of acres of concrete footings and shiny black glass regiments in an otherwise barren landscape. Ejaaz Eud’laat does not know the purpose of the form, only that he has purposefully found it to shelter in its shaded interior. He swelters as he tapes reflective foil sheets to two cement openings at either end, working wall-to-wall, end-to-end, eight layers thick. The sheets block him in making it more suffocating, stifling and hot than this early July day already is. When the changes start though, the layered separation will not increase the heat, but will do the opposite and enable and protect cold. As Ejaaz endeavors at the curtaining, nerves unsteady him. They tremor his hands and intensely roil his gut. But desire pushes coveting in his veins so extreme that the rhythm of his heart pumping almost throbs aloud the needing of his efforts. He talks to himself. “You’ve done this before, Ejaaz. You’ll do this again. You can do it. You will.” When the layers of sheeting hang completed, he thinks, Get out of these clothes. Robes and keffiyeh that served his former obesity swamp off roomily and effortlessly from his coiled composition — a composition that now only strictly-dieted, intense university cricket or endurance athletics or champion swimming would have forged. He’s never done such training, though, has he. He never went for sport, fuck it, some did, but why could he never have taken to it. He does see now and feel now so palpably how worth it it would have been. He’s never put in years of those kinds of workouts — any fucking kind actually — or that disciplined, necessarily regimented, eating — The eating of the cast iron, forged iron will. He’s never cleaved himself to the half decade that would have forged this goddish muscly whippetness. Oh fuck it up, if only he had fucking done exactly that, what a jack he would have been all along, more so month by month, year by year. With the layers of sheeting and the concrete’s one-foot thickness, the space is dark now, it steams with heat. That’s too be expected — he resists the temptation to doubt how it will work. He drips with boiled sheens of fluid. The way he’s prepared the space, the change to the temperature will surely happen — won’t take long. He knows he knows that. Perspiration almost flows from his so recently chiseled jaw and rolls down his so new hard flat brown front. He takes a giant draft of ionized water. It really is the perfect environment now that it’s sealed off — what is to happen in his body will make it work — hard, foot-thick muffling and insulating walls, ultimately remote, and undiscoverable. And just how fucking remote it is, that is the key really — the ultimate reason for choosing here... oh yeah if he could be a betting man why wouldn’t he put money on that. But, fuck, he’s betting much more than money isn’t he anyway. His eyes fall to this body and he is greedy with it. It is indescribably beautiful so shredded and hard and chiseledly trim. Fuck yeah. He knows this is just the start. His eyes go also to his briefs. A snicker disrespects the member there. You’re good, baby, you really are, he thinks, I’ve been ok with you, have made you work, but really, you’re still so nothing. You’ll preen so much more, won’t you baby. Both you and muscle, when you’re both big fuck bold boys, I’ll preen you hard won’t I, fucks, you are both just part of what I’m meant for. Prior use has him to this result — improved from so pitiful, so grossly worse than average, so ignorable or really contemptible — the photo of fucking contemptible — doughy, mr full-on gigantic fat load, obese as a fucking fuck — just twenty-one days ago at 20 years old. Doses have changed him so much already haven’t they though? For sure, but changed him only because of his enduring their evil heinousness, uggghh — abiding the fucking heinous torturing violating heinousness — Allah dammit — oh well, he’s done it now — three times — but he won’t stop now — can only dream now to do it over and over and over and over and over and over again. He mouths, “I. HaVE. to.” He crouches into the wall. Remote, concrete-reduced warmth kisses the hard little sweet curvy sweat ass he has cheated himself to now. He wants it fucked right now, but thinks, Thank you. His ass is so perfectly bubbly, little, rock hard.... round. Ohh. It’s so Hard. Unnh. The location gives desolation — his torture chamber will be effectively and brutally unhearable. This jury-rigged, just-passable buffer will grow to be an ample deep freeze chamber against the outside heat, and will let cold accumulate and oh so drive the compound to work. “Fuck you,” he enunciates, knotted inside.“Fuck the fuck.” Bad language has emerged in him destroying what he was. Self-abuse, even just three doses worth, have rape-assaulted him, roughened him, made it so dirty words vulgarize the changing him — oh how they overthrow his twenty years of prissy, pussy, repressive, Arab-old-lady dictated, fucking mores. Urges ejaculate all over that fucked submissiveness, don’t they? His upper lip curls back from his teeth and his breath makes an exhaling snarl. He reaches out now and eases a vial from a cooler. “Fucker!” he spits. It is this vessel’s transforming compound that births the emerging man’s crudities. Tilting the vial, its liquid shifts between silver, green, gold, and blue. Saliva attempts to gather in his mouth, but his pouty lips crack from heat, and from both the charge and the fears. Opening it, the tube puffs a vapor cloud — a shimmering fog. “Slut,” he seethes, “I hate you,” but also he adds, “I fucking worship you, baby.” He’s so incredibly tempted to snort the Quarium, right then and there, and just have it over, just have it so that he feels...feeeEeeEeels it all here and now — euphoria, greatness, grandeur — everything. But he exerts every last tiny kernel of his too limited willpower — snorting isn’t the way. He needs what’s harder but so much more. So, instead, a syringe draws up the liquid beneath the mist. The liquid is called Quarium. “It’s go time. It is. Now is the time to go. To say go. To do it. Please! Come On. It’s go go go go go fucking go gotime to go.” The dose, Quarium loaded all behind the needle, threatens now and he points the ministration at his so alien taut trim crushingly desirable obliqued side, determined to survive and thrive, but not able to escape feeling totally in danger. He’s engaging in absolute self-deceit when he says, “This is completely safe and easy, Ejj!” What, without exaggeration, would be described as unlimited fear jarringly jitters his hand as he attempts entry and the needle jabs a slashing plunge, nothing that remotely approximates a calm, controlled pin. Nearly no part of Ejaaz’s conscious brain can register anything but anxious terror at this moment. The insertion tolerates the gross inaccuracy of his stab though and offers a still acceptable option for pushing in the dose. Just be fucking brave and do it, dammit, Ejaaz!! a shred of his will finally proffers, penetrating into the haze of his alarm. A workable command, his fingers, almost on auto-pilot, squeeze; rivulets thread continuous cold virulence into his flesh. “Yess,” he hopes to say, but more rawly what comes out is “NOOOoOOOoOoOOO!” — so emotional, so afraid at what he knows in an instant is to be intolerable excruciation. The green-silver squelches in, indifferent to any feeling — particularly the rising pulsing fear. The serum, loosened, oozes. It is irretrievable. The poison takes occupation, assumes its subject territory. Ejaaz clenches.... resistance the definition of fucking futility though. Like his prior uses, it’s possible to feel the liquid chill consuming his veins, spilling everywhere through his flesh, ignoring humanity. The blood’s additive pushes advancements depravedly into his body, pillaging, cold-raping, violating progressive landgrabs as it goes. Panic pushes Ejaaz’s stomach into his throat. Ejaaz prays if it would just spew from his mouth, oh, if only that would possibly carry this bottomless fucking fear and destruction from his body. “Oh AllAH. FUCK the great god Quarium!” he shouts. And then, because his brain is heavy already, he slurs, “You NASTY naStY nassttyt..... fu..fu...fuck-devil...” From the wall, he lists forward and then falls forward. The ripped trim body that is so very very hot — perfect long toned curved legs, cinched ripped waist, jockey shoulders, and rocking swimsuit-model arms, and all still new to him — languors out ravishingly as he smothers into the pillow of the thermic insulating sleeping bag prepared there. A deepening ice age gradually and progressively submerges him, annexing his sylvan flesh, his wiry, whippety torso and limbs, his blood, his bones, his genitals — all that had been obese, fetid, abhorrent just weeks ago. Unconsciousness claims him. **** Twenty hours pass. If unconsciousness cleft the ice shelf of his mind from the main and sank it in North Sea waters, the berg breaching the surface reawakens him. Insulated by foiled layers at the tunnels opening and the sleeping bag, while Ejaaz is gone from this world, his temperature and that in his crafted space dropped to below 0C/32F degrees. In the chamber, rime coats walls and ceiling and everything, even the foiled barrier. It’s a cold dark freezer of isolation — extreme to a degree far eclipsing even any previous shot. Brutally bare except for orange underwear, Ejaaz’s raw skinned body prostrates a heartbreaking, snowstormed, make-model purple corpse — hipbones and ribs and solidified sinews. He’s so abominalized he’s almost beyond aching — but he aches, aches gravitationally. Hoar glazes his skin and the cloth over his tantalizing pubes. Fog streams in and out of his ajar mouth. Invisible Kelvinic blades mutilate his striated flesh in the shoveling thousands. Daggering vectors spear viciously into his drop-dead skull. He can’t move, he’s so ice-tombed. “Noooo,” he whimpers, “enshallah, pleahhe.” Then he gathers his objections and yaps, “No” — A sound agonized and croaky struggles out because his vocal chords both harden in one position and because hour after hour of comatose screaming have sanded them raw. His sublime jaw mainly freezes open in place. Outside, the high unchallenged sun flames. Sand scorches about the foundations of al Maktoum, baked worse than a kiln. Concrete and steel footings sizzle. Four square miles of black glass horde sunlight then dazzle it back into the sky. How can it be so inhospitably hot when the nondescript concrete form hidden in the middle of it all shudders with the nihilation of outer space. In the tunnel, it is Quarium in Ejaaz that generates endothermic extremes, terraforming the concrete to match the exterior of McMurdo Antarctic Scientific Base upon a months-long night. Unabated by searing heat and injected instead of sniffed, Quarium molecules failed to bind to Ejaaz’s cell receptors, instead entering into his cells. Destiny now unfolds. If instead there were heat — i.e., baking direct Arabian sun — and if sniffed, it would be different. In that situation, Ejaaz’s cells’ receptors would have received the Quarium and bonded, then caused a cloning of cells to explode. A warm environment causes Quarium to make fleeting Shadowcells — desirable musculoskeletal replicas. They flourish in ratios of up to two dozen or more for each native cell. With sniffing and heat, before a Quarium user’s eyes, an Arab guy’s sweaty, perspiring body expands in girth and power with growth. Shadowcells in him proliferate as uncontrollably promiscuous as a nation’s worth of bare-assed bubbly-butted submariners occupying every square inch of a sirening 1960s erotic cartoon steamy island poster. The unbridledness of the cells’ replication rams guys’ growth — explodes them into objects of lust — sizeable, full, meaty, snorting, dripping things, like massive studs, like big bull cocks, like brimming djinns — full of libido and power — cut, jacked, huge. It happens in proportion to the Quarium and the thermic source and the guy. With extreme heat and Quarium molecules, any poxy loser becomes gorgeously muscular. Cells mass and magnificate him. They hyper masculinize him — the new found grodiness rages in a metamorphosed rippling gay or bi or even straight fagbeast who has hijacked all the trappings of ultra bodybuilding, porning masculinity while the baking heat persists. But the external heat always abates eventually and the circulatory system’s pace recalibrates, and the shadow cells subside upon loss of energy. So one ought understand: an inhaled administration of Quarium (misted up one’s nose) when done in great heat expands and then subsides. Orgasmic flexing swells into exquisite being, parades conquering raunchy triumphancy, narcisses and exhibits erectionally, ejaculates climaxingly, and then disappears as the dissipation and reabsorption of shadow cells unfold. Contemplate, a wimpy faggot sniffing Quarium with some loser friends in the dazzling Arab summer morning. See their unworked little bodies bulk up and grow fantastic before their lechery eyes. Imagine them narcissistically swept into the lording of the gigantic bodies they receive, ostentatiously wearing bikinis cut so low and so tight that they more than show off what they’ve drugged for themselves, that it reveals every aspect of what they have done on purpose — the hugening of their mountainous chests, bouldering of monumental shoulders, crowding of climbing backs and traps, rising of their incredible biceps, expansion of their enormous curving asses, and the unbelievably thick legs that stage behind awesomely transformed barely-clothed-over himbo dicks and balls. They earthquake their strength and vitality, oozing the enthrallment to feel such vast beef across their bodies, weighting them down, mountaining them up, widening them like the Ranhad T’maad span, arching them toward the sky from the great asses they have, planting them in the ground with their bridge truncheons of legs, expanding torsorally with monolithicality. They feel all these things for every minute of the Sun’s journey across the sky. And then shift to consider the late day sinking disappearance of the sun, the hot blast easing, the moisture-sparse air of an arid land not retaining the heat it has gained. Envision the gentle cooling from that. And, in conjunction, conjure the thought of thumping heart rates that release orgasms the kind of which these fuck-nothings would piss just to realize existed. They would spuge-detonate after eight or thirteen hours of oversized, so-bare-they’re-more-vulgar-than-naked raunchy foreplay. Afterward, their cumming-eased heart-rates back down from porn-horny pace. Understand that a diminished, fever-broken bloodflow brings less energy to cells, tires the hosts of those blood cells, has them doze, and know then that shadow cells in the temporary Mr. Olympians say goodbye. Over hours, the cells aerobate until a quarter day later, neither the Quarium, nor anything the Quarium dingle-servingly wrought in the sniff-poxy-pansies exists any longer. Individuals who for soul-joying hours ass-humped as gluttonous gargantuans, muscling more extremely than Grimes or Kai Greene or baby Forslin or Marcello, revert to exactly the fagstupid putrid nothing fucks they had been. But, that is not Ejaaz here, that is not him now. ———————
  4. Hola vivo al sur de Madrid y me gustaría encontrar a alguien que me pueda guiar haciendo mis primeros ciclos. Me gustaría dar el paso y transformar mi cuerpo, pero me da miedo porque no sabría hacerlo de manera segura.
  5. Guest

    Jeff: Muscle Frenzy

    Hi guys, here’s another chapter of Jeff. This time a heavy chest workout with a hot muscle frenzy in the middle Hope u like it. Here’s the link to the previous chapters: Jeff’s Shredding Freakshow: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9150-jeffs-shredding-freakshow Jeff: How it all started: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9193-jeff-how-it-all-started -------- 21/05/2016 10:30 am – NYC Jeff had one of “those” days: Those days where his mind had remembered his life: where he had reached, how he had gone from a skinny teenager to a grotesque freak of nature. Those thoughts about his progress, his growth, his natural (or unnatural) genetic variation, that transformed him into an almost skinless shredded freak. Those thoughts got him brutally horned up, since he woke up. And he knew what could satisfy him the most: one equally brutal, intense and insane workout. So he had a HUGE breakfast, with the biggest hard on ever in his pants, and got ready for gym. Still with the heavy breakfast in his stomach, Jeff was heading there. It had been a really good choice: the gym was meant for heavy lifting, but it wasn’t located in the best zone of NYC for that. Instead of heavy bodybuilders, there were lots of mid-aged women trying to keep in shape for his millionaire husbands. There were also some guys into lifting, but not in a hardcore way. But none of that really mattered: when Jeff appeared in the door, most of the people went their homes, and left the whole gym almost for him. Jeff knew the reason: the sole image of his freaky body disturbed them. Some stayed there for some minutes, half mesmerized, half scared, but none of them remained in the gym for more than half an hour, time enough for Jeff to get into his muscle frenzy workout. He knew his capabilities, his natural gift for training and building muscle: no carbs, no workout; but he burned it so fast he had to keep on eating during his workout. A high accelerated metabolism that let him take 100% advantage of each ounce of carbs, and once he stopped, removing any remaining fat in his skin and muscles. So that’s why he carried a huge meal with himself in the gym: 2lbs of rice, chicken, along with the bottle of supplements he needed every 15 minutes. He got into the gym and said hello. As usual, the owner didn’t cheered him back, who would like anyone emptying his gym in 30 minutes? Jeff didn’t take much time to prepare: he wanted to train as soon as possible. He had only one though in his head. “You fucking freak, it’s time to explode those pecs. Fuck I just can’t wait to feel them pump, feel the fibers tear apart, in the most freaky grotesque condition any human has reached”. He drank his first supplements, stuffed his meal in the locker and went to the weights room. He was only wearing his tank top, a XXXXL size that was fucking small for his frame, and looked like a second skin (or a first skin, since his real one was thinner than the fabric), and a pair of shorts, really short ones, with no underwear, who could barely contain his boner. And he didn’t care of that: he was high for his muscles, for his workout, for himself, all he could think about is how he was going to look in just a few minutes, and the freak he’d turn into in the 3 hour workout. He passed by the corridor who lead to the weights room, full of mirrors in both sides. But he did a huge effort not to look at himself. “Go on Jeff, focus!!! Don’t look at yourself yet, you have to start training NOW” But then he got into the weights room… and lost his mind. Mirrors everywhere, from the floor to the ceiling, gave him a reflection of his freaky body from every angle. He made a strong effort not to start posing and look at every muscle group, and headed to the seated bench press machine, but then he looked at himself at the mirror and focused on those pecs. “Oh my fucking god Jeff, you’re a fucking freak!” The pecs were almost fully visible, since his tank top was a really small one. It left visible the whole pecs, even the upper abs, and just covered a small trim by the tank braces. The insertions in his delts were freaky visible, even in a relaxed state, the tight thick tendon supporting the whole muscle and making the fibers flow from it, expanding to the rest of the muscle and forming freaky insertions in his sternon. His former trainer, Andy, had refused to go on training him because he thought he was pushing himself too much, that his health was in risk, so much tension on his bones and tendons could break them. But he didn’t care about that. He went on exploring his pecs, from the collarbone, the clavicles, down to the abs. The thickness of the pecs shocked him in the mirror, and looked down to watch directly at them, and all he could see was MUSCLE. “Awwww look at these freaks, man. You’ve got here two big balloons of muscle”. The sight got him harder. MUSCLE and more MUSCLE. Two immense balloons of muscle that didn’t let him look at his abs or his feet. He could see the cleavage, fucking deep, like a canyon surrounded by walls of muscle fibers. He focused on the insertions of the fibers in the bone, freaky visible, the thick tendon who ran along the cleavage was supporting so much force that is was popping out of his skin. He got his left index finger, sucked it up, getting it really wet, and used it to follow the line of insertions of the left pec fibers in the tendon. Millions, billions, of fibers inserting in a freaky tendon, feeling them with his wet fingers, got him harder again. “Aw Jeff, you’re such a grotesque and disgusting monster. But I fucking love this feeling, being such a peeled freak. Come on” Then he hit a big hard crunch on the right pec. He felt the nutrients he had eaten at breakfast flowing through the muscle to make it contract like hell. The right pec exploded and almost doubled its normal relaxed size. He could see the fibers growing, thickening, pulling the tendon hard, raising it up to release some tension on the bone, and the immense wall of muscle getting freaky thick, cut, higher than the left one, his finger stuck in the middle of it. He took the finger off the cleavage, hit a second crunch with his left one, joining both hands down in his abs and saw the second pec EXPLODE again. “Awwww that’s it u fucker!!! Now it’s enough, now let’s get these babies grow freak” He sat in the bench press and placed the plates at 300lbs. “Just a warm up” He didn’t use his leg to push the helping pedal and make the grip get at a normal position. Instead of that, he moved his hands back back back, in an impossible position to start pushing 300lbs. As he did that, his muscle fibers stretched like hell, his skin suffering an impossible tension, the tendon about to break apart, but he could finally get the grips. The look of his pec was impressive: the stretch had made his skin get even thinner, he could see every fiber, every vein under the skin, thickening to nourish the muscle with blood and carbs. And then he started pushing. The first push was almost bone crushing. He hit a loud roar as he started contracting the pecs. He could feel the impossible tension in the sternon and shoulder tendons, but didn’t care. His external fibers started pulling his arms, some of the fibers just broke, and he could hear that. “Aw fuckkkk that’s it let’s go with it”. He kept pushing and the grip moved effortlessly, making the whole muscle work, contracting in an impossible way, destroying thousands of fibers. His veins thickened to add more blood to the muscle, the muscle smoothed a bit from all that extra blood that his muscle needed to do the rep. As he was reaching the top he arched his back to add more pressure to his lower pec fibers, to make them work as well. He finally pushed to the top and looked at his reflection “Fuck I can’t even look at me”. The brutal growth of his muscle in the very first rep had almost covered his face against the mirror. He had to raise his head to be able to see and what he saw shocked him like hell. “No way, that can’t be me!!!! Whoooa u fucker, u did it again”. That wasn’t a though, he just said it alout.The few people that remained in the gym turned to watch the freak show in the machine. The sight from his position was shocking. His lower fibers were almost bursting out of his skin, freaky visible, the two upper abs were popping like hell, as if the exercise was meant for them. The rest of the abs were covered by the fabric of the tank top but he could see them clearly through the fabric. Popping like hell, covered in veins, even the shreds were visible. His nips were freaky disgusting, looking apparently normal but surrounded by billions of tearing muscle fibers, contracted to the max. “Now let’s do the show”, Jeff thought, and let the weight go down again, slowly, using the remaining carbs in his pecs to work them out while returning to the initial position. His fibers were stretching more and more, as he let the weights go down, but he didn’t stop in a natural starting position, no way, he let the weights go down down down again, his hands going back back back, until he stretched completely the muscle, tearing another hundred of fibers in that movement. And he repeated it again “Hit it, grow”, those were his words while pushing. He didn’t count the reps, he just kept pushing and pushing until he felt satisfied and full of blood. “Hit it grow”, he went on repeating those words aloud, like a mantra, with each rep. Each one getting him harder and hornier, losing his mind, and getting into the frenzy that he knew it was coming. “Hit it, grow”. He closed his eyes, and started visualizing his veins thickening, the fabric stretching, he heard a loud tearing sound and he knew the fabric couldn’t support the pressure and broke apart somewhere “Hit it, grow”, the burn in the muscle was painful, terrible, like a torture, but all he could think was on repping. “Hit it, grow”, he could feel the pecs fibers tearing apart, regenerating almost instantly thanks to his amazing genetics and the supplements, and making the pecs grow like hell. “Hit it, grow”, some heavy drops of sweat were running through his canyon cleavage, some others slowly ran over his over sensitive nipples, giving him a gentle tickle on them. “Awwwwww fuck my nips man, I need some work on them.” He went on “Hit it, grow”, the feeling on his nipples was getting too intense, weirdly intense, extremely horning. Then he opened his eyes and saw the owner of the gym, with a weird look, and his tongue out, working Jeff’s nips. That sight didn’t shock Jeff. He never thought the owner could want to do that, and it was probably because he was out of himself, his eyes were not those of a “normal” person, but a disturbed, crazy, devoted, in a trance one. But Jeff didn’t even care of that, he went on repping for 10 long more minutes of muscle development and nip work. When he finished he was already in a trance, frenzy, he didn’t know what that was. He couldn’t even think of anything, his movements were quite automatic, robotic ones. He stood up, looked at the mirror and saw the huge tear in his tank top at his upper abs. He grabbed the fabric and tore it apart, exposing his whole torso to the owner and no one else, because he had, again, emptied the gym. He gave himself a long look of his pecs. The pecs had doubled their size, each one would probably weigh 45lbs, nips pointing down, dripping sweat, carbs and the fat that his genetics was getting rid of. Slowly but continuously drying out, transforming his huge ballooned pecs into two slabs of freaky cords, tendons, veins, muscle fibers and an almost inexistent skin. The look was absolutely DISGUSTING, GROTESQUE, INSANE, INHUMAN, DISTURBING, but FUCK HE LOVED IT. He smiled at the peeled monster in the mirror and started his muscle frenzy. He extended his arms out, bulging muscles everywhere in his forearms, triceps and the huge biceps, then slowly with an evil grin look started moving them down, making the chest RIPPPPPPPLE from the bottom to the top. The fibers started crushing at the lowermost, the huge wave of muscle moving up. When it got to the nips, the wave made them roll up and point straight, horizontal, surrounded by those freaky and sinewy fibers. When it got to the midsection he crunched it harder, making each pec literally divide into two, and the deep dimple in the external side of the muscles looking like a cave. The wave moved up, getting to the top and forming a huge deep immense long cut along his collarbone, so thick and so deep everyone could fuck and cum into that cut. “Now that’s MUSCLE Jeff!!!!” He looked at the whole picture and got a huge wet spot in his already tight pants. He started oozing precum by gallons, wetting the whole fabric and making it drip to the floor. Then he noticed the owner, sitting there in a corner, next to him, his eyes lost, his cock out, jacking off furiously, with a painful but horned look, shaking his hips to enforce his jackoff, moaning loud, like complaining for not being able to cum. “Aw yeah yeah man. Jeff, this is what you need now. Someone to freak out” Jeff turned to the owner, his huge gigantic pecs still flexed. Relaxed his pose and got into a “normal” status. What Jeff called normal was an insane bunch of shredded beef everywhere, sinews, cords, tendons and veins popping everywhere He removed his shorts and exposed his snake cock, veiny as fuck, precum dripping off his slit non stop. The owner went crazy when he saw him fully naked, bulging everywhere, that monster muscle god in front of him, those pecs pumped like no one else in the world could have. Jeff started walking towards the owner, slowly, with an incredible self confidence who would make anyone crap. The owner got more nervous, his jackoff rate increasing. “That cock is gonna hurt tomorrow”. The manly voice of Jeff made the owner shake his head, and jack off more and more. Then Jeff started his freaking routine, what he called his muscle frenzy, and started hitting pose after pose, just for that poor guy laying there, unable to control his hand. “Let’s see if you can resist this” He started placing his right leg a bit forward, raised his feel and bent his knee. The gigantic leg was smooth but he could see the cuts under the skin. He started shaking the leg, from side to side. 50lbs of muscle moving like hell in front of that poor guy and then “TAKE THIS U FUCKER!!!!” He crunched the leg and the movement stopped in a sudden, transforming the huge slab of muscle into 15 different muscles perfectly cut out, carved in the surface of Jeff’s leg, right to the bone. The way the muscles popped there was a nonsense, disturbing. Even Jeff himself wasn’t believing how they looked today. He turned the leg and made his lateral muscle crunch harder, almost making it separate from the bone, popping out like hell­­­. “Aw fuck man you have to do this, come on!!” Jeff turned his leg outwards exposing the inner thigh and letting that scared guy look his real freak leg part. A giant snake of muscle crawled from the groin to the knee, a giant sartorius muscle, feathered like hell, make of long freaky fibers. Jeff crunched it separatedly and make it pop out, giving it the look of a thick vein. Then he took his hands and slowly followed the muscle, moving it under his skin, playing with him for that guy’s enjoy. He looked at him, and he couldn’t barely move, just jack off, so hard Jeff couldn’t see the hand, just a blur of a hand moving along a really damaged shaft. He decided to end that cock’s pain. “Stand up” The owner stood up without stopping his cock job. “Stop jacking” He obeyed and slowly stopped his furious jackoff. Jeff saw what he had done to himself. The cock was completely red, some of its foreskin was really damaged, small cuts along the skin and a precum foam covering the shaft. Then Jeff kneeled down, got close to the guy, leaned backward and hit an explosive pec crunch, in the same way he had previously pumped them. He could see the deep ridged cleavage, ready for taking that cock in. “Now fuck this” The guy opened his eyes wide, not able to believe it. He looked shocked and Jeff had to repeat, which he hated so fucking much. “I won’t say it again. Fuck this… NOW” The owner of the gym slowly moved towards Jeff, and placed his cockhead on the lower cleavage, next to his upper abs. The pain was impossible, for all the damage he had self-inflicted in his cock, but feeling was just UNBELIEVABLE, AMAZING, PURE HEAVEN. He leaned his head back and moaned loud. Jeff heard that and felt it, he could feel how that guy had let himself get lost in the muscle lust, the muscle frenzy. He started thrusting his cock into Jeff’s cleavage, moaning louder, feeling a terrible pain in his cock, the fibers were so hard it was like grating his own cockhead against some iron grater, but he couldn’t stop, he started fucking that pec god, that shredded bunch of fibers. “Oh fuck yes!!!! Don’t you ever stop” Jeff himself was in a state of pure ecstasy. The fact that this guy was FUCKING his muscle overpassed his limits and got deeper into his lust. He crunched his pecs harder, making them grow, and making that cock bury into the muscle. The guy cried out in pain but went on fucking. Jeff’s eyes went red, each time that cock entered his pec and reached his chin, he give it a deep suck, feeling the hurt cockhead. Jeff started rolling his pecs alternatively up and down, bouncing them, making his inner fibers to literally JACK OFF THAT GUY’S COCK. Both of them moaning loud, louder each time. All Jeff could see was his GROTESQUE PECS and that guy’s cock fucking them. That gave him a full hard on and his balls started churning. “Fuck here it comes. Cum over me!” Jeff made the guy stop fucking his pecs, stood up, stepped back and hit a freaky most muscular pose in that guy’s face. His muscles popped everywhere, freakishly cut, shredded, his traps rising like mountains, his face in a trance look, his jawline about to burst his face skin, the deltoids looking like 10 separate huge muscles on top of his shoulders, bursting out. The tricep and bicep, from that view, were unable to distinguish between them, just two huge gigantic and sinewy muscles forming an amazing frame for the torso, what was indescribable. The 12 pack of Jeff's stomach were popping out like hell, even in the shadows that his arms projected over them, he could see the veins running from his cock up to his abs, branching out to fill them with blood and pump them. But what really got him done was the pecs, they were looking as if two immense basketballs were placed where there should only be pecs. They had doubled their size again, a bunch of disgusting and obscene fibers that he had fucked minutes earlier. That idea make the owner cum. In a loud shout he shot gallons of extremely liquid cum right into Jeff’s pecs. Shot after shot. “Awwwwww that’s it you fucker!!!” Jeff felt the warm cum over his pecs, slowly flowing down, some cum dripping by his nips, some flowing through his abs down right into his cock, and that feeling made him cum like the freak he was. “Take this!!!!!!!” In a sudden explosion, Jeff’s body started shaking as he cum. Gallons of cum flew right into the floor, at the guy’s feet. Shot after shot, he made a pool of cum, a heavy smell that got him even hornier and made him cum more and more. When he dried out of cum, he smiled satisfied, opened his eyes and looked at that poor owner, back to his mind, unable to understand how he had been doing what he did. Mix of shock, embarrassment, disturb, he stood there, still dripping cum, as Jeff was putting his shorts again, entered the locker room, got his second supplements shake and got again into the weights room, right to the inclined bench press, to go on with his workout. Jeff looked at him again, then at the pool of cum and simply said. “It’s your gym. You should clean that mess” And started repping again.
  6. Hi guys. Here's a new story, a new character, but still as freak as my previous stories. Been quite inspired, so it's a quite long one, but the first of a series to come. Hope you all like it!!! ------- Bob couldn’t even talk, mouth open, eyes showing a freaked out look, barely able to stand. He stepped back, half afraid of what Jeff could do to him, half scared of the sight of that (human?) being that was standing in front of him. He reached the wall of the room, realizing that he couldn’t go back any further; his legs started to tremble, weakling, and he left himself slowly fell off to the ground, back against the wall, until he reached the floor, not able to keep his eyes off from that (guy?) he had hooked up with. Bob, scared to hell, still had the biggest hard on in his entire life, his cock throbbing uncontrollably, oozing precum since an hour ago. His heartbeat accelerated, adrenaline flowing through his veins. Jeff looked at his date, fully satisfied of his reaction. Who wouldn’t? The mirror in front of him, next to where Bob had landed, gave him a full sight of himself. “FUCK ME, I’M A BEAST!!”, he bragged like a switch when he realized what he had become. He looked at his reflection and all he wanted was to fuck himself. 5’11 tall frame, 28 years old, dark skin, handsome as fuck, and that freaking sick disgusting look he had been living his entire life with. He was there, completely naked, hitting a single bicep pose with his right arm, making his two ceps rise high in the air, almost touching his own fist, covered in veins from the triceps to the highest peak of the muscle, where a freaky knot made of a huge thick vein made the peak look even higher. And with the most shredded look he had achieved in his life, his dehydrated skin barely able to contain all that muscle inside. Robert was still there in the floor, unable to believe that. He had already been with big guys, but the looks of Jeff weren’t human. He explored the bicep with his eyes again, although he knew that would scare him even more. He started with the insertion of the bicep in the deltoid. The muscle was clearly attached to the bone, the thick tendon clearly visible, just surrounded by a sick layer of paper thin skin. From the tendon it started a bunch of fibers, because that’s all he could see: fibers. Muscle fibers that grew thicker, dividing into more fibers, hundreds, thousands, millions of fibers that formed an immense, grotesquely shredded, obscenely peeled bicep, rising high in the air, but divided into two perfect ceps, the inner one, and the outer one, a bit higher. Perfectly separated and split, both ceps competed to be the most awesome work of nature in a man’s arm. Bob could see every single striation in the muscle. Both ceps grew thicker as they got closer to the forearm, forming not a baseball bicep, but two huge impossible baseballs put them together. They finally ended up attaching themselves to the arm, but bulging about 2cm away from the forearm, creating a huge deep and fuckable valley of shredded muscle. The exploration of the bicep made him ooze even more precum, thicker this time, as if he were cumming; but he wasn’t, that was just his human reaction to a perfect alpha male. Then he took a full view of the arm, realizing again that Jeff seemed skinless, the muscle pushing out hard, trying to burst out of it, but the peeled look was so… fucking weird and hot at the same time. Thousands of fibers pushing one against the other, fighting for space in a huge arm whose skin was not able to contain so much muscle. He could even see, from there, how some fibers broke with such and intense crunch, making a soft sound, and tearing apart, letting more free space for new and thicker fibers that were regenerating in that very moment. Bob’s cock throbbed another spurt of thick white pre. As he had thought before, that sight scared the hell out of him, and his breath suddenly stopped for a second, not sure if he was living a dream or if that was real. He took a moment to view Jeff’s whole frame, that 5’11 tall, 28 year old muscle monster who showed no fat at all. Peeled from head to toe, Jeff seemed like a skinless anatomy chart, only covered by veins instead of skin, some of them thicker, some of them thinner, but covering him everywhere, from his toes to his very jawline muscles. Robert had always loved ripped guys, even shredded guys, and when Jeff told him he was the most shredded guy ever, he didn’t really believe him. ”He’ll be just one of those skinny guys who call themselves ripped and they’re just toned”, he though. But, now and there, looking at that obscene freak of nature, he realized Jeff had lied. He couldn’t be called “shredded”, that was something further, something beyond nature, that couldn’t be healthy or even possible. How the fuck was this guy living? Just by taking a look at his whole frame and the intense crunch on that freaky bicep, he should be dead by now! A small tear fell off his eyes, which Jeff clearly noticed, fucking satisfied at it. But he wanted more, he wanted to make Bob cry, get him really scared, and at the same time give him the biggest orgasm of his puny fucking life. Jeff’s mind changed in that very moment, turning from a self-proud muscle freak to an out-of-his-mind muscle beast. He changed his face, erased that smile he always wore when being worshipped and turned it into an aggressive look. He walked towards Robert, there in the floor, got on his left knee and placed his freakish, mountain-like bicep really close to Bob’s face. Bob looked at him nervously, moving his eyes from the bicep to Jeff’s face, not sure what was going to happen. Bob took a close look of that bicep and his mind couldn’t process all of it. From that close, the bicep didn’t seem a muscle, it was hard for him to distinguish where the biceps ended and where the triceps started, the freaky cut between both muscles was so freaky striated and veiny that all he could see was muscle, thick, sinewy, obscenely shredded, millions of fibers just a few inches away from his eyes. He could clearly see how Jeff hit small harder crunches to make the muscle move under the skin, his fibers twitching, fighting for a space that wasn’t available anymore. Jeff was high, high for his muscle, high for Bob’s reaction, high for his own muscle-lusting mind. All he could think about was to blow that guy’s mind. “Look at it!”, he ordered Bob. Bob couldn’t react, begging with his eyes not to force him to watch that insane muscle once again. Jeff’s face looked angrier, and repeated “LOOK… AT… IT… NOW!”. Bob turned his eyes to focus on his unbelievable biceps. It was even thicker than before, but then Jeff did his own freak show. He started re-crunching his inner cep, the lower one, slowly getting it harder, more round, the peak higher, but what was more important to him: more shredded!! His inner cep contracted more, and he knew what was going on inside, he was dehydrating the muscle and filling it with blood to grow it. The cep fibers literally tore apart and healed in Bob’s eyes, in a random order, growing thicker, dividing into more muscle fibers, striations getting freaky cut, it was just as if the muscle were dividing into thousands of smaller muscles, but the reality was that the cep had grown more than an inch in just ONE HARD CRUNCH, in front of Bob’s eyes. Bob was about to faint. He started stuttering: “No way… no.. no… no way”. He frowned his eyebrows, trying to concentrate on not fainting. “Please, don’t go on”, he begged Jeff. But Jeff was too high, and he wouldn’t stop. He did the same with the outer cep, the higher one, the more veiny one, he hit a freaky harder crunch on that individual cep, making the muscle tear apart faster than before, growing thick, sinewy, shredded as fuck, peeled. The sight was too obscene for Robert, who turned his face away, even though his cock was throbbing more precum than ever. Jeff immediately took Roberts face with his sinewy veiny hands and forced him to look at his bicep and in the very moment that Bob looked again, he increased the crunch, making the cep literally EXPLODE and grow 3 inches in a sudden, his huge thick veins dividing into branches who covered the cep to fill it with more blood and grow them larger. “Now, LICK!”. Bob had no free will by then, his mind was controlled by the freak show he had seen just some seconds before, and like a zombie leaned towards Jeff’s bicep, took his tongue out and carefully placed the tip of it in the split of both ceps. Jeff felt that warm wet and shy tongue and his heart stopped for a second. That was the thing he loved the most: a stuttering shy and afraid guy surrendering to his muscles and finally worshipping him. His face changed again to his usual kind and smiling face, satisfied as fuck, then he took Robert’s head and slowly made him lick all the split, from the deltoid bound to the forearm. Robert let his mind go to the worship and felt both ceps with his tongue, the bigger and veiny upper one, and the even more shredded and dry lower one, looking at Jeff’s eyes as he did it and noticing his newly smiling and self-satisfied look. Then, by himself, Robert placed more of his tongue on Jeff’s outer cep, slowly running it up to the peak, noticing each of those freaky striations with his tongue and every single vein on top of it. When he reached the peak and noticed the knot of veins, he started playing with it, moving it under the freaky thin skin, making Jeff moan like a beast. That turned him even more, and started licking the ceps harder, letting his mind go into that muscle lust he had never thought he could experience. Jeff went on crunching, the harder he could, feeling a terrible pain in his bicep, noticing how the cramps were increasing to an unbelievable level. But all he wanted was that, have Robert crazy for him. He took Bob’s head off his bicep and extended it for him, his whole arm in front of him, dozens of freaky slabs of shredded beef forming an insane 75lb arm, from the balloon deltoid to the veiny sick skinny wrist and hands. He turned the arm to show Robert all angles of that incredible mass of obscenely sinewy muscles. The forearm looked as thick as Robert’s leg, with two clearly visible parts on it: the inner forearm, full of hose-thick veins, that even extended looked sick, sinewy, fibers running from the wrist to the elbow cave, twitching one against the other, fighting to bulge out, and the outer side, who just was insanely shredded. Dozens of thick bulging strings attached to his wrist with freaky and clearly visible tendons; a forearm so incredibly cut, cuts so deep that Robert somehow thought they were detached from the bone underneath, and each one of them so freaky shredded they seem being made of layers and layers of fibers, and covered by thousands of smaller veins. The triceps were hanging low, freaky low, as if it were another bicep flexing but downwards. Even in that extended pose, the cuts were freaky visible, all of them really deep into the arm right to the bone, no fat al all, it was just… MUSCLE, pounds and pounds of muscles glued to his suffering bones. When Jeff turned his waist to his left and extended again the arm but looking left, the view changed completely. Robert could see Jeff’s triceps in all its glory: three perfectly visible muscles, which weren’t really visible in any other bodybuilder, were just clear as water in him. The longer one, in the outer side, connected to his elbow by a thinner but extremely strong tendon was just a freak of nature. The term shredded was and insult, there were millions of fibers, clearly visible, crossing the muscle from the middle arm right to the cut with the biceps. The middle one, right next to the deltoid, was just a bulging mass of grotesque fibers, who was fighting for space with the third muscle, on the opposite side, bulging hard, magnificent, shredded as fuck. The three of them forming an immense horseshow made of muscle that blew Bob’s mind away. “What the… fuck?”, it was all that Bob could say when he saw that insane display of muscle. “Oh my fucking god”, he stuttered as he leaned forward to start licking those three mounds of freaky muscle, as if he were a dog, running his tongue all over the cuts, feeling the fibers, trying to pinch some skin with his teeth, and not able to take the slightest ounce of skin, that freak was almost skinless!!!!! Jeff’s mind went higher when he suddenly noticed how that shy and puny muscle worshipper had finally let himself go to the worship of every muscle in him, that his fear had become a desperate need for muscle. His cock spurted a huge thick ooze of precum, thick and long as fuck, spewing it right into his leg, and decided to explode the tricep again. He took a deep breath, his chest inflating deep and hit an extreme tricep crunch who made the three ceps of it explode and double its size in a second. “GROARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. FUCK THAT’S IT!!!!!” He felt his tricep explode and hit Bob’s mouth. Robert saw the show and couldn’t believe it. Jeff’s arm had become something monstrous, something beyond the nature of any human being. Peeled from the deltoid to the elbow, some parts of the triceps skin were so stretched that he could see small little cuts, as if the skin were about to tear apart. His mind changed again into a freaked status and started stuttering: “No… no no no no no”. Jeff turned his face to see Bob’s, smiling with a cocky look, satisfied, and replied: “Of course yes, you fucker”. In a sudden he crunched his bicep again, hitting a single bicep back pose, crunching the hardest he had EVER done in his life, and making his arm explode into billions of muscle shreds, veins, sinews, striations, and even in that freaky status, the cuts and insertions of each muscle were so perfectly visible, deep to the bone, that his arm looked like perfectly cut out masses of muscles glued to the bones, his skin about to tear apart open to let the muscles grow even more. Robert started crying, tears running down his face. “You’re a monster, a fucking freak of nature, you shouldn’t exist, you’re too grotesque and disgusting for people, but… but… but… I fucking love you…” He rolled his eyes and started breathing heavily, still crying. From his view, Jeff could see thick huge spurts of cum flying high into the air and landing into his own bicep, one after the other. “Yeaaah that’s it baby, cum to your monster”, he said satisfied as he noticed how Bob was crying and cumming at the same time, his ultimate muscle lust, being so freaky disgustingly shredded that people wouldn’t believe he was real, that he was a monster, and even so, making them cum just by flexing his muscles. That fact hit him deep inside, watching his own biceps pumped to the fullest, covered by Bob’s cum and he knew his own cum was coming. “Awwww yeah, that’s it you freak, cum to your freaky shredded muscles”. He turned to the opposite mirror, his back facing the fainted Robert, to watch himself and started hitting freaky poses, one after the another: double bicep, abs pose, most muscular, traps high, side chest, triceps pose, non stop. Every time he hit a crunch, his cock was growing thicker, longer, watching that freak of nature, that product of evolution, shredded from head to toe, become more and more shredded with each pose, his skin about to burst. He extended one leg, balancing on the other one and crunched it freaky hard. His immense quad exploded into four ceps of pure mass of feathered striated beef. His calf looked like another leg, just a thick mass of muscle peaking inwards, rock diamond shaped, and his inner thigh run by a long freaky thick feathered sartorius that flowed from his balls to his knee, barely visible for so much muscle around it. Covered by thousands of small veins, he knew he couldn’t hold his cum anymore and hit a final pose: placed his hands behind his head, spreading his lats wide, forming an obscene inverted triangle of shredded muscle, his serratus already looking like a brick road, his obliques turning into a grotesque bunch of parallel long fibers from his serratus right into his abs, and his thick Adonis belt framing his abs like two devil snakes inserting into his cock base. From behind, Robert recovered from his shocking experience and watched Jeff’s pose. His insane arms framing his head, the shoulders from behind were nothing but a compendium of anatomy, dozens, if not hundreds, of muscles attached to his arms and grotesquely inserting right under his traps. Those bulging traps, shredded to unbelievable limits, inserting into his spine so clearly he was almost close to puking: both traps were so fucking separated and shredded that he could clearly see the bones of his spine between the two mounds of muscle. The lats were so fuking spread that he had to physically turn his head to be able to see them all. The lats striations run from the front of Jeff’s body right into the middle of his back, forming an insane cut that seemed more a ridge than a real insertion. Both muscles forming an impressive Xmas tree shape that blew his mind away again and made him start crying again. He couldn’t do another thing but reach them and start caressing it, tracing the insane saw of his Xmas tree with his fingers, unable to find something he could call fat, water or even skin, it felt like touching raw muscle. He felt such a pervert for enjoying that muscle freak, but went on worshipping his back. And so Jeff felt it. He hadn’t noticed how he recovered until he heard his cry and felt his fingers admiring and adoring his gigantic freaky shredded back. He then focused on his last muscles to adore: that impossible 10 pack that made most of guys cum in their pants when he started training in the gym. 10 freaky cobblestones, made of pure muscle, shredded vertically, run by a thousand small veins who joined in the lower abs to form two huge hose-thick veins running right into his cock. Those abs got him even harder but he wanted more. He took another deep breath, and hit another impossible abs crunch, suffering like hell the pain he was self-inflicting in his body, but then the abs started popping out even more, one by one, first the upper ones, shredding at the same time, then the second row, who popped with an audible sound, POP, POP, then the third row, the fourth and finally his fifth row of abs popped out like hell making his stomach look like an insane washboard of shredded beef. But then he pushed himself further, crunched harder his pube muscles, which he had never used but for jacking off, making them pop out, forming an extra pair of abs and turning himself into a 12-pack monster. That was too much for him. His eyes injected with blood and self-lust, the touch of Robert from behind, and the sight of his own reflection, turned into a monster, made his whole body tremble, shake and ripple like hell as his balls started pushing all that cum out of his huge cock. “THERE YOUUUUU GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”, he shouted like hell as his abs and pube muscles contracted to throw huge and thick spurts of muscle cum right into his reflection. First shot looking at his abs, second shot looking at his insane biceps crushing his ears, third shot feeling Bob’s hands in his back, fourth shot looking at his insane lats and serratus, fifth shot for his calves and sixth one for his insane shredded quads. “FUUUUCKKKK YESSSSSSSS”, Jeff shouted out loud as he was shooting his last shot of cum right into his pecs’ reflection. Jeff rolled his eyes up, stood up, walked to his bed, and left his weight fell to it, exhausted, finally relaxing his muscles. “Now go”, he told Robert. He laid there, exhausted but satisfied, playing with Robert’s cum in his biceps, thinking about his life, and how he ended up being such a freak, as he heard Bob closing the door and walking away, still crying. -------- Here are the links for the next chapters. I hope you like it too!
  7. Guest

    Self worship: Pecs

    Hi guys. Here's another one of my self-worship series: time to flex pecs Hope you like it. ----------------------------------- 8:30 am: The clock alarm started buzzing like hell. Greg hardly tried to open his eyes to make sure it was time to wake up. "Aw, fuck..." He was still asleep, and the clock was still buzzing, so he raised his arm, reached the clock, letting his hand fall down onto the button, almost smashing it, and making it finally stop. He started building up his mind for the routine day: having a huge breakfast, then going to gym, have a shower, have his meal, go to work, eat again, rest a bit at home, then eat again before his second gym session of the dat, have his dinner, and then run like hell to lose every ounce of fat and keep his bodyfat as low as possible, then a second shower and sleep. That was his almost every day agenda, and what would have driven crazy to anyone, made him really happy, he just loved it. The only thing that bothered him was his work. He was an engineer, and he loved what he did, but fuck if he were a millionaire he could quit it and fully concentrate on building his body, his true devotion. But until then, he still needed the job. Or, maybe he could find a sponsor for building his body?... Naaah, he thought it a second time and discarded it. "What for? To feel obliged to be worshipped by a bad worshipper every day? No way" He remembered the previous night and regretted again for having accepted that date. He was horned as fuck, too horned, had worked out legs, and had a huge cum after giving himself a self-worship, but he needed more, so he accepted to meet Mark, "the best worshipper you would ever know", in his own words. "Fuck yourself Mark, you're a crap". The guy was only focused on Greg's biceps. He didn't really mind that, he loved to give himself single-muscle worship sessions, but the guy was sooooo fucking boring. The only thing that he wanted was to make Greg flex his biceps and kept them flexed, while he licked them and jacked off. No words, just "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god" like a mantra for 15 minutes, who seemed to Greg a whole day. He decided to end that shit, licked his own bicep for the guy, made him cum instantly and sent him home, promising himself not to make the same mistake again: "Greg, don't you EVER meet a worshipper when horned". The worst part of it is that he got so angry with himself that he lost his horniness and went to bed late, horned and with his balls full. And there he was in bed, sleepy as hell, angry again for his mistake, and with a long day ahead. "What do I have to workout today?... Aw yeahh, pecs!!!" That made him happy again, he loved working out pecs. They weren't their fav muscles but fuck, he had a special ability, or genetics, to have a HUGE pump who could last for days. "Ok, let's do some reps, maybe I will get fully awake with it". He got off from bed, got to the floor, kept in a perfect push up position, his 375lbs resting just on his hands and started repping: "1, 2, 3..." He could still feel the cramps from last pecs session, almost a week ago, but he loved that feeling. "21, 22, 23, ..." He started feeling the blood flowing through his pecs. "61, 62, 63, ..." Fuck now he started feeling horned again. "Come on Greg, focus on your pecs, not on your cock. 101, 102, 103..." Now, in the 100th rep, was when he felt their pecs pumped to the max, and the next ones were the ones that made him grow. "131, 132,...hell yeahhh". Now he was fully horned, he couldn't resist it, the feeling of the muscle growing with each rep was too much. He closed his eyes and visualized his pecs working in each rep: when down in the floor, fully extended, fibers freaky visible for havig his skin fully stretched, his insertions in the delts, then starting to raise up, his fibers contracting to pull the arms down and make his 375lbs raise. He could even visualize how the upper fibers started contracting at first, and then, when he was 15cm away from the floor, the upper fibers started working, contracting themselves and pushing him upper. He could even feel the burn of each muscle part and he fucking loved it. Then, when fully up, he hit a huge final crunch, forcing his inner fibers to crunch like hell, making his pecs pop out like two meat balloons. He let himself go with that image he made up in his mind, but then opened his eyes, looked to his pecs and saw them, but much better than what he had imagined: he could see his huge cleavage, the insertions of the pecs in the sternon, every single fiber insertion perfectly thick, huge, like a knife stuck in the middle of his torso, forming a perfect valley, but not in a line, but like a saw. He saw the size of the pecs, HUGE, popping out at least 10cm away from his ribcage, the insertion in the collarbone, shredded even in that position where those fibers didn't really work. He couldn't even find the smallest wrinkle in the join with his arm, his skin was so fucking tight that all of it was filled with muscle. That image was his fucking own muscle lust, and he entered that "zone" where he wasn't really him, but a self-loving muscle freak. He rolled up his eyes and went on repping: "200, 201, 202, ..." With each rep, he visualized the image of his pecs working, getting harder at that image. He wouldn't stop until failing, and that was going to last. "300, 301, 302, ..." His pecs burned like hell, making his cock harder and harder with each burning. "350, 351, ..." He began to lose his strength "362... FUUCKKKKK". He let his body drop, couldn't do another rep, and the sound of his body falling made his dog bark, freaked out. 375lbs falling down onto the floor made him feel as if there was an earthquake. Greg was exhausted, taking enormous quantities of air with each breath, but he was even hornier than before. He placed his huge fists and feet on the floor and raised his sweating 375lbs of muscle, maybe a bit less for so much sweating. He walked like a zombie, feeling a huge pain in his pecs muscles, knowing that this was going to be his biggest pump ever. He finally got to the bathroom, still in shades, reached the light switch and pushed it... And the sight of himself in the mirror just shocked him even harder... He couldn't really recognize his own muscle frame. His pecs were wider than ever, even relaxed, framing much wider that his armpits. The shape of them was almost perfectly squared. The followed the cuts of them wit his eyes, mesmerized with them: the freaky insertion in the delts muscle, as if the muscle were emerging from below the deltoids. It didn't even look like a single insertion, but every fiber bunch inserting into the deltoid, as if the pec were at least five smaller pecs growing from the shoulder. He followed the outer line of the pec, a bit inclined towards the upper abs. All that line was blurry, because of the fibers and striations that were running his pecs horizontally and hiding behind he pecs, inserting in his ribcage, in the part that was covered by his own pec. He raised his right hand and placed it behind his huge pec, finding the insertions of the fibers in the ribcage with his fingertips. He traced that insertion slowly, feeling the saw-like line that formed it. The feeling of that horned him even harder, making his cock grow longer, thicker, and making his huge cockhead slit drip some precum. He left his left pec free visible again for himself and went on enjoying his view. The outer line ended in his thick huge nipple, pointing down for so much meat on his pec. The fibers in his lower pecs were not completely parallel to the other ones, making clearly visible that those fibers helped the muscle make another movements different than the upper pec. He made a slow muscle contraction of the lower pec, really slow, from the bottom up, making the lower striations look deeper than the upper ones. When the muscle wave reached his nipple, it made it point a bit up, long, round and thick, freaky hard from so much blood in his pecs. He let his left pec fully contract in a wave of muscle running up, getting freaky hard, freaky striated, shredded everywhere, dry as fuck. Then he looked at the image: his right pec relaxed, but even so freaky shredded; but his left pec fully contracted, GROTESQUE, DRY, ALL-FIBER, HUGE, INSANE. Any word that came up to his head couldn't really describe what he saw, but his cock could. Now it was fully erect, huge as fuck, almost 15 inches of a thick, meaty muscle now dripping precum non stop. He got a handful of that pre and started sliding it all over his flexed pec. He loved the feeling of his pre in the muscle, the smell, no oil felt that good: He sticked his thumb between the pecs, running the cleavage, oiling it, feeling the freaky hard fibers grating his own finger, but he went on squeezing it harder and harder. Then with his handfull, all five fingers rubbing his huge pec, the palm feeling the whole pec, cupping it. He let his index finger work slowly gently on his nipple, and his full body contracted in pleasure. What could drive him wild as fuck was the idea of someone slowly worshipping his nipple, with his tongue tip. He imagined that in his mind, and got to a higher level of muscle lust. He relaxed his contracted pec, got a huge breath, making his chest expand almost 5 inches wider, freaky, shredded as fuck even in that position, skin stretched, he locked his eyes into his own pecs through the mirror, clenched his teeth and hit the freakiest most muscular pose ever. "FUCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK THAT'S IT FUCKER!!!!!" His pecs exploded into two freaky balloons of shredded muscles. They no longer looked like muscles, but like a bunch of fibers, placed one on top of the other, freaky huge insertions everywhere: into his cleavage, into his collarbone, the insertions in his delts freakiest than ever, framed by his huge biceps around them. The view was freaky as fuck, relaxed and contracted them a couple of times, but not slowly, he just wanted to see their pecs explode once and again, and that's what he got: freaky ballons of muscle fibers popping out of his body. Then he looked at the huge pit that his lower pecs formed with his upper abs, making a deep cave made of muscle walls. His cock was harder and longer than ever, he contracted his groin and made his cock raise up up up, and reaching that fuckage cave. He helped his cock and inserted his head in the deep pit and crunched both his abs and his pecs harder, catching his cockhead hard between them. He started humping his own pecs, pushing hard up and grinding his cock with his lower pecs, feeling the fibers with his head, even hurting it because of the hardness of the fibers. But it doesn't mattered, what mattered was that he was in the "zone", he could only think of his muscles, in loving them. He started crunching and relaxing both lower pecs alternatively, slowly jacking his cockhead, leaking precum non stop. He crunched his upper pecs, making such a huge cut in his collarbone so freaky it seemed the pecs were about to pop out of his body. Fuck he loved watching himself being a fucking pec freak. He stopped humping and concentrated of jacking his cockhead. He flexed his lower pecs more and more, giving his pecs a huge jack off, enjoying both the jackoff, but above all the ability of being able of self jack off with his pecs. He felt his balls working hard to make all that cum flow up, the burn of his horniness from head to toe, making his cock get about to cum, but his burn concentrating on his pecs, the aim of his lust, not his cock or his orgasm, but his pecs. But now it was time to let it go. He hit a couple of last crunches, shredding them more than before, giving a huge squeeze in his cock head and making his cock cum like a hose. "YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH FUUUUCKKKKK". The first blast cum laid on his chin, the second blast laid on his left pec, and the rest of them flowing down his cock and his balls. Still horned as fuck, he got all his cock cum with his left hand and started rubbing all along his right pec, covering it and relaxing both of them. He slowly touched his nips with his cummy fingers, and the feeling of his own muscle cum in their hyper sensitive nips made his cock launch a huge last blast of cum right into the mirror. "Fuck, i can't wait to do this again after the workout".
  8. Hi guys, here’s the background story of Jeff. I warn you: there’s no much muscle, just at the end, but I think you would enjoy the whole chapter. BTW, sorry for making it so long!!! Here’s the link to the previous chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9150-jeffs-shredding-freakshow/ Hope you all like it!!! -------- He laid there, exhausted but satisfied, playing with Robert’s cum in his biceps, thinking about his life, and how he ended up being such a freak, as he heard Bob closing the door and walking away, still crying. ****** Jeff was born on May 13th, 1987, in the Mount Sinai Hospital of NYC. Son of Ahmad, an Iranian immigrant; and Sun, a beautiful (and quite rich) girl with Korean origins, he raised up in a nice and loving environment. His father, Ahmad, was a simple guy back in Teheran, who worked as a transport guy. Quite gifted physically, the man was also quite a handsome man, who ended up being such a hunk (mainly thanks to his work) and got an offer to move to the US and do some modeling. There she met Sun, an awesomely interesting and beautiful girl, part of the family who held the Samsung empire, who never was really interested in the family business, but more into clothes, travelling, and the easy life in general. They met in one of Ahmad’s modeling jobs, got interested in each other immediately, started meeting, fell in love (obviously with the opposition of Sun’s family), got married and finally she gave birth to Jin Firuz (but he was always called Jeff) on that day of May. Childhood Jeff, in his childhood, had always been very active, much into sports, but he somehow especially loved athletics and running, what always gave him an athletic but very skinny look, too skinny in fact, even though he ate like a bull. His parents never really got worried about that, because he always showed an excellent health. But, at the age of 14, with a height of 5’7, he just weighed 120lb, and had a really sick appearance. Although he had quite developed legs, for all that running when he was a child, the rest of his body was really thin, something that was often subject of jokes and mocks from his friends. At first he laughed at all that stuff (well, they’re just joking, and maybe thy’re just envious because they are overweighed and I’m not), but after some time, and especially when the rest of his friends got dates, girlfriends, and he didn’t, he started to get a bit obsessed with his appearance, his looks, but especially with being really sick, and having some kind of illness who gave him that appearance, and made people kind of reject him. He told his parents at the age of 16 but again, he wasn’t sick at all, on the contrary, all his medical revisions gave him an excellent status of health, everything was perfect, every level just where it should be, though his looks didn’t show that fact at all. But that didn’t comfort him at all. That obsession only got worse over the years. Teen years During his teen years, he turned into quite a handsome guy, that mix of Arabian and Korean facials gave him a really manly beautiful, but skinny face, although he had quite a squared jawline, maybe for eating so much, obsessed with getting a bit more fat and start to look more healthy. But as much as he ate, he still remained thin as an spaghetti, although his legs still were pretty developed. During those teen years, in the brief interludes of his depression, when he took the strength to try to meet any girl, they always asked him the, with a total lack of fineness, the same thing: “Hey are you ok? Have you been ill recently?”. All that had led him to become quite a lonely person, gave up on the possibility of being loved someday, and shut himself away from everyone. He had always admired his father, he had such a beautiful and proportioned physique (remember the fact that he came to the US for becoming a professional model), also admired his friends who were pretty big, and ended up developing a real attraction to big guys. At first he thought it was just because of his obsession for being thick himself, but later he discovered that it was a sexual attraction. So, as he wrongly though “If I had not enough with being a walking skeleton, I’m not ever going to be with such big guys, they’d want a big guy as well”. His truth At the age of 21, he had grown to 5’11 but he just weighted 130lbs, 10 lbs more. At this point, their parents, very worried about that situation and Jeff’s depression, decided to take him to get new tests to see what really happened to Jeff, if there were something wrong that the doctors hadn’t detected. After lots of visits to many specialists, they finally found one who offered to do a genetic test, and see if there was something unusual on this analysis. They agreed, but were really scared about finding out something really bad inside of him, but it was that or letting the depression get worse. After the first genetic analysis, he was called for some new tests, some running, a body scan, and some other stuff that Jeff was really scared of. After some weeks, they were called to meet the doctor and explain what they had discovered. And then they knew the strange truth. “Jeff, the first thing you have to know, and your parents, of course, is that you’re perfectly ok”, the doctor started. That comfort them quite a lot, but then he continued. “… but… there is something, let’s call it… strange with you”. Jeff’s face changed to horror. “Jeff, take it easy, I didn’t say that it was something WRONG, just something STRANGE, and as I have said at first, you’re perfectly ok. It’s just that your body works in a different way than the others. Let me ask you something: have you been a runner in your early years?”. Jeff got surprised, because he had never told him that to the doctor. “Yes, I have. I used to run when I was a child. But that was like ages ago”, Jeff replied. “Ok, and since then, I guess you’ve not been doing any special physical activity, right? I mean, just walking, am I right?” His mother intervened in the conversation: “Well, doctor, Jeff have been quite depressive the last 5 years, and he has not really done almost anything”. “Ok, this explain our findings. Let’s see if I can explain it in a way you can understand it”. The doctor tried to explain to Ahmad, Sun and Jeff that the latter had a genetic “disorder” that, somehow, didn’t allow his body to save more fat than the necessary. They didn’t understand a word. What was that supposed to mean? The doctor tried to explain it in more “street” word and finally managed to let them know that the result of his disorder is that his skin and muscles didn’t held any fat on them, but his internal organs did, that’s the reason for his perfect health but his kind of sick looks. “There is not any documented case of this disorder”, said the doctor “but, apparently, there’s nothing to worry about Jeff. Your health is excellent; your only ‘problem’ is that you won’t ever be a fat guy, hahhaha”. The doctor was laughing, but Jeff didn’t laught at all, in fact he got really angry and looked mad at the doctor. “Well, I’m pretty sure that’s something awesome for someone like you, doctor”, Jeff replied, given that the doctor was obviously obese, “but you have just killed me. So, are you saying that I’m always going to look like a skeleton?” “No no no, I haven’t said that, Jeff. You look skinny because you’re not a muscular guy. Your condition affects to your fat, even more, your external fat, but not to the rest of your body. In fact, remember what I’ve asked you before, if you were a runner. I asked you that because on the body scan we noticed that your lower body was a bit muscled, still with an extremely low fat rate, but well toned, we could even say muscular. I’m sure that, if you had been a gym guy you wouldn’t look so thin. In fact, there’s another strange point in your case…” The doctor continued explaining that Jeff should have lost all the muscular mass in his legs due to the lack of physical activity in the last years, but he hadn’t. They didn’t know if it was related to the other “disorder”, but somehow he had a good genetics. The doctor continued talking directly to Jeff: “Anyway, Jeff, it seems pretty obvious that you have really important self-esteem issues with your looks, but your ‘disorder’ doesn’t have to interfere with it. You should treat this with some psychologist, but I recommend to start doing some heavy sports, gym, weight lifting, this like that, to try to change your looks adding some muscle. Just try it, you don’t have anything to lose!”. First weeks After the shock of his “disorder” (what a horrible word for him) and after dealing with his psychologist, they decided that he would start training, but since he had such a big depression at the moment, it was more safe for him not to go to a place with guys in a average or built condition. So, their parents decided to install a gym in their flat, hire a personal trainer for Jeff and see how it went. After a couple of weeks, Jeff started training with Andy. Andy was specifically chosen by Ahmad, his father, since he was a former colleague in his modeling agency, and he had a similar problem than Jeff, he started as a really thin model, and after some time, he got a bit more hunky, but not much, he didn’t want that his trainer’s looks made Jeff more depressed. First days were quite terrible. Jeff still felt depressed, but Andy, was really a nice guy, and helped him a lot dealing with his “disorder”. “Come on Jeff, you don’t really know how lucky you are. Guys I’ve trained would kill to gain mass and not gain any fat. You don’t have to worry about it. All the muscle you build, it will be clean, so in fact I envy you a lot too”. “Well, take it for yourself, take it as a present”, Jeff said ironically. “Fuck, no one understand how terrible it is to be my age and look so fucking skinny? I just wished I were normal”. “Don’t ever say that again”, Andy shouted. “You’re a normal guy, you just have to train and we’ll see where it leads to, ok? Reluctantly, Jeff agreed, hardly trying to give it an opportunity. Jeff’s training started with a soft routine for two weeks and a high carbs diet. “Since you won’t save it, you can eat as much as you want, and let’s see how your body reacts”. In the first weeks, he got quite toned, lost his cramps in just one day, and was able to dedicate 2 hours, 4 days per week. He looked at himself every day in the mirror, trying to see any gain. Yes he felt a bit more hard, but still as skinny as he was. After one month, gains were already visible, he just gained 5lbs which of course was quite a lot for a starter, but since he could eat as much as he wanted, it was quite a good progress. He started feeling more confident with Andy, but he still weren’t satisfied about it. He fell down deeper into his depression and talked to Andy: “Andy, this is not working, let’s face it, I won’t change, I’m an error of nature and I just wish I wasn’t born”. Andy got really worried about that, because he saw a shred of a suicidal threat in his eyes. Then he remembered something and took Jeff to the living room. “Ok, I’m going to show you something”. Andy got some muscle magazines he had left in Jeff’s house and started looking into them. After that, he got three pictures and handled them to Jeff. “Ok, this guy is called Dorian Yates. He is a professional bodybuilder which, as you may see, it’s an awesome beast”. The picture was in off season look, bulking like a beast, about 300lbs or more. Then he handled another one to Jeff. “Ok, this is the same guy, but in different moments of his competitions. The first one is in off-season. As you may see, he is big, but he looks fat, doesn’t he?” “Sure, truth be told, looks quite fat, but he looks strong as hell!” “I agree, but what about the second picture? In this picture, he is competing the same year, just two months later, and weighing 50lbs less, just to look hotter, more defined, and so on. Now, Jeff, tell me, if you could choose, which one of these two looks would you like for yourself?”. “The second one, of course! He looks much better”. Andy laughed. “Yeah, that’s a matter of tastes BUT, to get to this status, this guy had to run more than two hours every day, have a completely clean diet, for two months”. Jeff opened his eyes in awe. “Fuck, that’s even worse than training”, he replied. “Of course it is, everybody hates cardio, but we all need it to stay in a good shape. Well, this guy, Yates, had a bodyfat percentage of a 7% in this picture, which is a really really low one”. Then he took the third picture and showed it to Jeff and asked: “What do you think of this one?” Jeff opened his eyes and mouth, shocked. “Fuck, this guy looks incredible! Who is he??”. The picture was of Andreas Munzer, in his most famous picture, his freaky most muscular picture where he was shredded all the way up. Andy smiled. “Ok, now tell me why do you think he looks better than the last one I showed you”, asked. “Well, his looks are quite hot, don’t you think? I mean, look at him, he looks strong, he’s just…” “… he’s just muscle, right?”, Andy finished the sentence. Jeff looked up at Andy and then he started realizing what he was trying to teach him. “Yes, he’s looking like he’s just muscle”. “… and not fat at all, right?”, Andy went on Jeff’s mind was changing. “Yes…”, he said stumbling. “Well, Jeff. This guy was Andreas Munzer. He was considered the most shredded bodybuilder ever. In this picture, he was just 4% bodyfat. He died some time later due to health problems derived from his obsession to remove all his fat from his body”. Jeff got a scary look. “Well, if this guy would have had your “disorder”, as you call it, he would still be alive”. “Really? Why so?”, Jeff asked “You know, when you dry out for competition, you have a strict diet, that removes ALL his fat, both his inner and his outer fat. I you lose too many inner fat, you just die. BUT, if he hadn’t needed to remove his external fat, he wouldn’t have needed to remove his internal one, and he would still be alive”. Jeff started to process all that information. “And, Jeff, to make it really clear to you”, Andy continued, “you have ZERO external body fat. You don’t have to worry about that. Which means that, if you really wish, you can get like this guy, without risking your life AT ALL”. Andy made a pause “Now, I’ll ask you: do you still think you’re an unlucky guy?” Jeff got quiet for a moment, really scared at the idea of someone dying because of trying to get in such a dry condition but, at the same time, mesmerized at that picture of Munzer. Andy was looking at him carefully, trying to find out what he was thinking. Jeff suddenly lost a lot of his self-hate for his condition, knowing that he could get like this, and regretting for having had such a deep depression, for having given his parents such bad years of regretting, tests, psychologists, and so on. He smiled, raise his eyes up to Andy and self-confidently said: “No, in fact I should be grateful for it”. Andy was really happy. He always loved to help guys in trouble with his self looks. Jeff went on talking and asked “Andy, are you serious when you say that I can get like this guy?” referring to Munzer’s picture. “Jeff, I can’t ensure you that so soon”, he laughed, “BUT you have the genetics, look at your father, he got hunky with very little effort and you, in just one month, gaining 5lbs is a really good progress, so I could say that, if you really wish it, you can get as muscular as you want!!! Give me another month, and let’s talk by then, ok?” Jeff smiled liked he had never done in his whole life and replied “Deal!” 22nd birthday The next month was really intense. Since he wasn’t working (why the need, his mother was rich and he didn’t need it), he dedicated 3 hours per day with Andy. Andy couldn’t believe it, the guy was able to workout as much as he wanted. But it was such a normal thing: Jeff ate 6 times per day, mainly based on carbs, but with lots of proteins too, he had the fuel to workout, and an unusual ability to not getting tired. Every exercise hurted him like hell, but after just one minute he was fresh again, and able to repeat. Every day he was looking bigger, but yet defined. They concentrated on his upper body, since the lower one was in a better condition, and in just ONE MONTH! Jeff got completely proportioned. On the morning of May 13th, 2009, on his 22nd birthday, Andy weighed Jeff and he was in 160lbs. “In just 6 weeks you’ve gained 35lbs. NO ONE that I know has ever done this. Look at you in the mirror”. Jeff looked at himself, still thin, with a definitely healthy look, he was a thin ripped and handsome guy, and the last shred of his depression just disappeared in this moment. “Happy birthday Jeff, now you’re a normal guy”, Andy told him with a huge smile and gave a big hug to his friend. Summer of 2009: The change The summer of 2009 was just AMAZING, one of the greatest memories of Jeff. He finally got out of home, started walking the streets of NYC, he even went to have some walks with Andy by Central Park, who had become his only friend. He started noticing how girls looked at him. He didn’t like them, but FUCK, it was incredible that he wasn’t invisible to them. He even thought that some guys were looking at him too, but he didn’t kept that thought much time, he still felt that no guys would ever get interested in him. But anyway he loved the feeling of not being the sick guy. During the summer, he went on training like hell. On August, Andy and Jeff stopped his training and both of them took some holidays. By then, Jeff had reached 180bs and got a really hunky looks. Andy went to Europe with his wife, and Jeff went to the Hamptons with his parents, and there he signed into a nearby gym, something that just 4 months ago, he would have thought it was impossible. His newly rising confidence made him go everyday and spend there most of the day, working out like hell and even eating during the workout. Guys in the gym started to say hello to him, though he always seemed like a serious guy, focused on the training and nothing more. Anyway he love that new social life. There he met Jimmy, a quite hunky guy who Jeff especially loved because he was the one with the best developed legs in the gym. Apart from that, both had the same proportions and complexion, but Jeff looked (and in fact he was) extremely ripped, and Jimmy wasn’t. “You’re suck a fucker Jeff”, Jimmy used to joke with Jeff, “how the hell can you stay so shredded and keep pumping like there was nothing else in the world?”. “Well, I guess I run a lot at the beach, Jeff laughed. Both guys got quite confident and started training together, getting quite close friends. One day, at the gym, after the long heavy usual workout, both of them weighed. Jimmy was at 190 and Jeff 185. “I won, so you pay the beers”, Jimmy joked to Jeff, which replied: “Oh no no no, no way, you may weigh a bit more, but you don’t look this good”, Jeff raised his arm and flexed the bicep and it just popped up in front of Jimmy. Jimmy opened his eyes wide and stared at that thin guy with such a PEAKY SHREDDED biceps in his arm. “Wow”, he stuttered as he swallowed some saliva, really amazed at Jeff’s look. “Man, that must be pretty hard”, he said as he gave him a nice slap in the peaky muscle. The feeling of that guy’s hand in his muscle, even though it wasn’t nice at all, switched something on inside of Jeff’s head. He suddenly got his heartbeat increased, his breath accelerated and, still not knowing how, he got a serious look, he raised the other arm and hit a double biceps pose. Those 18’’ arms, obviously not huge, but incredibly defined looked incredible. The definition of the arm was just completely unusual for a guy who was training as if it were off-season. His forearms looked veiny all over, bulging in every part of it. His biceps were completely cut out from his triceps, there was a slight separation on his biceps head and the fibers in the hanging triceps were pretty visible. Jimmy got hard at that pose of his buddy, and started laughing nervously: “Come on buddy, don’t you want me to touch them?... right?” Jeff kept silent, no words coming out of his mouth, all he did was crunch them harder, making them get even more defined, the peaks getting a bit higher, the insertion in the delts freaky visible, tendons everywhere. His friend Jimmy slowly got serious too and placed both hands in his friend’s biceps, saying a very low “Fuck...”, and slowly running the hands all over Jeff’s biceps. Jeff had no idea of what was going on in his mind, but he felt like he was another person. A feeling of self-pride for having turned, in just 5 months, from a skinny shy guy, to a hunky man whose friend was worshipping his biceps, there in a gym, got him to a level of self-esteem that overpassed the levels of depression he had in his teen years. He looked at Jimmy’s eyes, mesmerized with his muscles, even though he was also a pretty bulky guy, and then he heard him say: “… I was dying to do this, you’ve got the most awesome body I’ve ever seen”. What the fuck??? Was he serious??? Him, Jeff, had the most awesome body that Jimmy had ever seen? That got him hard as fuck, his cock started growing in his pants, forming a huge bulge on them, which Jimmy quickly noticed and got on his knees, lowering Jeff’s shorts and started sucking on his cock, yet a bit soft, but was getting thicker and longer with each suck. Jeff was high, high for the situation, fucking proud of making a guy like Jimmy suck him off. He let his mind go, kept flexing his biceps, that were hurting as hell, feeling them cramping, burning, but he didn’t matter that, all he wanted in that very moment was to become a beast, a freak, a monster. He kept flexing harder and harder and then he looked down to Jimmy, who was still sucking him off. Jeff lowered his arms, got Jimmy’s head between his hands, separated from his cock, looked into his eyes and without saying a word turned his head so he could see his right leg, which he was already extending. In a sudden, he shook it and crunched it hard, as if it were something he had been doing his whole life. His right quad got freaky ripped in Jimmy’s face. Even though Jimmy had bigger legs, they were really fat, all he could get from a crunch was some bulges on them, but this guy, those weren’t legs, but freaks of nature. Even considering that they weren’t as thick as Jimmy’s, those legs looked as if they were carved out of stone. Cut from the groin to the knee, the quads bulged pretty thick but so freaky cut it was hard to keep the eyes off from them. Jeff still had Jimmy’s head in his hands, and so he made him reach his quad and with a single word he changed the whole experience: “LICK”. Jimmy got crazy. He started running his tongue all over the freaky cuts, tasting his skin, squeezing them with his hands, licking like a dog, moaning with every lick. Jeff crunched it harder, moved it so he could lick every part of it. Jimmy started licking his inner thigh, which was even more ripped than the front part, showing some freaky veins. He run those veins with his tongue up to his groin, eating Jeff’s balls, sucking his cock again. But Jeff took him from his hair again, raised his t-shirt and showed him his washboard abs, forcing him to go up and lick his stomach. Jimmy was in such a frenzy licking job, but Jeff was in a higher level, he was in a trance, flexing his abs so that Jimmy would enjoy them more, but then he wanted more, and so he extended his arm making his triceps contract. Jimmy wasn’t even aware of that movement, and Jeff didn’t care, he wasn’t doing it for Jimmy, he was doing it for himself. He felt the explosion of strength in the tricep, the quads that were still burning from the intense crunch and his abs that Jimmy was licking as if the world were going to end. And then he came. With a huge and load shout, he cum all over Jimmy’s tank top, “OH FUUUUUUCK YESSSSSSSS”. Jeff got freaky aroused in the moment he felt the warm cream, and shot a huge load right onto the floor with a loud moan, while his mouth was still stuck to Jeff’s stomach. They stopped, exhausted. Jimmy was a bit embarrassed, he had never done something like this. But Jeff, once his real mind came back, was absolutely shocked, but not in a bad way. He just felt amazed, surprised, trying to analyze what his mind was experiencing with this worship. He just put his shorts on again, still silent, trying to process everything, he got his stuff and walked away, without even saying goodbye to Jimmy. He was pretty sure this experience was going to change his whole life. ****** And so he did. By then, he didn’t know that was a muscle worship (a really bad one, but his first one), and now, back at his room, still playing with Robert’s cum, recalling those early years and that first worship he experienced, with just 195lbs, he felt happy again for having met that guy. If that hadn’t happened, he hadn’t got obsessed with his growth and hadn’t become the freak he is now. He looked at the clock. 11:58 pm. He got up and went to the bathroom, to get the scale and weigh. He placed his feet and looked at the result: 385lbs. He finally surpassed his goal, that one he put himself on almost 7 years ago. The clock buzzed: It was 0:00 of May 13th, 2016. “Happy birthday, Jeff. Now you’re the real monster you always really wanted to be” ---- Next chapter: Muscle Frenzy: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9274-jeff-muscle-frenzy/
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